Page 70 of Merciless Queen

And everything.

Because even when making the weapon, I knew I wouldn’t use it. Not that I particularly enjoy waiting around for Dimitri and the others to save me, but I’m practical enough to see that me against whatever army he has hidden in this place means alosing battle. To fight him, to win, sparks a larger war when I only want out of here.

“You’re stalling. Making me believe you’re compliant when we both know you’re everything but.”

Stop.My teeth press tightly together, my grip clenching around the wood. He’s trying to entice my anger, to urge me into action, but I don’t understand what he gets out of this.

“I won’t stop you.”

If he means that, then I can take this risk. In the past…however long I’ve been here, I’ve seen no other soul on the property. Not to say, he doesn’t have them hiding somewhere, but it could be a risk worth taking. Kill him, escape his property and head into the city, and call home. One flight out and this nightmare ends.

So why can’t I take the step and ram the wood through his chest?

“Kill me, Vanessa.”

I angle the wood up toward his throat instead, aware it’ll be an easier and quicker death. The thin skin means he’ll choke on his blood and be dead within minutes.

He smiles, despite the weapon poised at his throat. “There she is. I wondered where the true Volkov queen disappeared to. Despite everything people claim about you, I know you’ll do what’s necessary.”

My hold falters, my gaze unwillingly moving up to his. To study and learn the meaning behind that statement. “What’s that mean?”

The bedroom door opens then and another figure fills the space. I’m about to move, to grab Zeno and use him as bait against the intruder, but lower my arm completely when the person isn’t a soldier, but a woman. More like a girl, maybe: barely an adult. Hardly out of school, if my guess is correct. Herskin is smooth and there’s an innocence floating from her as she takes in the scene with a single, slow blink.

A blink that captivates me in ways no one, not even Zeno, has.

Because I’ve seen her before. Well, notherexactly, but parts of her. Her long, brown hair is the colour of chocolate in the sunlight, melting in gentle waves down her back. Her tanned skin and heart-shaped face reminds me of the man in front of me but those aren’t the familiar features.

It’s her eyes.

Bright blue, like the colour of the sky reflecting over a summer’s ocean on a hot day.

Myeyes.

Impossible.

Most of my features are from Mama, which Papa claimed was one of the best things to come from my birth because it helped keep her alive. My hair, my face, my skin tone, it’s all her.

All except my eyes. Those are from Papa.

And it’s those very eyes gazing back at me with surprise, but somehow not shock. Not like what I’m feeling when my lowered weapon slips entirely from my slack grip and everything inside me stops working.

“Hi. I’m Serafina.” Her soft voice is paired with a quick wave. Perfect lips with a deep cupid’s bow pull up on one side. “Didn’t realize my brother had company.”

Brother.Which makes her Zeno’s sister. Zeno’s sister is named Serafina.

“Not what. Who.”

“Then who?—”

“Serafina.”

Zeno’s sister, with eyes identical to my own…and Papa’s.

Impossible. It’s simply…no. It’s—no!

Pretty sure my lungs stop functioning. My thoughts go from sensible to muddled to a giant puddle of goop with no way to piece them back together.

Of all the possibilities of who Serafina could be,thisisn’t what I ever considered. Evenconsideredconsidering. This has to be a sick, twisted joke on Zeno’s part, but to ask him means looking away from her and somehow putting enough coherent thoughts together to form a question.

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