Page 11 of A Dawn Of Blood

I let him go and step away to stare at him some more. He grabs Raven’s waist and presses her close to himself as he happily glances between me and Lorcan.

“Anna, Professor MacArthur,” he starts. “In the name of the Holy Blood, what took you so long?”

I frown, albeit without wiping the grin off my face. “What the hell are you talking about? And where is Jaeger?”

He laughs and presses a kiss on Raven’s cheek. Then he motions for us to follow. “Come on, there will be plenty of time for questions.” He pauses for a second, this mischievous spark in his eyes. “Right now, I’m taking you all to meet the Resistance.”

Chapter 8

It feels so utterly surreal, to have my eyes on Alaric’s back after a year of thinking I’ll never get to see him again. I’m barely registering the hallway he’s leading us down, Lorcan walking to my right, Raven whispering stuff to her boyfriend.

Then the initial shock wears off a little and I find myself being able to feel something other than happiness about my friend being alive and well.

It’s then that all the stuff that’s been fighting for my attention starts succeeding in getting through to me as well.

All the graffiti on the walls around me.

The feeling of the place truly being deserted.

The fact that my friend is wearing the enemy’s uniform.

I believe him, when he says there’s a Resistance. If he’s joined them, I also believe it’s Baldur’s fall they’re fighting for.

And I need to join them, that’s for sure and certain, but the whole thing is making me a little hesitant.

These are people I don’t know, with dynamics I’m not familiar with.

It doesn’t surprise me, when Alaric takes us down the gallery stairs and straight for the Main Hall. I’ve read somewhere that it’s the most protected room in the entire castle.

When we step inside, it’s a cozy fire that greets us, casting warm light all over a low wooden table, the six faded yet colorful armchairs around it, and the men sitting in two of them.

I note that they’re both wearing uniforms the kinds of which I’ve never seen before — light gray with lots of pockets, the only adornment being the small flame sewn into the top right pocket.

That’s all they seem to have in common though.

One is a short, lanky, dark-haired shifter in his early twenties and the other a tall, toned, blond fae in his mid-thirties, but that’s not where the differences end.

While the shifter is watching us approach with excitement he seems to be working hard to suppress, the fae is all but throwing daggers at us.

“Raven, Anna, Professor MacArthur,” Alaric addresses us as soon as we slow to a stop in front of the duo. Motioning at the shifter, he says, “this is Finn.”

Fixing his eyes on me, Finn opens his mouth, then promptly shuts it, his face flushing in embarrassment.

“It’s nice to meet you, Finn,” I offer.

He just swallows and looks away.

Hoping for an explanation, I glance at Alaric, only to see him suppress a chuckle, shake his head then motion at the fae. “And this is Dryden.”

It’s with a smile that I turn to lock eyes with him. His ice-blue eyes are just as beautiful as the rest of him — the wavy hair, the straight nose, the delicately shaped lips, but it’s in hostility that they’re narrowing at me.

My eyebrows shoot up.

“Um, well,” Alaric says awkwardly as he turns back to me, “I’ve alerted everyone of your presence here, the rest of the team should be here shortly.”

He takes his seat, signaling to us to grab more chairs from the row lining the wall to our left. We do, Dryden watching me closely.

Choosing to ignore this for the time being, I just squeeze my chair into the circle around the table and take a seat. I wait for Lorcan and Raven to get settled in as well, but as soon as they do, I jump straight to the point. “How are you here, Alaric?”

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