“Is it because of the Twinflame bond?” I asked.
“No, you weren’t bonded yet,” he reasoned. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
Dan rubbed his temples, muttering about how Alaric couldn’t have had time to dismantle such layered protections of such an advanced Bloodwright. But the words barely registered. My thoughts spun in tight, frantic circles.
What if it wasn’t Alaric at all? What if it wasme? What if I was the reason he could so easily get inside the room? I’d been able to slip past his wards this afternoon in the library—who’s to say he hadn’t done the same before now, being far more experienced than me?
The Twinflame tether hadn’t been official then, but even before the bond solidified, I’d felt him tugging at me—threads winding tighter, sparks burning hotter. The ring he gave me had tied us together, however briefly. Could he have used that as a bypass? A lockpick of sorts? Could my own emerging magic have let him slip through, tricking the wards into believing it was me who entered?
The thought made me sick. Worse, it made me wonder what Alaric had really wanted when he agreed to be bonded. Was it what he said that night in the chamber hallway . . . or was I just another tool he could use—my blood, my magic, my bond—nothing more than a key to doors I didn’t even know existed? Did he see me as his father did? Just another weapon to use against the Stonebound? But then why take the ring at all? What good could it do for him or his father?
I pressed a hand to my chest; the bond pulsing faintly, as if Alaric could sense my spiraling panic. The idea was unbearable: that my connection to him—or even my heritage—was the reason he could bypass Dan’s protections.
“I don’t know.” I shook my head, forcing myself back to the present. “But I decided to do my own digging. I went back to the special editions room in the library and found that same ancient tome Alaric had hidden in there when he first told me about being my mentor and what it meant to be a Bloodwright.”
Dan studied me for a moment, his brows knitting as if he wanted to ask what else was wrong, but he let it go. He sat back, furrowing his brow.
“He took a book out of the Council chambers? And yet he seemed shocked by my own little library.”
“But there was more in the book than just information,” I continued. “There were lineage and genealogy charts with notes written in the margins. My name was there and yours, and Sara-Kate’s, Michelle Nelson’s, and the girl Ashe who supposedly killed herself.”
“Wait, slow down.” Dan looked as if he were about to pass out. He sat swiftly in the chair opposite me. “You said the Nelson girl’s name was in there?”
I nodded. “You were right, Uncle Dan. I think the murders and mysterious deaths that have been happening have to do with Bloodwright emergence. I think someone is forcing them to emerge like you said. And maybe Alaric and his father know but aren't doing anything about them.”
Dan folded his hands, tucking them beneath his chin as he sat quietly, thinking deeply. My heart pounded, the bond to Alaric sharpening again, as if he could sense my anxiety. Just as Dan was about to respond, we heard the distant voice of Tiffany from the kitchen through the walls.
“Dan! Come here! I need your taste buds for this!”
He sighed heavily. “We will talk about this later. But we need to get that book and look at those charts. We will go after dinner tonight.”
“Back to the library?” I whispered as I hastily followed him out of the Bloodwright room. “How can we get in?”
“Seeing that Aunt Tiffany still has a key from when she helped renovate the library last spring, I think we can manage it,” he replied quickly. “Hopefully, they haven’t changed the locks since then.”
I nodded silently, following him into the kitchen where Tiffany greeted us happily, completely ignorant of Bloodwrights and Stonebounds and the death that seemed to follow us every step we took.
“Oh, good, Mari! I thought you’d be with Alaric or Sara-Kate.” She beamed, her smile wrinkling the edges of her hazel eyes. Seeing her so happy, so carefree made my chest tighten. “I’m gonna need your taste buds for this too. Iris and I are trying a new recipe for the green bean casserole, and we’re not sure if this seasoning works.”
I forced a smile, alongside Uncle Dan, as we put our Bloodwright problems to the side and pretended to be a normal family. At least for a few hours.
When we had finished dinner and helped Tiffany taste test some dishes she was prepping, Dan made the excuse that he hadn’t spent enough time with me since I had arrived in New York and that he wanted to take me for an evening stroll around the city. Tiffany smiled, her eyes glistening as she ushered us out the door; the idea of us bonding brought her such joy. If only she knew.
Dan whistled, calling a taxi to the curb once we were far enough away from the apartment building. The doorman was a known snitch to Tiffany, so we had to take precautions. We were back at the school within five minutes, Dan leading as we walked across the courtyard towards the library. The building was locked, but as Dan produced Tiffany’s key, my heart calmed as the lock clicked and we made our way inside. I led him up the three flights of stairs and showed him to the room. He used the same key again, luckily able to open the door.
But when I made my way to the same shadowed corner, the glimmer of Alaric’s magical ward shimmering faintly, a sinking feeling took root in my chest. A feeling of guilt and shame, not my own, overwhelmed me for a moment. I pushed the ward back just as I had done earlier, pulling the ancient tome out. But as I flipped through the pages, frantically looking for the genealogy charts and Bloodwright lineage notes, I came across nothing. It was just the tome alone; no notes, no evidence, no proof of what I had found this afternoon.
Alaric had been here. He had sensed my presence and hid the evidence before I could fully investigate it. And instead of raging, throwing the book down, screaming in anger and betrayal, I cried. I sobbed quietly into Dan’s jacket as the guilt and shame I felt suddenly became clear that it wasn’t what I was feeling; it was Alaric. He knew what he had done, and he felt guilty. And I just felt broken.
Chapter Seventeen
Iwoke up to ten text messages and five missed calls from Alaric, all of which I promptly ignored. I was supposed to have met him at the Council Chambers for training, but after the fallout of the night before, I couldn’t get myself out of bed.
Richard had apparently called Dan, furious and questioning why I was ditching my much-needed Bloodwright training, embarrassing Alaric and myself by being a no-show. He made an excuse for me coming down with something, that I needed rest if I was still to attend the cabin trip with them later this week. Something I wanted to avoid, but knew I had to go. I had to pick up my broken pieces by then and demand answers.
But right now, I was content with lying in my bed; the covers pulled up over my head, my phone faintly buzzing on my nightstand as more missed calls and text messages poured in. The bond between us felt intact yet fractured. The connection grew more strained and stinging with remorse. Instead of focusing on the bond or answering Alaric’s messages, I stared at the framed photo of my parents that sat on my bedside table, as if they were watching over me. I never really had too many moments when I really missed them, wishing they were here with me, buttoday was one of those days.
“Hey sleepyhead.” Tiffany’s soft voice broke through my thoughts as she gently opened my bedroom door. “Dan said you didn’t feel very well. Iris isn’t here, but I was going to make pancakes. But if that doesn’t sound good, I can make some plain toast.”
