“Slut.” I spun around to find Ivy passing me, her words dripping with venom.
“Do you have a problem with me?” I confronted her.
“I noticed your friend lurking around the other day,” she hissed. “I know she’s been following me.”
“Ivy, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do, and it’s suspicious.”
Connor reappeared, breaking the charged atmosphere. “I forgot my guitar,” he said, grabbing it from where it lay against the wall beside me. “What are you guys talking about?” he inquired, looking between us.
“Nothing,” Ivy replied smoothly. “See you later,” she added, walking past me toward the stage. She turned back to Connor. “I thought we agreed this was going to be aclosedrehearsal,” she remarked, a hint of reproach in her tone. I noticed Connor’s cheeks flush slightly in response.
Turning to me, Connor kissed my cheek, “You okay?”
“Ivy is kind of a bitch.”
“Yeah, she is, but you get used to it.”
“Do you want to head back to your place for a bit and hang out?” My tone carried a hint of flirtation as I touched his arm.
“I’d love to, but we have to rehearse until the show, since the club has hired a new sound engineer. Rumor has it that Jet Phoenix is in town, and I’m hoping he’ll be here tonight,” Connor replied with a mix of excitement and regret. “But you’ll be back tonight for the show?” he asked, his hand finding a place on my waist.
“Yes, Vail and I will be here.”
THIRTY-SIX
November 5, 1891
For a fleeting moment, my life felt peaceful. Now, each morning, I awoke with a whirlwind of unanswered questions swirling in my mind. I had to learn more about Draven, yet the thought of confronting him again was unbearable. I craved space and time to sort through my thoughts and reach my own conclusions. The locked room behind the tapestry at the end of the hall lingered in my mind; perhaps it held the answers I desperately sought.
Quiet as a mouse, I approached the door, fully aware that it was locked. Nevertheless, I resolved to attempt opening it. I could ask Imalda for a key, but I was not ready to explain my motives. Extracting a hairpin from my coiffure, I meticulously straightened it to the best of my ability. Satisfied with its makeshift form, I inserted it into the keyhole and applied gentle pressure, twisting and maneuvering it with careful precision.
After what felt like an eternity of delicate wiggling, I was astonished when I heard the faint click of the lock disengaging. A surge of pride swelled within me as I realized I had successfully picked the lock. Without hesitation, I pushed open the door.
I froze at the sight before me. I saw an ancient nursery, untouched by the passage of time. Dust danced in the soft rays of sunlight that filtered through the aged curtains, casting shadows upon the worn wooden floorboards.
A faded rocking horse stood in one corner, its paint chipped and weathered, while a cobweb-laden cradle lay silent and still. Toys adorned the shelves, their colours muted and faded with time. The room appeared as if it had been preserved for over a century, every object bearing the patina of age and neglect. I stepped farther into the room, my footsteps echoing in the hushed stillness of the nursery.
A sense of melancholy washed over me, and a lump formed in my throat as I stood in the nursery. The weight of questions pressed down on me. Who did this room belong to? Draven was a Blood Hunter, did this room belong to him? How old was he? What other lies was he hiding from me? I had to leave. I could not stay in this house any longer.
I fled the room, not bothering to close the door behind me. I wanted to leave and to never return. Rage simmered within me as I returned to my chambers. I looked around and a sudden realization struck me: I had nothing, no possessions to call my own. Nausea churned in my stomach as I shed my garments with trembling hands. Who did these dresses once belong to?
A wave of dizziness hit me as I approached the tub, filling it with scalding water. I craved a fresh start, longing to wash away the weight of everything I’d been carrying. I scrubbed my skin until it felt raw and lathered my hair thoroughly.
Once I was clean, I contemplated my next move. I would dress and head to Vail’s house for help, but a surge of shame gripped me. How could I face my dear friend with the fact that I had married the same monster who killed both ofour fathers and my mother? I felt naïve and foolish, the sting of my choices heavy on my heart.
No more lies and deception,I thought.
With trembling hands, I gazed down at the wedding ring adorning my finger—a symbol of a love built on falsehoods and hidden truths. I tore the ring from my finger and flung it across the room, the sharp clang of metal echoing in the chamber. In that moment, I despised Draven with every fibre of my being. His betrayal burned within me. How could he have kept such dark secrets from me? Why did I ignore the signs and marry him? I lay in the bath and closed my eyes, wishing to disappear.
Once the water turned cold, I wrapped a silky robe around my shivering body, my wet hair dripping down my back. I stepped out of the room only to be engulfed by darkness.
A scream escaped my lips as a fabric bag was thrown over my head. Before I could react, strong hands shoved me forcefully, sending me sprawling to the floor with a painful thud. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs, leaving me gasping for air as panic surged through my veins.
I struggled as my arms and legs were being tied together by a coarse rope. I screamed again loudly.
“Quick, Jeffrey, silence her. Her screaming is going to wake him up,” a familiar voice ordered.
