Page 57 of Gothikana

Leaving Erica, Jax, and Ethan sitting together in the dining area, Corvina excused herself and decided to just find another place.

As she walked out of the Main Hall toward the exit, an open wooden door on iron hinges to the right caught her eye.

The Vault.

They had already opened it?

Curious and hopeful, Corvina pushed up the strap of her bag and entered through the door, coming to a wide set of stone steps that wentdown into some kind of dungeon just like the library. Silently, she descended, the natural light darkening, replaced with a muted yellow glow.

A dungeon — much smaller than the library but still very, very spacious — came into view.

The muted light came from the small chandelier hanging on the low ceiling, two solid stone pillars supporting it. There were paintings of the castle on the wall to her left and a small fireplace in the middle of the wall opposite her. A seating area was positioned in front of the fireplace with plush black and red couches and ottomans with the same lion heads on the arms as in the library, a black wooden table right in the centre of it.

But it was to her right that her eyes went.

One lone piano sat pushed against the wall with a wooden bench in front of it, the same piano she had seen in her tower. It had been moved. That’s why she couldn’t hear the music anymore.

Corvina headed toward it. She’d never seen a real one before, one that was functional anyway, and she was curious to explore it.

The piano was black but old. She imagined it must have been a beautiful polished black once, but age had weathered it a bit. The cover was down, making it appear flat since it wasn’t playing. She remembered it had been lifted on its stand when he’d been playing it that first night. The keys, though, they gleamed in the light from the chandelier.

Black and white, so silent.

Corvina extended a finger, stroking the keys, feeling its texture, spreading her hand over the wooden top, feeling the different sensations it created on her palm. Biting her lip, temptation overcoming her, she pressed one white key and the abrupt melodic sound echoed in the dungeon, leaving the silence afterward even quieter. Pulling her hand away, feeling like she was trespassing on something personal, she turned and headed for the seating area instead.

She wondered when he’d had the piano moved there, if he’d done it to keep his distance from her. She also wondered how he could’ve had the Board open the Vault when it had been kept shut tight for years. She’d come here to avoid him, she had meant to avoid him, but seeing the piano made her wonder if she should. Was this the universe telling her not to run from him? She needed a sign from the universe, just one more answer showing her some direction.

Thoughts running amok in her head, she sank down on the rich, plush cushioned seat, toeing off her boots and curling her legs by her side. The dungeon was cold, but she was grateful it was empty.

Happy enough to be alone, she tucked herself tight in one corner of the couch. Finally settled in, she brought out her old library copy ofDraculaand started reading about a devil in an old castle on a hill while sitting in one.

The music jerkedher awake.

Corvina sat up abruptly, the book on her chest falling to the ground with the motion, a crick in her neck making her groan.

She twisted her head to the side where the music was coming from and felt her breath catch in her throat.

The way she’d seen him the first time in the dark greeted her in the light. His eyes were closed, his face tilted forward, his spine curved as he played not just with his fingers but his entire being.

Vad Deverell.

The silver-eyed devil of Verenmore.

The dark god who played like it was both a blessing and a curse.

Her multi-faceted, enigmatic one-time lover who knew the secrets of her soul.

He’d found her.

Somehow, someway, after she had gone out of her way to avoid him, he had ended up in the exact same space. Their paths kept weaving together, bringing them closer to each other. If him being there in the moment wasn’t a sign from the universe right after she’d asked for an obvious one, Corvina didn’t know what it was anymore.

Picking up her book from the ground, Corvina bookmarked the page she’d fallen asleep on, and put it in her bag, fully turning to see him play.

It was something else, an experience to watch this man lose himself in the music his fingers created without even looking. He knew those blacks and whites like the back of his hand, and he existed between them as he played on, the melody less haunting, less anguishedand more soulful, more mysterious this time. The sight, the sound, the sensation did something to her.

The fact that he played it in her presence, the fact that he had taken her to his space, slept with her, had risked something when he had told her he wouldn’t, said much more than he ever could.

He was attached.

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