Page 12 of Midwinter Night's Prince

Blair would have given a lot for a long, hard session with a punching bag—or better yet, a tussle with decent sparring partner. Yet another thing she’d had to give up because of the asshole who didn’t have the decency to answer her entirely reasonable questions.

Don't ask questions you don't want answered.

"Condescending prick!" Blair wasn't about to address the fact that she'd taken to speaking to herself, in the absence of fellow students.

Or maybe she was talking to Velvet, though the cat was thoroughly ignoring her, occupied with cleaning his hind legs.

She'd always been a social butterfly. She wasn't uncomfortable in her own company for a time, but Blair thrived in large groups. The last few months had been trying in more ways than one. One of the coping mechanisms she’d developed was holding one-sided conversations with her cat.

There were worse paths to insanity.

Seth was sorely mistaken if he believed she was letting the subject drop on his say-so. She wasn't curious for the sake of it; she needed answers for her survival. Besides, she couldn’t think of one rational reason why the man was being so secretive about his origins. Most sups had the courtesy to announce what they were when they introduced themselves—though some of them could sense, or at least smell each other’s nature. She could only conclude that Seth was being willfully obtuse for the sake of it.

The bastard might have had a point to some extent; he didn't want to catch her, or see her come to harm. Her being found went directly against his self-interest. If she was taken to Aveka, the witch would be able to truly control him. That didn't change the fact that hehadbeen dispatched to capture her. He might be able to wiggle out of most of his mistress's orders for now, but eventually, Aveka might manage to tighten her hold on him. If Blair was to survive, she needed defenses. More than the blade at her hip. What if it was taken from her? What if he caught her without it? She felt better now that she had something on her side, of course, but simply couldn't risk relying on one weapon. Not againsthim.

Blair picked up the dagger again, absentmindedly twirling it between her fingers like it was a pen. As far as weapons went, it was unique—elegantly carved, sturdy but also lighter than it looked, and well balanced. She paused her movement to inspect it again. Her eyes followed the length of the blade before focusing on the carved hilt.

So many symbols.A snake. A crown. A scythe. A horn? No, there was a sphere inside it. Perhaps a cornucopia filled with apples then. A tree of some variety. Was it the tree of life? A cross. Arrows. An acorn…

Blair endeavored to think critically, like she would have if Fin Varra had handed her this weapon and told her to write a paper on it. Inscriptions could be entirely decorative, especially nowadays, but this weapon was woven with ancient spells. She doubted any of the markings were random. Perhaps she already had the means to learn about his weaknesses. There must be a reason why this blade was capable of hurting Seth. Blair raised the blade to eye level, focusing on the shapes etched in the wood. She examined each inch, making a mental note of everything, and of what it evoked to her.

Death, by the look of the scythe; cunning, from the snake. Olive leaves made her think of friendship, peace. And the acorn? That stood for fertility, life, or even immortality, depending on the custom.

Death and life, peace and violence, cunning and friendship.

She sighed, setting the weapon aside again.

"Useless," Blair muttered.

Velvet meowed his agreement.

If she’d known that Seth would be so difficult, she would have been sneakier in her probing. She could have asked about the metal. Iron hurt the folk, and silver, the beasts. What was this blade made of, and why did it slice Seth's flesh like a hot knife through butter?

Frustrated, she threw her head back against her hard, lumpy mattress. This was going nowhere.

Velvet wasted no time to get to his paws and leap on her tummy. He kneaded her flab appreciatively.

"I know. I need to get back to training, STAT." Gone was her hard-earned, smooth six pack. These days, she was softer and weaker, partially because she wasn’t sparring daily, but also because of her diet. She ate what she could when she could, and it was rarely wholesome food.

This time, Blairinterpreted her kitten's high-pitched response as a disagreement. He liked her soft and comfortable to sit on. Once she was tenderized to his satisfaction, he plopped down on her stomach, purring softly.

Knowing she couldn't hope to move for the foreseeable future, Blair seized the blade again to return to her observation. As it caught the dawning light through the small window above her bed, Blair thought she saw something, a slight change. She held it up again, eyes on the blade.

Right at its base, close to the hilt, a sign that hadn't been there moment ago could be seen, bright and red as blood.

She sat up, as much as Velvet's position on her tummy allowed, to look at it closer. There was no mistaking it: someone had carved an omega inlightink.

That specific sign was used widely, by so many clans. She knew many witches who considered it their signature. Omega meant the last, the ending.

"Ominous, much?"

She ran through possibilities. Shifters considered omegas the peacekeepers of their world. Alphas led, Betas cared, and the Omegas made sure everyone kept their shit together. But Seth wasn't a shifter. He was a demigod.

Did she know of any pantheons that used that symbol? Not off the top of her head, but she'd look into it. If only she could call Professor Varra; he'd have the answer at the ready. And probably give it to her in incomprehensible riddles, but that was beside the point.

Blair didn't like to use her prepaid phone more than necessary, but this was something important, she could tell. She fired up the internet browser, wincing at the time it took for the search engine to load.

“The Enlightened” was a broad term for many races of aliens who'd come to Earth long ago in various ships. Each of those transports had brought a different community, and they'd remained separate, founding the various myths and legends humans had worshipped over the centuries. Was there an omega ship? Where would she even start to research anything like it? The sups might have announced their existence to humanity a few decades ago, but the Enlightened still kept to themselves, barely even visiting Earth.

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