Page 48 of Their Blood Queen

I nod. “What is it?”

“Never regret who you are.”

I blink at her a few times. I’m not even sure if I know who I am, other than Lady Scarlett of the Nightingale household.

But I have a feeling she is referencing my true origins. The ones that give me the kind of backbone that can land me in trouble.

Or win me a place as a Lady of the Rinhold family and save my mother’s life.

“I will do my best,” I tell her. If I don’t know exactly who I am, then there’s not much to regret. So as far as promises go, I’ve made worse.

Seeming satisfied, she takes the medicinal box from her nightstand and puts it onto her tray. She opens it, takes out one of the layers, and reveals a secret compartment where she places the anti-aging elixir.

She puts everything away without saying a word.

She knows what I’m willing to give up to keep her alive, but it also has to do with what she just said.

“Don’t let the nightmares control you.”

My eyes widen.

Does she know about my nightmares?

“What do you mean?”

She blows out a slow breath. “I just mean that everything you’ve gone through is enough to give anyone powerful nightmares. Don’t let them make you doubt who you are.”

Who am I? I am the child of a village designed for monsters.

I was always meant to be a sacrifice.

And I don’t regret that one bit.

One of the marks on my arm starts to fade, and we both watch it as the visual countdown reminds me that my choice has already been made.

No regrets, Scarlett, I tell myself.

My nose twitches as the sour scent of rotten peaches flickers in my memory. Ignoring it, I begin to stack up my empty plates.

I won’t let the nightmares control me… No matter what.

CHAPTER 11

CAIN

Hunger stirs in my stomach. Despite enjoying the most succulent prayers from Lady Scarlett Nightingale, I haven’t had another taste of them in days.

So I indulge and slip into the Dream Realm to relive the moment. Sometimes the dream of a good meal is almost as fulfilling as the real thing.

Her prayers wash over me, or at least the memory of them does. My eyelashes flutter as I taste the faint echo of peaches as she says my name.

“Please, Cain. Let my mother live, and protect me against the Elite games I must play.”

I might not be a true God, but prayers don’t entirely land on deaf ears when I hear them. I’m a powerful monster, one with many talents, including the ability to make subtle changes in the Dream Realm.

Changes such as opening up Eveline Nightingale’s mind to hope instead of death. She had succumbed to a coma days prior, one that had been just as much a battle of wills as it had been an illness.

I can’t necessarily heal her, but I can possibly help.

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