“This is a memory,” Catarina says, noting the moon in the silver. “From several hours ago. I sense my raven is already on his way home to me.”
The raven soars around Dhegal prison, but there is no sign of Eloise there. Then it circles Blackspire Palace. I tense, praying for a clue to her location. Praying that she’s okay.
My prayers are answered. Through the window in Blackspire’s Great Hall, I see her, chained by the throat and hunched at Adril’s feet. Curse you Adril. Curse all your gods. She doesn’t look conscious, but she’s alive.
Karyl gasps. “Is that her?”
“Yes.” I seethe.
“Damien…”
“She’s alive. I can feel her still.” I rub my chest.
“Then you must go to her, my son. You must bring her back,” Mother says.
I rise. “I will go. Now.”
“Alone?” Karyl stands. “Maybe I can help.”
“It’s safer for me to go alone. Maybe, if we had another umbrae, we’d stand a chance. But as is, I must be surgical about my extraction.” I say honestly.
“Then you best take this,” Mother says. She returns to the door, to the bundle she’d carried in with her. From within the nest of burlap, she draws out a massive silver blade that winks in the candlelight. My blade. The one crafted of the finest Stygian steel and left on the battlefield when I was taken from this world.
Dawnbreaker.
33
The Visitor
ELOISE
The night I turned vampire, I was introduced to a world where my body healed more quickly than I could imagine, where I could run as fast as Damien, break a man’s bones with my bare hands, jump so high that a human might believe I could fly. It didn’t take me long to grow comfortable with those powers, even if they did come with a price—my connection to my anchor wasn’t the same. I couldn’t hear Phantom when the fox spoke to me, even when I had him in my arms. Something about my vampirism had made the link between us grow staticky, disconnected.
Now that I hang bleeding in the archway, as physically weak as when I was human, thanks to the poison Adril has fed me and lacking the connection to my ancestors that brought me magical power, I miss it all. I miss the strength being a vampire blessed me with. I miss the connection I had with the spirit world as a human. I miss my life before this unending pain. At Harcourt, in Night Haven, even here with Damien, every day I had my freedom was a good day.
Only two things hold me together. First, I am still me. I am still the woman who left Tony, even when he threatened my life. I am still the woman who marched into Night Haven and took on a vampire queen for my mate. I am still the woman who refuses to die out of pure spite. I did all those things without any power but my own will, and I can use that now.
Second, Damien will come for me, and when he does… Oh, the wrath he will unleash. I look forward to the sound of heads rolling, the spray of blood across white walls, the screams. It’s this I think about as the cane whistles and cuts across the center of my back, then my butt, then the backs of my thighs. I can no longer react to the pain. I’m too weak. Too tired.
Blood oozes down my thighs and pools at my feet.
“Are you ready to swear your fealty to me now, pet?” Adril asks from behind me.
He’s asked dozens of times, maybe hundreds of times, and my answer is always silence. This time, I have no trouble playing dead. I’m not even sure I’m fully conscious. I can’t lift my head.
The bloody cane clatters to the floor. “Fine. Sleep. Heal. We’ll start again first thing tomorrow.”
I hear his boots clomp out of the room. And then I’m alone.
Everything is pain. I weep until I’m out of tears, despair my only accompaniment. Adril is going to rest, and then he’s going to wake up and whip me again. He’ll whip me until I have no skin. Will it be enough to kill me? I don’t know. Where is Damien? Why doesn’t he rescue me?
For a split second, I have the unsettling realization that Damien would already be here if he were alive. Is it possible the hunters found him as well? If he is dead or imprisoned, it explains why he hasn’t acted. Maybe no one is coming for me. I could be Adril’s prisoner forever.
My breath catches at the thought. But I know in my heart Damien is alive. I would feel it if he died. Feel it like losing a limb. No. He is coming. I only need to…endure.
In time, I go numb to the pain, hang my head, and will myself to sleep. It’s hard with my weight hanging off my wrists, my arms pulling at my shoulder sockets, my joints aching, my blood still running. I drift in and out of sleep, my dreams rushing to Damien again and again.
I wake to the scent of tobacco smoke. It fills my nose, and I blink my eyes open. I haven’t smelled that scent since Earth, since I was a child. It reminds me of my father’s pipe. He didn’t smoke it often, but when he did, it smelled just like that.
