Step after endless step. Up stairs, down tunnels, through doorways. The walk became exhausting and I kept telling myself,just one step at a time. One step at a time.
My thoughts naturally floated to Rhazien and I wondered where he was in this vast underground dwelling.
I was lost in my rhythmic mantra when I slammed into a stone wall. No, not stone. Dommik’s frozen form.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.” The whisper was like a strained breeze.
The flash of the vision assaulted me. Eryx and Rhazien sat on separate couches in what I could only describe as a blood harem. The scene was a mixture of body parts, broken glass, blood, smoking incense, and shackled slaves. Some cowering, some lifeless and gray. The pile of bodies tended to the needs of the seated regents whose laughter reverberated off the cavern walls.
As if the memories were desperate to be seen, I was pulled from one tunnel to another. The next vision was Rhazien and Eryx overseeing a stadium of Hive citizens. They all looked down on a race in progress. Black blurs sprinted around the circular track. Gnashing, panting, salivating, giant hounds fought each other.
The last vision was all hanging silks and mattresses. Rhazien’s head rolled back with a blonde head of hair bobbing between his bare legs.
Through all of this, I felt Dommik’s conflict raging within him. His nostalgia for a time before the Southern Hive rules, a dedication to his regent, a sadness for me. The unexpected vision had come on so quickly, I hadn’t prepared myself for the onslaught of scenes and emotions.
Tears fell as I searched the details. Trails of blood decorated Rhazien’s mouth and neck. The beautiful green of his eyes had transformed to onyx and black veins spread across his temples.
That wasn’t the man I knew. But then again, he wasn’t a man. He was a vampire. And maybe the restraint and the kindness had been a front. Maybe this had been his true nature all along. He was the monster I’d grown up fearing.
I’d believed him, that I was special. The only one worthy of consideration because of what? My magical abilities? This curse of unwanted visions? All because of this access to the Source?
All of it had been a lie.
“Reyva!” Dommik’s hands on my shoulders pulled me back to my body and I fell into his chest. “Whoa, whoa. Hey. What is it? What did you see?”
His arms wrapped around me and his chin rested atop my head.
“So many dead.” I sobbed uncontrollably. “And—and—Rhazien with—with?—”
He stroked my hair. My mind, trained that my body was only meant to be touched by Rhazien, told me to pull away. But I cemented myself into that space and I leaned into him harder.
He hushed and consoled me, “I told you. Things are different here.”
New breath finally made its way into my lungs, filled with the scent of pine and leather.
“Listen to me. Those people—we can’t save them.” I was still beneath his grip. “And it’s awful. It’s terrible. It’s monstrous what’s happening here. But if we abandon our task and act on reckless emotion, we won’t be able to ensure thatthisway of life comes to an end.”
“We can end it?” I wiped a tear and sniffled.
“We can end it. By finding the stone, by elevating Rhazien, we can end it.” He pulled me into a tight embrace as if sealing the space between our bodies would also seal the promise.
“We can end it,” I breathed into Dommik’s chest. Maybe not for these people, but their children. For my own child. For Lydia’s children. To keep Atoris peaceful and safe.
A new sense of calm and security descended into my bones. We got what we’d come here for. We had the book. We could find the stone. And Rhazien…I would deal with that later.
My lids fell closed at the prospect of a way forward. A confidence bloomed within me that the hardest parts of our plan were behind us. But the presence of an evening frost wilted the new bloom. The petals of hope fell one by one as I realized there was someone else in the room with us.
From a darkened corner, Rhazien’s voice growled, “What’s all this, then?”
Chapter 27
The Source
Rhazien’s gaze was murderous.
He seemed well. Not a hair out of place beneath his crown. No blood stains on his clothes. No sign of the ink-black veins spreading from his eyes. Just a postured, centuries old royal vampire waiting for an explanation. But he also looked entirely different to me. Dirty, ruined.
