Page 127 of Devoted

Had he tried to do the same thing?

But somehow failed?

“Your brother will survive this, but perhaps it would be kinder if you killed him now,” Blackwood urged.

My entire body locked up tight as Dante dragged me another step away, his heart pounding even faster than mine.

“Let’s see how loyal you are when your brother’s gone mad from the pain. Or… I could make this stop. Restore your brother to what he was… before. All my son has to do is come back and join the fold. It’s your choice, Nicolò. I will give you until nightfall to decide.”

Nico’s jaw clenched tight, shadows slashing the air around him. For once, I was glad no one else in the room could see them, or they’d be running for their lives.

Blackwood’s presence left us like a candle blowing out. Silently, without another sound, Luca’s face went slack and gray, beads of sweat shivering on his forehead as he sank back into the pillow.

“Nico,” Gabriel said quietly. “Is your father through the wards? Does he know where we are?”

No response.

“Nico,” Gabriel said more urgently. “If Blackwood’s coming… if he’s already here, we have to evacuate. At least let us get the staff to safety.”

The infirmary door slammed open, and we all spun, bracing ourselves for the attack, Nico’s shadows spinning up in front of us.

Severin barreled through first; Emilia followed him, unhurried as always, her hair in an elaborate twist, garnets sparkling among the dark strands, dress swishing around her heeled boots.

“We heard his voice.” Severin methodically assessed the room, knife in one hand, gun in the other. His uniform was unbuttoned at the top, the only clue he’d spent the night coordinating an aborted attack.

“If Blackwood wounded him deliberately, then he’s been marked.” Emilia swept past him, straight up to Luca, and flattened her hand right down on top of the blackened flesh of his chest. Right over his heart. For a long moment, we all held our breath, then the priestess slowly removed her hand.

“He can see through this boy. Hear through him. Use him to send messages, as you’ve just heard. He’s been inside the wards this whole time…”

This whole time.

Bitter regret turned the inside of my mouth sour. Not only had I left my brother alone, I’d left him with fucking Cesare Blackwood and his sharpened cruelties, wielding words and threats like blades. What chance had Luca had, really?

What chance did any of us have?

Failure became a weight crushing down on my shoulders, the realization we were completely out of options. Blackwood—and most likely, my uncle—knew of tonight’s plans. We were facing an army of monsters, and now, we’d lost even the element of surprise.

And I’d lost my brother.

Not to death, as I’d feared, but to someone even worse.

“The Drax from yesterday weren’t from outside the wards,” Severin was explaining to Nico. “We have a theory that they’ve been inside all along.”

“We searched every inch of this villa,” Nico insisted stubbornly. “The island. We didn’t miss a thing.”

“Well, you missed something because I saw them in the living room with my own eyes, and there could be more.” Emilia’s lips pinched tight as her focus fell on me. “Blackwood has possessed your brother. Which means he’s heard every word spoken, every conversation. Every decision you’ve made within these walls.”

“If that was true, Giovanni already knew we were coming last night. He would have been… expecting… us.” Gabriel dragged his hands down his face, chest heaving with one mighty breath as our eyes met.

Because if our enemies knew what we were planning…

“If we hadn’t called last night’s mission off,” Gabriel said slowly, shaking his head, “we would have walked straight into a trap.”

“But we didn’t.” Dante’s arms tightened around my middle, as if he needed something real to hang on to. “Because of you, Emberline. If Luca hadn’t collapsed, if you hadn’t decided to stay with him… we would all be prisoners right now.”

Or worse, I thought.

An accident, or a miracle, however you wanted to look at it, but Luca had saved our lives, and now I had to save him in return.