Page 27 of House of Lilith

An image of my brother flickers before my eyes. “Yeah, but it’s Uncle,” his words echo in my mind. But it wasn’t the words, it was the look in his eyes that rendered me speechless. Making me feel, once again, like a heartless, disloyal bitch for daring to think anything less than the very best of any of themillionfucking members of our family.

Knowing no one can hear me, I let out a loud, angry cry, my hand automatically darting to my knife. Gritting my teeth, I whip it out of its holster and I start twirling it around my fingers.

I mean, is he stupid? It’s not like I wasaccusingUncle. But it’d be far from the first time someone from our family did something devious, treacherous or both just to settle an old grudge. And we all know that this might be one of them. After all, in the Umbrage, the Romanovs were among the more involved and more brutal families.

Still spinning my knife, I try to calm down, but it’s just so infuriating. The Games have only just begun, this incident will probably turn out to be a mere coincidence, and even if it didn’t, it’s too soon to place blame on anyone.

But we’re not a regular family, we Romanovs, especially now that I’m about to marry the prince. We have more power and therefore more responsibility than most other families. And that’s exactly why it pisses me off so much, that they’d dismiss me like that,laughat me, makemeout to be the problem, when I’m the only one taking the responsibility seriously.

Gritting my teeth, I stop twirling my knife, I pull my hand back and I jab the tip into the skin on my left wrist.

It hurts, but not nearly enough. I drop the knife and I slam my forehead into my palms, swallowing an angry scream.

I miss him so much, my father, I think as tears start welling in my eyes and my anger turns into frustrated, inconsolable sadness. He was the only one who ever got me. And for a while, after he died, I thought I’d die as well. Then life went on and I found myself in this perpetually anxious, suspended state, all alone in the world, but I was going to school, doing my rituals, playing Thieves and Bloodhounds with the stable boys in the Summer Palace West Wing.

But never again did I feel as seen as I did when he’d appear out of nowhere in the middle of my tutoring session, steal me away from my begrudging governess and take me practicing my knife skills.

“I can’t wait, Anastasya,” he’d sometimes tell me, “to see what you’re going to achieve.”

And there was such conviction in his deep, dark eyes. Such warm, warm conviction.

I lower my hands and I look up, my face sticky with tears. And there’s Lady X gazing at me with that meek look in her eyes.

But there’s also the voice of that alpha echoing in my head. “What, you only let princes do that, Shadowscape girl?”

And then he flashes me that hot grin and I feel a twinge in my stomach.

Blood comes rushing to my cheeks, my hands balling into fists. What the fuck doeshecare aboutmyfucking choices?

I let out a scoff.

But it’s Hilde I’m pissed at. She’s a smart girl, tougher than she looks, one of the best Mind Magic wielders I’ve ever come across. But instead of working on realizing her potential, she’s willingly choosing to be the fucking mother hen, constantly sticking her nose in other people’s business. No wonder she ends up drawing stupid conclusions like the one she drew today. It’s sheer desperation.

Still, it’s maddening, for her to have thought, even for a second, that that was actual flirting, what she saw out there in the Ring. A, I have my Max, or have you forgotten all aboutthat, Hilde? That alpha can’t even compare. B, I was in the middle of a fucking Game. And even if it weren’t for A and B, even if His Hotness would ever show any actual interest in me outside trying to win, that’s definitely not someone I can see myself falling for. I mean, he’s obviously one of those not-a-care-in-the-world, my-nose-up-every-woman’s-skirt kind of guy.

Me? I grit my teeth, I grab my knife off the floor and I jump to my feet. I’m Anastasya Konstantinova Romanova. And I have better things to do than worry about my stupid cousin and some Fiáin rando.

Yes, I have Games to win and a reputation to build. And I don’t give a fuck what my brother thinks. While he’s out eating and fucking himself to death, I’ll be making sure we’re covered in case the today’s incidentdoesn’tturn out to be a coincidence. And I’ll start by doing some digging on our family’s ties to the Games.

Chapter 6 - Dahrian

Strugglingtokeepmyfocus as my mind refuses to stop conjuring images of members of my pack dying in that fucking hospital wing, I’m rushing after Ricky, our footfalls muffled by the thick red carpet beneath our feet. We’re walking down some seemingly random hallway in the Academy and I can’t help but wonder where he’s taking me.

But when I asked him to help me figure out what really happened at the Games, he said not to worry, he knew exactly where to look for answers. And besides, it’s with good reason I’ve all but anointed him as my right hand. He’s without a doubt the smartest, most reliable person I’ve ever met.

So I just keep walking after him. And we only take a couple of more turns before I find myself stepping into a huge vaulted anteroom with one silent, motionless person keeping guard at each side of an enormous wooden double door. Except for the door, everything around me is white marble, the man and woman dressed in plain but rich green uniforms with long button-down coats.

I slow to a stop, my eyes snapping up to see a large stone shield hanging right above the door. It’s got the Grimm Academy crest carved into it and there’s a scroll floating below with the words “Know yourself” written on it.

It’s only then that I realize where we are and it makes my lips curl into a smile just as my friend stops to motion for me to keep following him. Of course he’d be taking me to the Library. This is Ricky we’re talking about, after all.

As soon as we approach the door, both guards move to meet us. We end up getting frisked in complete silence.

“We’re going straight to the History section,” Ricky whispers as soon as they open the door for us and we enter a huge, softly lit space with elaborately carved wooden bookshelves and a glass wall overlooking some kind of cave.

And there’s a reception to our right, with a couple of Librarians in flowy green and gold robes, chatting away in hushed voices, but Ricky doesn’t even glance in their direction. He just keeps walking as if he knows exactly where he’s going.

I catch up with him to whisper, “How do you already know this place so well?”

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