“But he made the vampyres attack.”
“They’re all dead now though, ain’t they?”
I felt the divide like a crack beneath my feet.
“Where is he? Where’s the one who killed my son?” Nerissa broke through the crowd first, marching up to her mate as Veskor tried to cringe away. She didn’t roar or lunge. She walked straight up to Veskor and slapped him. The sound echoed through the trees like one of them had snapped in half. The crowd went quiet, watching what he would do. Canavar let go and Veskor fell to his knees.
Rage poured out of me. Maybe it was my crazy hormones, or the sight of a witch striking a draken, but I lost it.
“Get your hands off him,” I growled. “He is sick! Look how unwell he is! Enya!”
Enya was at my side a moment later. “I think he’s sick. He needs to sit down, perhaps in my nest,” I suggested.
Benedict’s mouth opened, his expression murderous. I shot him a filthy look and his mouth shut with an audible click.
Nerissa wasn’t feeling charitable either.
“He lured out my child, and Anar died because of him!” she said, voice cold enough to frost steel. “Why did you do it?”
Veskor swallowed, jaw clenching. He blinked rapidly, as if fighting to stay awake. “I wanted to be with my own kind. Your wards wouldn’t let me in.” He paused, eyes misting over. “No one ever lets me in.”
He blinked, eyes focusing on Perri. That earned hisses from half the crowd.
“And you thought that gave you the right to steal a child?” someone shouted.
“I didn’t steal,” he snapped. “She fell. I caught her. She chose me.”
Perri, still wrapped in her parents’ arms, lifted her headand called, “He DID! He saved me EVERY TIME! He fed me and kept me warm and he didn’t let me freeze!”
Her mother burst into fresh sobs.
“She wouldn’t have needed saving if she hadn’t wandered off,” Benedict rumbled from next to me.
Kieran’s eyes shunted left and right, keeping an eye on Benedict’s temper as well.
“I think new blood should be celebrated,” Kieran calmly stated in a quiet tone so that only Benedict and I could hear.
I agreed, but Benedict was still vibrating with rage. The crowd around us was volatile, demanding reparations. Nerissa shut her eyes, her fury shaking the ground.
“Enough,” growled Ronan, dropping heavily to the platform.
He straightened, face lined with determination and a confidence I wasn’t used to seeing on him. His scent had even changed a bit.
Ronan explained what happened with Veskor and Anar.
“But, after speaking to Varun and Georg,” Ronan continued, “between all of us the vampyres are all dead or about to be. Every last one. There is no more vampyre threat left in Dorea. That is a good thing. More drakens, however we came by them, is a good thing.”
A wave of uneasy murmurs rippled through the crowd as Ronan stared them down, daring anyone to disagree. Benedict’s eyes flicked toward me, wary. His gaze settled on Ronan with a strange, begrudging respect.
Nerissa looked pissed enough to spit fire. “So good thing my son died to keep you all safe, is that it? And my mate is injured?”
Tears escaped down her cheeks.
Benedict stepped forward then, shoulders squared,wings flaring in authority as he moved to stand next to Ronan.
Canavar tilted his head, stepping in front of both of them. “Nerissa, Anar chose to leave. Even if Veskor baited him, you knew he was suffering on the island. He would’ve left at some point anyway. It is not Veskor’s fault. I have already forgiven him. And he single-handedly tried to take out the nine vampyres who did this to me.”
He gestured to his wing. Benedict lifted a dark eyebrow and looked at Veskor again, as if only seeing him for the first time.
