Lastnight’srevelationssitheavy on my soul, like bone-crushing boulders over insignificant butterfly wings.
I’ve all but barricaded myself in the bedroom for the past day, trying to put sense into this new reality I’m currently living. I couldn’t hold Killian’s gaze any longer, not after his harrowing confession.
Heaviness weighs down my limbs as I try to disentangle truth from fiction, facts from lies. I’m past the tidal wave of rage I initially felt at the realm encompassing deception we’ve all been spoon-fed since the cradle. Now I’m neck deep in the murky, breath-hindering quicksand of grief. My heart bleeds out for the vampires and the atrocities they’ve been facing since the olden days, both at the hands of Faes, and now in the relentless, coercive clutches of Morweena.
Turns out that the infamous vampire ruthlessness doesn’t come from their wicked second nature.
No.
Centuries upon centuries of fighting for their existence, never knowing peace, never tasting unburdened freedom—that’s what forged it.
Guilt washes over me like a jet-black wave of muggy tar.
It clings to my lungs, making my breathing labored.
It drips from my ribs, marking my insides in betrayal.
Painful guilt clenches my brain, squashing, distorting my vision.
How can I continue this charade, pretending there is a light at the end of the tunnel for them, when I know damn well Aurora will never come for me? That she is not my savior, or the beacon of hope they desperately need her to be?
I groan in defeat.
No, I cannot wait a moment longer without telling Killian my truth. A half-truth, at that. As much as I want to help him, and dear Gods that never fucking care to look my way in mercy—I want to help—I am unwilling to share all my gruesome secrets.
What good can come from him knowing the extent of my brokenness? The torture and vivid horrors my sister put me through? I wouldn’t survive him regarding me like a deadbeat doll—like a being mangled beyond redemption.
What I can do is offer my help in the only way I know how. By pledging to their cause, and joining their efforts to defeat the onpyrs, even if I’m just a magicless female. I will not stand back while innocents suffer at the hands of pure evil. Something deep in my soul tugs at me, wanting me to fight alongside Killian, not against him.
I must also warn them that their plans for me are futile. That theymustentrap Aurora some other way. Be prepared for whatever preposterous claims she will spew in order to complete the prophecy.
My twin is an unholy force to be reckoned with, and in order to be weaponized against Morweena, they will pay a steep price. There is no goodness in her heart to draw from, no compassionate cords to be touched.
But somehow, faced with the evil sorceress hell-bent on kneeling the entire realm to her power-hungry, destructive will, my sister shines through as the lesser evil.
With my decision made, I walk the gloomy, silent halls separating my bedchamber from Killian’s wing of the castle.
It’s high time we had a heart to heart. Sort of…
I’m about to knock on the heavy black doors of his lounging chamber when hushed, determined whispers draw my attention to another room down the corridor. I move on silent, shaking feet towards the faint sounds, and tap steadily at the entrance, before slipping into the unknown chamber.
Four sets of smoldering eyes look my way, and I almost feel the need to cower in the corner, ashamed of my intrusion.
Killian, Blaise, the mean vampire female, and another male I’ve never seen before watch me with different expressions.
Weary.
Tender.
Amused.
Enraged.
“Who let the magicless scum in?” Leilah huffs through gritted teeth at the same time that Killian softly questions, “Little umbra, are you alright?”
Her sharp gaze hones in on him for a second before returning to me, burning with renewed hostility.
“I…” my tone shakes with mild apprehension, “I want to help.” I steel my resolve, chin held high. Although I might be magicless scum, as the female implied, I can hold my own. And now I wish to hold theirs too.
