Drink! Hurry!Titus is our only hope of surviving. He needs his fire!His gaze shifts to the tunnel, where Sofia stands, too scared to enter, her eyes fixed on us.Shit!
Instead of dropping my wrist, he kisses it. He was born a lover, forced to be a fighter. Sharp fangs cut me. I gasp with pleasure, but Hector and Sable think I’m still awestruck.
Sofia watches as Titus swallows gulp after gulp, fueling his fire. Why isn’t she saying anything? Her pretty face, which seduced Galen, turns apologetic. All the jewels on her neck look more like weights.
Ba-dum!Titus pulls another mouthful.Ba-dum!He gulps it down.Ba-dum!He’s about to stop, more worried about my current state. I press my wrist deeper into his fangs. Another swallow, he licks the wound, stopping the bleeding before the others see. He kisses my fingertips, then lowers my hand.
“I’ve never seen anything so stunning,” Sable coos.
Titus looks me dead in the eyes and whispers, “Neither have I.”
I’m scared to peel my eyes off him. “I love you,” I declare, then I look ahead. Grey-blue light fills the large space. Now that I’m inside, I see four more entrances, all caved in.
Rubble and debris are scattered on the floor. But like the tunnel we used, this room withstood the collapse. Three dozen men could easily occupy the space. This must have been a safe shelter if the castle was invaded. They planned to run down here, regroup, or flee.
There in the corner is the source of the heartbeat. A grey-blue shield of magic, with glowing veins thumping with life. Torin’s sacrifice, his death magic he forced into a cage over, “The Vitalis,” I murmur in awe.
I don’t know what I expected. Something small, held in your hand like a normal book. It’s not small. It’s large, giving the user enough space to draw intricate details, making runes hard to duplicate.
The pages are an odd shade of metallic, like gold and platinum threads were woven or melted together so tightly thatthey became smooth, like a fingerprint, still flexible to push a pen against. The front and back covers of the book are pulled back, exposing the inner pages—the guts and heart.
Deep in my chest, I know the book is in agony. With each beat of Torin’s death cage, the pages flap, but there in the center, the movement stills, pinned down.
The most magnificent sword I have ever laid eyes on skewers it like a piece of meat.
To cement everything Everett and Elderan told me, the skeleton lying on the floor is proof. It’s Torin’s bones. Hector spots it as I do. Sable steps closer, bends down and grabs a bone. Chin held high, she looks at the cage of death, pulls her elbow back and tosses the bone at it. As soon as the bone comes into contact with the cage, it disintegrates. “Everyone coos over the birth of life, but there is nothing like the awe struck silence death can produce. It’s magnificent,” sable mumbles to herself. “It’s what I want. Silence.”
If silence is what you seek, why do you conceive such resounding chaos, Sable?
Titus begins to raise his hands, trying to slide the mage cuffs off. Sofia strides forward, desperately shaking her head. Pleading for us to wait. Her movements cause Hector and Sable to spin around.
“Don’t let them touch, Sofia!” Sable scorns. Her long hair flows with the freedom I long for.
“I’m separating them.” Sofia dips her chin, grabs my hand, and tugs me away.
Sable rolls her eyes, then looks at Hector. “Melt it.” She runs her fingers down his back.
Ignoring her smirk, I examine the blade; its intricate design suggests a master smith. Set within the pommel is a glowing gem not of this land. It appears to be a source of magic, transforming into rainbows of color that captivate us all.
The grip shines, as if a star’s inner light, twisted and melted into a cable pattern, powered it. Etchings cover the blade that suggest a language, a narrative, or both.
“It’s happening,” Sable gloats as she looks at the book. The first page has a rune, but it’s faint, as if the ink wept from the pain of the sword stabbing it. “I’m going to start with Solaria. The home you loved.”
Hector’s hands raise; his magic slithers out, hissing like sand, seeping through the beating death cage. His body reacts as the magic encircles the sword, but nothing results. His neck muscles throb as he makes another attempt.
The sword does not bend or melt under his touch.
“Sable!” he shouts. “Come. Torin’s magic must be blocking mine.”
Sable hurries to his side. “We don’t need to save the pages. I’m telling you, new pages will regenerate?—”
“I told you, I do not have time to learn how to create new runes! I wantthoserunes!” Hector jabs a finger at the book. “That is why I did not let you kill your twin. I need her to heal the pages! Do you understand?” Sable tries to nod as her face flushes in shame.
A wave of stillness freezes my frantic heart.That’show I fit in.
“You want the runes on your body to work,” I surmise. Everett didn’t place me in Titus’s life because I was his mate. Being mated is our biggest foe in my brother’s eyes. It’s a distraction.
Everett saw a way to slay this problem—to keep Titus focused.
