Page 56 of Promised in Blood

I check my watch. It was a full moon last night, and the wolves will all be sleeping off their hunt. I cannot imagine they were happy about being called to a faculty meeting on a Sunday morning, and most of them will no doubt miss it. However, having Osiris’s counterparts there is imperative. “There is not much time to spare. Can you round up the Crescent leaders and have them meet us in the history building before the faculty meeting begins?”

He nods. “Wish me luck.”

With a brief goodbye to everyone in the room, Osiris leaves, and I direct all my attention to Enora. She tilts her chin defiantly, aware of the information I require. The information I have been gracious enough to allow her to keep to herself for too long already.

“Who is the witch you are keeping secrets for?”

Her brows knit in a frown, and she makes a good show of pretending she has no idea what I am referring to, but she cannot fool me for a second.

I breathe deep, channeling calmness. My patience is never so close to snapping as when matters of Ophelia’s safety are concerned. “Do not toy with me. Who is the witch that asked you to keep a watchful eye on Ophelia?”

Her slender throat convulses. “I cannot say.”

Ophelia takes a step forward and stands beside me, but her gaze is focused on Enora. “Someone asked you to keep an eye on me?”

Enora ignores the question and instead glares at me.

“A witch is dead, Enora. Someone clearly tried to frame me for the crime. Now is not the time for secrecy.” The irony of that statement is not lost on me, but now is also not the time for self-reflection.

Her jaw tics. “I am unable to tell you. I wish that I could, but I cannot.”

I take a step forward, and she flinches. “Has time softened your memories of me, witch? If you refuse to disclose their identity, Iwillbite you and discover that truth for myself.”

“It is forbidden to bite a faculty member without their consent.”

“As forbidden as it is to use dark magic from theBook of Skoteiní Xórkia? I think we are all aware that following the rules of this institution is no longer my priority.”

She takes a step back, eyeing me warily, as she should. “If I allow you to bite me, then I would be breaking my oath, Alexandros. Besides, it would take you years to search my memories.”

I suspect that was true as recently as three weeks ago, but not any longer. Not since Ophelia Hart snaked her way into every fiber of my being and somehow magnified my power with her own. “I am willing to test that theory.”

Before she can blink, my hand is on the back of her neck, fisting in her hair. I drag her to me, pressing her slight body against mine, and sink my teeth into the soft flesh of her throat. Her lifeblood flows over my tongue. Ophelia’s shock followed by a pang of jealousy spiking in her chest are the first sensations to hit me, and I take a second to remind her that I take no pleasure in biting anyone but her, even if I am about to make this entire experience much more pleasurable for Enora.

She struggles, muttering a spell that almost wrenches my teeth from her neck, but I hold fast, searching her memories as I deepen my bite. Finally, her body complies even if her mind does not. She goes limp in my arms, but she chants another spell, and I am forced to hold her tighter as I resist the external forces of the incantation that try to pull me from her.

The quicker you allow me to get what I want, the sooner this will be over, filis mous,I remind her.

“I cannot allow you access to those memories,” she rasps. “I swore an oath.”

You simply have to stop fighting me. I will find them myself, and then this will be less painful for all of us.

“But you cannot find them. It will take too long.” A tear rolls down her cheek.

As if they are stills from a movie, I easily comb through her memories, flicking through them at lightning speed. Andalthough her mind is as strong as it always was, it takes me but a few moments to find the memory I am searching for.

I stop feeding and take a step back. Enora blinks at me, her body seemingly frozen to the spot.

“Nazeel Danraath.” A sliver of fear snakes its way through the anger inside my chest. Never would I have expected her name to be the one I found inside Enora’s memories. What was Nazeel’s motive?

“Y-you found it. But how?” Blood trickles from the wound in her neck, which I did not take the time to heal. She mutters a spell, and the torn flesh begins knitting back together.

I have no desire to explain the rapid increase in my powers. “Why is a member of the Order asking you to keep a watchful eye on Ophelia?”

Ophelia gasps. “Like the Order of Azezal? That Order?”

Pride swells within me, and I suppress my smile. She is learning so fast, but I never should have expected anything less from my curious scholar.

Not now, little one.

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