Volencia’s legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor, her aristocratic features slack with approaching death. Her amber eyes fixed on Nadi’s face, and for a moment there was something that might have been respect there. “Raziel…chose well.”
“Yes.” Nadi watched the light fade from those inhuman eyes with deep satisfaction. “He did.”
Volencia Nostrom—matriarch of one of the most powerful vampire families in Runne, orchestrator of countless deaths, architect of fae suffering—died on the antique carpet of her own study.
Nadi stood over her for a long moment, feeling the warm glow of completion spreading through her chest. This was what justice felt like. This was what eight decades of planning and sacrifice had been building toward. The woman who had ordered her family’s death was finally, permanently silenced.
Taking the iron poker from the fireplace, she stuck it through the woman’s skull. Vampires were notoriously hard to kill and keep dead. And even though the knife was silver, she wanted to make absolutely certain the bitch stayed down.
The sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor finally snapped her back to reality. She quickly cleaned the blade and returned it to the pendant, then began moving toward the study’s secondary exit. She needed to find Raziel, to share this moment with him, to figure out what they were going to do now that?—
The door burst open, revealing three vampires in dark clothing. They moved with inhuman speed and coordination, spreading out to surround her before she could fully process their presence.
“The shapeshifter,” one of them said. “Grab her.”
Nadi shifted into Ivan’s form, hoping the added mass and strength would give her an advantage, but she was outnumbered. One of them hit her hard in the back of the head, and she went down to her knees. She cried out, fighting as hard as she could, but soon it was three versus one, and she was restrained.
Someone pressed a cloth over her nose and mouth—something that smelled sweet and cloying and made her thoughts swim like thick honey.
Through the haze of whatever drug they were using, she saw them drag another figure into the room. Tall, broad-shouldered, with long black hair and familiar crimson eyes that were glazed with the same chemical confusion affecting her.
Raziel. They had Raziel too.
She tried to call out to him, to fight harder against her captors, but the drug was pulling her down into darkness. The last thing she saw before consciousness fled was his face turning toward hers, recognition and something like desperation flickering in his eyes before they both succumbed to oblivion.
After that there was nothing but darkness, and the distant sound of someone laughing with cold satisfaction.
But even as consciousness faded, Nadi held onto one bright, perfect truth—Volencia Nostrom was dead, and she had been the one to kill her.
Whatever came next, that victory could never be taken away.
Even if their souls would follow Volencia’s into the void before long.
TWENTY-THREE
Nadi didn’t know where she was being taken. A bag had been put over her head. No one was speaking to her. She had no clue which end was up. No one was hurting her either—so at least there was that.
It was clear who was to blame for this. Mael and Lana. She tried to piece everything together in her head. It had all happened so quickly. They had hired the fae to crash her own wedding. Butwhy? To what end? It was obvious their goal was to remake the politics of Runne in the name of some new world order, but?—
Oh.
Fuck.
The men storming into the room hadn’t been after her, had they?
They had been afterVolencia.
She started to laugh underneath the hood. And she laughed hard. The whole thing had been a setup to murder their mother to get her out of the way. And Nadi had gone and done their job for them.
And they had Raziel. But he had been alive, last she’d seen. Why? What purpose did he serve?
Either way, she was alive. And that meant she might have a chance at escape. She had a chance to get out of this alive, somehow. But getting outwithRaziel? That would be much harder, if not impossible.
Part of her should be fine with that. Willing to sayFuck it, good, let the bastards sort their own shit out.But the other part of her wasn’t willing to let him go. Especially not now, after realizing she had foolishly…
Did she evenwantto escape with him anymore? Mael’s offer was still on the table. And it was tempting. Raziel was now very clearly the losing side. Mael and Lana had won. They had the fae working with them, and they had played everyone—including her and Raziel—like chumps. It would be suicidal to side with Raziel.
But…
