Page 181 of Ink Deep Devotion

That’s not right.

Slowly, I accept the bottle.“Don’t you mean my nightmares?” I hug the bottle to my chest.

Camilla blinks and stands.“It’s all the same,“ she whispers.“It will stop.”

I edge back, but my sheets are so wet that they stick to me, making my bed feel like a fisherman’s net.“It’s time to wake up. Let’s have breakfast first, then we need to talk.”

Why does that sound like my death sentence?

“Is everything okay?”Are my inners going to be the breakfast because this bitch is crazy enough to eat me?

“You tell me?” Camilla hesitates at the door as she looks back at me,“You’re the one with the nightmares.”

“I…” what do I say?

Suddenly, she giggles, and my heart skips a beat.“Come on, nothing is worse than cold toast.”

???

The toast sits on my plate untouched.“Eat. It will settle your stomach.” Camilla pours two cups of coffee and joins me at the table. This manner has a large dining room, but each morning, Camilla eats in the kitchen; others join her, and some sit on the counter trying to be in her presence. I noticed her tactic the first moment she did it. The dining room is cold and sterile, formal. A kitchen is welcoming and deceptive. She wants them to think she is relatable and not the queen of the manner sitting at the head of the table.

I force myself to pick up the toast. The butter melts into my fingers as I nibble off one tiny piece.“It’s time to collect, Mila. I need your help.” Camilla sits down, hugging the coffee cup tight as she steals its warmth.

Dread coats my nerves like slick oil bubbling free from the deep ocean. My vision turns black and white, shiny and slippery.Glancing down at the table, the butter knife is my only weapon. A French chef might be able to kill with butter, but I can’t.

“I need my linchpin, Mila.” Camilla takes a sip of coffee; the movement looks so regal. Even in the early morning, her red lipstick is perfectly applied.“The council is gone. The rulers are struggling to maintain order. Soon, it will fall. Without him, they will all be clueless. The Rites of Passage will be no more; everything he has worked for will be gone.”

Titan, Damian, Nova, and Dash all flash in my mind. Have I been here too long? She said they are struggling.

Maybe if I had left sooner, I could have prevented what’s happened, but I still feel like Camilla hasn’t told me anything. I know her plan, but her final target is a secret.

She sets the coffee down. Her sly hands take out her phone, which she slides across the table like an offering of bread. The gesture makes me feel like I should take it, like it’s a gift. My eyes water with tears as I look at the picture on the screen.“Damian?” I whisper. He’s on the screen, leaning against a counter, holding a cup of coffee. He’s saved, alive, and happy.

“He’s the man you loved?” My eyebrows shoot up to the heavens. My mouth is hanging open so wide it hits the table.

“Not him.” Camilla sneers for the first time, making me feel like an idiot.

Good. He’s safe.Wait, that’s a naïve thought. No one is safe while Camilla still breathes.

Years of ballet taught me how to mask my pain and shock. At the end of our performance, all I wanted to do was hunch over and catch my breath, but I had to remain standing tall, smiling, and fooling the audience. I do that now.

“What do you need me to do?”

“I need to know everything you know about Damian.” She nods towards a guard; he comes forward with a notebook and pen.“Just write down every detail, even if you think it doesn’t matter. Everything, Mila. I need to know how he thinks, what he likes, where he goes.” She stresses the last.

Good. That means she doesn’t have him.

“I didn’t know Damian that well.”

“He drove you to that art gallery. Hours spent in a car must have sparked some conversations.” Camilla responds slowly, watching and waiting to see if I’m lying.

How does she know that?

Those conversations start to play in my head. What did he tell me?

“Did he tell you where he would live after he graduated? What were his aspirations?” She reaches up, touching the side of her lip, ensuring no lipstick has smeared.“He must have told you something.”

In fact, he did. Damian said he would go to Aspen to take over King Corporation’s weapons manufacturing. It was his duty, he said. Maybe that has changed since The Rites of Passage got involved.

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