Page 129

Kleitos cleared his throat, his arms folding behind his head as he settled deeper into the pillows. “If, when the time comes, you decide his answers don’t suit you,” his voice barely more than a whisper, “then I’ll take care of the issue. I won’t let you bear that.” His gaze fell on the side of my face. I could feel it, not heavy, but full. The care in his stare radiated into me, soft and steady, until my heart swelled with emotions I didn’t want spilling over. My throat tightened, and my eyelids fluttered shut. Drawing a settling breath through my nose, and the familiar scent of Kleitos. It was warm and floral, like standing in a summer meadow at noon.

Pushing down the grunt that rose in my throat, I placed a hand over my heart.

If only I could feel Valentina in this moment, her grace, her calming presence wrapping around me like silk. But maybe… maybe self-assurance is what I needed. Her voice in my head would’ve been comforting. A crutch. It was better that she had stayed behind. Kleitos gave me my silence, but he reached out, took my hand, and pressed a kiss to the back of it. The gesture cracked something in me wide open.

I opened my eyes, finding him already nodding like he knew what I was about to say. “But I want William,” I said, my voice breaking. “That one is mine.” A few tears slipped out, and I wiped them away with the back of my free hand.

“I know you got this,” Kleitos said softly, kissing my hand once more before rising from my bed and stepping back toward his own. “Get some rest. Don’t overthink it.”

Easier said than done. I’d been crowned king of overanalyzing. But Kleitos had lived lifetimes longer than me; his words were probably worth listening to. “Good night,” I called after him. I turned over, facing the window. My fingers gripped the comforter as I pulled it higher over my shoulders, letting a final yawn escape. Sleep came like snowfall, slow, cold, and quiet.

That day’s sleep passed in a black static blur, no interruptions from Starvos, not even a pep talk. Maybe he didn’t want to influence me with the memory of my father, Mark. Or maybe he saw the situation clearly and knew there was only one possible outcome. But I wouldn’t know. I was left to guess his position while he combed through my memories like they were pages from his personal biography. In a way, I was grateful for the uninterrupted rest. But it didn’t last long.

When I woke, a tension curled deep in my stomach, twisting at my core, pulling inward as if trying to devour itself. The only feeling I could compare it to was waking up the morning of something you’ve been dreading, a test, a funeral, a confrontation. It was anxiety, pure and unfiltered. The twin moons spilled their light through the window, painting the room in soft waves of orange and red, pierced by the bright glow of the larger moon’s silvery light. The aurora shimmered faintly beyond the glass, casting liquid ribbons of color across the tabletop and soaking into the grooves of the wood like stained glass bleeding through parchment.

Rolling on my side, my body was still heavy with sleep. Kleitos was dressing across the room. He was tugging on a loose black tunic and a fresh pair of dark slacks, fitted but meant for movement. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he stepped into them.

“Oh, good, you’re up,” he said, tossing me a warm smile. His deep voice was smoother than the night’s air. He turned to the dresser and pulled out a matching outfit for me, black tunic, fitted slacks, and thick leather boots. With a casual flick of his wrist, Kleitos tossed them across the room. They hit me square in the chest with a soft thump. “Get those on,” he simply said.

I wanted to groan, but I knew better. The heaviness in my chest hadn’t faded, but I pushed through it, knowing what the day ahead demanded. I pulled myself out from under the covers and grabbed the clothes with a yawn. “I got you,” I muttered, stretching my arms overhead as I stood.

Nodding once without another word, he crossed the short distance to the door and slipped out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone in the quiet. At this stage of the mission... I didn’t think I wanted to be alone. My own thoughts had a habit of getting loud, spiraling into contradictions when left unchecked. Still, I moved through the motions. I stripped out of my nightclothes and pulled on the outfit Kleitos had tossed me.

The tunic was soft against my skin, looser than the ones I was used to. The pants, too, were pliant, cottony, and breathable, almost too light for the cold. I’d probably freeze in these, but I understood the intention. Kleitos must’ve anticipated that William and Mark would be on the defensive. He wanted us unburdened, nothing stiff or layered to slow us down. Sliding into the boots, I forced the back of the heel down with the ball of my foot. The silence crept back in, thick as fog, until the door swung open again. Kleitos reentered, back first, arms full. He carried a silver tray with two buckets stacked high with synthetic blood bags. Clear plastic tips poked over the brim, each bag sealed and pulsing faintly with warmth.

He moved gracefully through the space, placing the tray down on the table. I took my usual seat, and as he did, a low rumble crawled from my stomach, followed by the sharp burn at the base of my throat. Hunger. Anticipation. “I want you to finish this bucket,” he said, pointing to the one nearest me. “You’ll need every ounce of strength if this turns into a fight.” He didn’t wait. By the time he finished the sentence, he’d already torn into the first bag, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, eyes flicking up. “No need to savor it. This is about survival.”

His stare was serious enough to push me into motion. I reached for the bags without another word, and one by one, we silently sank our fangs in.

Each bag crinkled like soft silk as it collapsed under my grip. The more I drank, the stronger the bloodlust became, not the kind that let you savor each unique blood type, but a primal urge that pushed me to keep going, mindlessly. It wasn’t indulgence. It was primal. By the time I reached the last one, it felt like the first. A few moments passed before the haze lifted. My stomach pulsed with fullness, heavy and hard beneath my ribs, but more than that, I could feel it in my limbs. The blood moved through me like a current, lighting up each muscle, leaving a buzz beneath the surface. Power hummed in my veins like a living force.

Kleitos finished before I did. He was already gathering the crumpled plastic skins and tossing them into one of the buckets. I helped with the cleanup, our movements quick and practiced. When the table was clear, he looked at me. “You ready?” he asked. “It’s time. We have to go.”

Letting out a stuffed breath, dry and low. “The anthem of my life, it’s time,” I muttered, mostly to myself. Then louder: “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“Don’t think peace won’t come,” he said, offering a half-hearted smile as he stepped forward and gave my shoulder a light squeeze. “It will.” He turned toward the door. “They’re already waiting in the lobby. That’s why I had us eat quickly; they’ve been up for hours.”

I nodded, unreadable. No smile, no frown. Just quiet resolve. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for something like this,” I said, standing. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Sweeping our cloaks over our shoulders, Kleitos gave me one final pat on my back. He led us out of room 315. For some reason, it felt like this might be the last night we would ever return here. At least Angelique would finally stop complaining about Bomani leaving fur on her linens. And about how much food he went through. Apparently, this inn catered mostly to vampires, so they had few cooks on staff. Poor Angelique still ended up having to cook in the wee hours of the morning whenever we stumbled back in hungry.

Descending the stairs quietly, our footsteps were light against the wooden steps, careful not to wake the sleeping guests. Once we reached the lobby, Arianna and Bomani stood close together, not quite touching, but hovering in a way that felt… intimate. Arianna was the first to spot us. Her smile faded into a tight line as her eyes scanned us both, calculating as ever.

I met her gaze with a warm smile. I didn’t have the patience for one of her power plays today, not when we had a shared goal ahead. “Don’t you look nice,” I said, letting my eyes sweep over her attire.

She wore another sleek outfit, tight, matte black leather pants and a corset that hugged her perfectly. No shine, no flash, just deadly elegance. Bomani was a lucky man. “Oh, this is new. Flattery?” she replied with a playful tilt of her head. “Now look who’s flirting with whom. Please, I’m taken, sir.”

The unexpected humor threw me for a loop, but I welcomed it.

Bomani looked between us with quiet amusement, then wordlessly pulled her closer by the hips. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a nod of acknowledgment, cool and casual. Meanwhile, Kleitos had peeled off to the side, whispering something low to Angelique at the counter. I couldn’t make out the words, but when he returned to us, he gave her a small smile over his shoulder.

“I hope to see you all again,” Angelique called out. “Always a pleasure doing business.”

Kleitos rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Love’s robbing me blind.” Then he turned his attention back to us. He didn’t need to give instructions; we all knew to follow him through the inn’s entrance. His blond curls drifted in the gust as the door flung open, and we trailed in his path into the bitter winter air.

Even with my cloak, the thin fabric of the clothes Kleitos had given me offered little protection. The cold bit at my ankles, and the cotton flapped violently with every blast of wind. For half a second, I considered using my powers to shield us in a cocoon of air, but I’d never tried that while in motion. For all I knew, I’d end up launching someone halfway across the kingdom. Before I could debate it any further, Arianna surged ahead, a blur of movement in the snow. Bomani followed close behind, then me, with Kleitos bringing up the rear.

After so many runs through this part of the city, I could probably navigate it with my eyes closed—though I wouldn’t dare. The wildlife had been active up this trail. I’d caught a few more glimpses of Velarune’s strange fauna throughout the week. One night, we passed a pack of gimels prowling near the path. They were the weirdest things I’d seen since the Dreward. The best comparison I had was a proboscis monkey, if you supersized it, gave it an elongated nose, a huge pink face, and the purest white fur that almost blended with the snow. No magic aura. No glow. Just deeply unfortunate faces.