I place my hand beside one of the prints. “Big.”
Vane curses. “Not dogs. Wolves.”
“Wolves as in?—”
“Werewolves,” Vane confirms.
An owl hoots, causing me to flinch. Wolves haven’t set foot in Corona for hundreds of years, but their hatred for vampires is no secret. Our kind’s history is fraught with betrayal and bloodshed, stemming from the time when rogue vampires fled to Lua,leaving destruction in their wake. Vyvyan’s refusal to call them back, branding them traitors and deserters, deepened the rift.
Still, a werewolf attack is not a laughing matter. The other vampires may be at risk. “Who else knew you were meeting me here?” I ask, folding my arms.
Vane’s silence speaks volumes.
“Who?” I press, watching him wince.
“No one,” he insists, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Vane’s gaze grows distant before he nods. “Well, we sent word to the Council that we were on our way, but no one answered.”
I open my mouth to say more, but Vyvyan stirs more insistently in Vane’s arms. We need to get her inside where it is safe.
“I think she’s going to be okay,” I say, bowing my head.
Vane nods, his gaze holding mine. “Thank you.”
The heat that pulsed between us earlier returns, a tangible thing in the cool night air. I look away. Vane lied to me. He manipulated me into thinking he cared about me. Vane is the reason Misty is angry with me. Whatever I feel when I am around him is left over from before. He’s grateful I helped Vyvyan, nothing more.
“If you were a minute later, Desiree,” Vane continues, “I’m afraid of what might’ve happened. If the Balam came back, or?—”
“We can’t stay here,” I interject, turning on my heel.
“But Vyvyan?—”
“Is healing.” I’ve never known Vyvyan to have a lover. I’m uncertain if she and Vane were ever together. He never shared intimate details about his past. Still, I hate seeing them together. “Until she stands and speaks coherent sentences on her own,we’re not out of the woods. She’ll need monitoring for any side effects, though.”
“You were amazing tonight,” Vane says, a shy smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Vyvyan owes you her life.”
“Let’s hope she sees it that way when she wakes up.” Vyvyan is going to kill me. I don’t feel much of a pull toward her. That would change if she gave me her blood in return, but when she wakes up, she’ll have a front-row seat to my life that resembles a melodrama.
“Let’s go home,” I say.
Vane adjusts Vyvyan in his arms. We move swiftly through the darkened park, neither of us speaking. As we reach the entrance to Little Death, I gather myself, and face Vane one last time. I wait for him to say something—anything. The silence becomes uncomfortable.
“Keep an eye on her, and I’ll check on you both tomorrow,” I tell him in a rush, then hurry down the stone steps into the club before Vane can respond.
As I lock myself in my coffin, I shut my eyes, and offer a silent prayer to whatever gods are listening. Vyvyan is going to be okay. She has to be. Because if she’s not, I won’t be either. The weight of what I’ve done—the blood bond I’ve created, linking myself to her, the lines I’ve crossed—settles over me like a shroud. I may never truly be free of tonight’s consequences.
“Leigh!”
I tear through Rowan Palace, my shout echoing off the walls. Darkness engulfs me, thick and oppressive, broken only by the occasional flicker of the flames I’ve conjured to light my way. The silence is deafening compared to the palace’s usual bustle. My heart booms in my ears—each beat a reminder of the precious seconds ticking by. She must be here.
The scent of burning plastic and chemicals drifts in through an open window, serving as a grim reminder of the pandemonium outside. Adrenaline surges through my veins, causing my vision to blur. I blink rapidly to clear it. Leigh hasn’t been answering my calls. Was the blackout a distraction to get to her? Fear threatens to crush me.
“Leigh!” I holler again. The silence that follows is like a closed book.
I check my phone for the hundredth time. The screen’s harsh glow reveals three missed calls from Soter, two messages from Jaxson, and one voicemail from Isolde. The city I’ve sworn to protect is falling apart, and I can’t stop it. I think of my mom at the hospital, of Desiree in the Nest—are they safe? My dad’s voice echoes in my head, disapproving and cold:“If I were in your position, I would never have allowed this to happen.”
