Page 143 of Heirs of the Cursed

Bellmare, the City of the Sea.

Darcia was intoxicated with conflicting emotions. She’d done it. She’d reached her missing sister’s home and was perhaps minutes away from meeting her. For the entire trip, all she’d done was think about her to ignore her own loss and grief.

“Well.” Alasdair set the things down next to Lykeios, who sat obediently. “I’ll see you later.”

“What?” Darcia grabbed his wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To get your sister?” he said with obviousness.

“Alone?” she asked in annoyance. Darcia crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going to stand here and do nothing. Not to mention that you were badly injured a few days ago!”

Alasdair looked at her threateningly. “Yes, you are. You’re one of the most wanted people in all of Laivalon. What part of accompanying me to Bellmare do you think is wise, consideringit’ll be crawling with soldiers ready to rip your head off?” At that, Darcia hesitated. “Exactly, none.”

“You don’t even know where to find her.”

“According to your stepbrother, she’s a hetaira. Here, in Bellmare, there’s only one brothel that is well known: Madame Dimond’s,” he revealed. As he noticed Darcia staring at him in disbelief, Alasdair added, “Don’t ask how I know that.”

She didn’t.

Instead, she asked, “Don’t you think it will be traumatic enough for her to learn the whole truth without having the Midnight Thief be the one to tell her?”

“Gorgeous, don’t argue with me. You want your sister and I want to keep my head where it is.” He took a step toward her. “And nothing assures us that you’ll make it out of Bellmare alive.”

Darcia looked at the animal next to her. “I have a wolf.”

Lykeios tilted his head before lying on the cold, hard ground. Like his traveling companion, the wolf didn’t seem to agree with her. Alasdair grinned before fastening the cloth back over his face.

“I promise I’ll bring your sister back safe and sound,” he vowed, an unrelenting assurance shining in his eyes. “And then, we’ll decide our next step.”

“That’s not the only thing I’m worried about,” she muttered.

Alasdair cocked his head slightly. “Are you admitting that you care about me, gorgeous?”

“You can leave now,” Darcia said, sitting above the bag. “And I expect you to keep your word if you value your balls.”

“I think that’s the threat I’ve feared most in my entire life,” he said, laughing.

“Very funny.”

He blew her a kiss in the air before disappearing among the shadow’s of the night. He moved gracefully through the trees, swift and undetectable, until Darcia could no longer see him.

A leaden weight settled in her chest and churned her stomach. She could wait, she was good at it. She’d stood still her entire life, waiting for freedom . . . Waiting one more time should be easy enough.

So she did it.

Patiently, Darcia waited for his return.

Darcia woke, sore, beneath the thick mist that descended on the forest like a blanket of bad omens and hidden secrets. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but Lykeios had allowed her to rest against his body while he kept watch, his eyes fixed on Bellmare and his claws digging into the ground.

She stroked Lykeios before crouching down next to the bushes.

Her attention returned to the nearby city. There was something extremely strange apart from the silence. There were no voices, no celebrations; nothing that indicated it was the last night of the year. And all Laivalon was celebrating, so why wasn’t Bellmare?

Darcia’s hands began to tremble. Her power was awakening again.

She closed her eyes, immersing herself in the darkness that unfolded in front of her. Aware of the shadows that loomed like ethereal tentacles, Darcia struggled to calm herself as they enveloped her in a silent embrace and melted into her essence.

Darcia brought a hand to her chest, feeling the borealis gemstone between her collarbones glow uncontrollably. Her fingertips burned at the touch, urging her to move.

---