I stare at her in stunned silence. Were my walls so high that she couldn’t see what she did to me, or how I felt about her?
“You were never second to anyone, Cheryl. I do care about you, more than you will ever know.”
Her green eyes shine brightly when she replies, “If that’s true, then make me a vampire.”
My stomach seems to fall through the snowy ground. Of all the things she could ask of me, she had to desire something not in my power to bestow. “I’d give you anything, Cheryl, but that’s a wish I cannot grant.”
She leans forward, getting onto her knees, and grabs my hands. Her eyes glimmer with tears once more. “Please, Ronan.You weren’t cursed. You have the power to make vampires. The king doesn’t ever need to know.”
For the first time since I lost my parents, tears sting my eyes. My heart shatters into a million pieces. I want to give in, not only because I don’t want Karl to live an eternity alone, but because I can’t bear a world in which Cheryl doesn’t exist. But I made a vow to the king, the male who saved my life, took me in, and treated me like his own son when I had no one in the world. If I attempt to change Cheryl, it will be akin to stabbing the king in the back. I couldn’t live with the shame of such a dishonorable deed.
“I’m sorry, Cheryl. What you’re asking of me… it’s impossible.”
Her expression changes from supplicating to rage in the blink of an eye. She shoves me back, then springs to her feet.
“It’s not impossible, Ronan. You’re just a coward who won’t disobey your master. I had it all wrong. Karl and I were never the pets—youare.”
Seven
RONAN
SCOTLAND, 1501
The sun has set, but I’m too tired, and Mum hasn’t come to wake us yet. I hate getting out of bed when it’s so cold outside. I burrow deeper under the blanket, moving closer to Connor, my younger brother. He’s curled up like a ball, clutching his favorite toy, a miniature wooden sword I carved for him.
I’m drifting back to sleep when the screaming starts, followed by the sharp stench of wood burning. I sit upright with my heart stuck in my throat. Smoke billows in through the cracks in the door.
I shake my brother. “Connor, wake up. There’s a fire!”
“What?” He rubs his eyes, not quite awake yet. He’s only four and not aware of the danger.
“Hurry! We have to find Mum and Dad.” I jump to my feet and help Connor do the same. We’re wearing only our sleep shirts, but there’s no time to look for our boots or coats.
We manage to run out of the house, but the horror that greets us makes us stop. Soldiers on horses are brandishing their swords and cutting down whoever gets in their paths. Fromthe corner of my eye, I see two familiar forms. Mum and Dad, lying in the dirt. They aren’t moving. My ears are ringing with a persistent sound. I don’t need to move closer to know they’re gone. A lump gets lodged in my throat, and I can’t breathe right. My entire body seems to freeze, making it impossible to move. A desperate scream echoes in the smoky air, jolting me from my growing panic. I can’t despair now. I have to keep Connor safe.
“We must run!” I yell, dragging him with me.
Everything around us is chaos, disorienting me. I don’t even know what part of the village we’re in now. Giant flames devour the thatched roofs, collapsing them inward in showers of orange sparks. Folks are running instead of fighting, and their screams cut through the roar of flames while cattle bellow from the stables.
“We have to?—”
Someone collides with Connor and me, sending us to the ground.
I try to get back on my feet, but I’m shoved in the mud face-first. Every time I attempt to move, I’m pushed down into the earth until I can barely breathe. This is like being caught in a stampede of wild horses, and if we don’t get up, Connor and I will be crushed. We won’t die in this manner, but we can’t run away from the danger if our bodies are broken. Summoning all the strength left in me, I push myself back onto my feet and look for my brother. He isn’t next to me like I thought.
“Connor! Where are you?” I shout, desperation clutching my heart in a vicious hold.
I search for him, not caring now about the madness around me. Smoke carries the sour scent of timbers reduced to char, mixed with the sweetness of burning straw and something foul underneath. Death. That’s what the stench is. The slashing continues, and now and again, I spot mangled bodies, half buried in the mud.
“Conn—” A coughing fit cuts off my words. My eyes sting, and I taste the bitterness of the ashes on my tongue.
“Ronan!” I finally hear his voice in the distance.
“Connor, I’m coming!” I run forward, hoping I chose the right direction.
But I don’t get far. A black horse blocks my path. The rider is a huge male, wearing black armor and a long cape. “Get out of here, lad. Run to the hills!”
He has a strange accent, but that’s all I get from this brief encounter. He engages in battle with another soldier on a horse and disappears from view. I hear blades clashing, but that sound is soon swallowed by the cacophony of destruction.
