Page 84 of The Vespertine Treaty

Silas nodded once, a sharp jerk of his chin, and turned to carry the sleeping animal away.

I was left with Friedrik in the ruins of the room. The anger was no longer hot; it was cold. It was the absolute zero of space. It was a focused, crystalline need for violence.

"Who?" I asked, the word dropping into the silence like a stone into a well.

Friedrik swallowed hard, stepping over a pile of shattered porcelain. “Lad… the list... it isn't short."

I let out a harsh, mirthless laugh. "No. It isn't. Half the realm wants me dead. The other half wants my power."

I ran a hand through my hair, gripping the strands until it hurt, trying to ground myself. I needed to think, but my mind was a screaming Void of Ophelia, Ophelia, Ophelia.

"She fought," I said, looking at the door. "She would have fought."

"If they used sedatives on the fox..." Friedrik trailed off.

"They used them on her." The thought made my hands curl into fists so tight my knuckles turned white. The idea of someone touching her, rendering her unconscious, moving her body while she was helpless...

It made the contamination in my Void surge again, coating the walls in viscous darkness.

Rhana padded to my side, her earlier disdain vanished. She pressed her massive head against my thigh, her muscles coiled tight. Her voice was a low, lethal hum.

“We will make them pay,”she commanded."We are going to war, Cain.”

Friedrik moved closer, his expression shifting from fear to a deep, profound sadness that caught me off guard. He looked at the empty doorway where Silas had disappeared.

"I miss her already," he said quietly.

I snapped my head toward him, my lip curling. "She has been gone an hour, Friedrik. Do not speak of her as if she is dead."

"I'm not," he said, holding my gaze. "But the house... it feels different. Empty." He looked down at his hands. "That little Aenite... she brought a light into this mausoleum that I haven't seen in centuries, Cain. A ray of sunlight worthy of the best summer days. Maybe one I’ve only seen when your dear mamma was still alive.“

I stared at him, my chest tightening.

"I got used to it," Friedrik continued, a wistful smile touching his lips. "The patter of her feet. Her giggles when that fox did something stupid. The way she hummed when she thought no one was around." He looked up at me, his eyes fierce. "I finally made a friend. After eight hundred years of your brooding lineage and now you and Silas’s silence, I finally had a friend."

He took a step toward me, poking a finger into my chest.

"So you better get her back, Cain. You fix this."

I wanted to snap at him. I wanted to tell him his sentimentality was a weakness, that his affection for her was irrelevant compared to my obsession. But the words died in my throat.

Because he was right. She was the light. And without her, the darkness of this house—and the darkness inside me—was absolute. My darkness was already spinning out of control, pouring out of me in overwhelming waves, touching everything in its grasps.

I swatted his hand away, but there was no heat in it. I huffed, turning my back to him to stare into the dying fire of the hearth.

"I will get her back," I said. My voice was low, vibrating with a promise that was etched in blood.

I looked at the flames, picturing the faces of every lord, every scum, every Cenite mercenary who might have dared to touch what was mine.

"And when I find out who took her," I whispered to the fire, "I am going to murder everyone who even looked at her. I will leave nothing but ash."

I turned back to Friedrik, the monster fully awake now, cold and calculating and ready for war.

"Prepare my horse, Friedrik. And sharpen my blade. Tonight, the world bleeds for taking my wife.”

CHAPTER 31

OPHELIA