He lets out a loud scoff. Behind him, his soldiers adjust their stances, bouncing nervously from foot to foot. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Step. Aside.” I put my hands on my swords. “For your own sake, Rirth. Please.” My eyes implore my friend.
He doesn’t budge.
I take a step forward. “I know you still blame me for Culiar’s death. If a fight with me will squash that, then so be it.” I draw my swords with a rasp of steel.
“You made me this way, Sephania. Don’t forget. If you’re a bloody-lover then you’re no friend to humanity. You can’t have it both ways.” He steps forward, and suddenly we’re only a single lunge from each other. “You dug this grave, now lie in it!”
Rirth charges.
“Sephania!” Skartovius calls. His voice is racked with more menace than I’ve ever heard—a guttural call excavated, screaming from the center of the earth itself.
My blades crash and spark against Rirth’s—
Before a wall of shadows forms between us and pushes us like a great torrential windstorm.
I skid back on my heels.
“W-What the fuck?” says one of the soldiers behind Rirth.
Skar glides up to us once the inky wall is gone. Rirth makes to move toward me again, lips parting—
Freezing when he sees who Skar is holding.
Our eyes fall on Palacia.
Fuck. Why didn’t I lead with that?For the second time, I recall Palacia’s words when I first saw her in the North Mines.“I loved them, you know? Rirth, Culiar, Imis, Helget—all of them.”I remember the look of pain and sadness when Rirth lost Palacia, drowning himself in his cups. He loved her, too. Now he’s seeing her for the first time in ages.
Rirth’s face pales, turning the same shade as Skar’s. His swords slowly lower, and he simply looks confounded.
“You would kill her as well, Rirth?” I demand. “Does your bloodlust have no limits, to kill a friend?”
Rirth blinks. “Bloodlust? Ironic coming from your lot.” He doesn’t raise his swords though.
I have to hope she’s small enough; hidden in Skar’s chest deeply enough; the moonlight is silhouetting her enough. All so he doesn’t see the paleness of her face. Because then he certainlywouldkill her, I fear.
With a sigh, Rirth steps aside. “I won’t kill Palacia. You’re lucky, Sephania, though I won’t ask how she managed to get in your vampire’s arms.” He turns around. “Men, let them pass. We have a regiment to meet and places to be.”
“But, Silverknight,” one of them whines, “he’s abloodsucker.”
“I know what he is, dammit. We’ll find him again someday and he won’t get so lucky.”
Skar and I are already passing them, hurrying by as they argue. I suck in a sharp breath when we’re finally through, nearing the gate up to Olhav.
I managed to make Rirth doubt himself just long enough for us to slip by. He could be regretting it even now. I caused him to question himself . . . but, I realize as we begin to ascend the mountain pass, he also made me questionmyself.Question my loyalties.
Is Rirth right about me?I wonder.Does a woman like me, who has fallen for vampiric lovers, lose any claim to humanity by doing such a thing? Have I truly abandoned by own kind?
Chapter 38
Sephania
Skar and I walk sullenly the rest of the way to Manor Marquin. My thoughts run amok, plaguing me, casting doubts to everything I’ve done. I don’t know what’s making Skar as sour as I am, but I have no doubt I’ll soon find out.
By the time we arrive, I’m exhausted. I’m ready to take Antones’ advice and give my weary mind a rest. I’ll sleep for three days straight if anyone will let me.
As we near the front gates, Skar stops me by clearing his throat. He says nothing and I turn, inspecting his handsome face, which is lined with barely veiled anger.
