Page 75 of A Throne of Blood & Vengeance

“You saidthey.” Aniela narrowed her eyes. “Are you not including yourself in the House bloodlines?”

I pursed my lips as I thought about what to say. We needed allies to defeat Carmilla, and the more information they had, the better prepared they would be. But I was still coming to terms with the fact that I was half Fae . . . and that the crown was my birthright.

Everything was far more broken between the Houses than I had thought. They wouldn’t be happy to learn that the crownthat could steal their will and control their minds wanted to be united with me. I had no intention of ruling over everyone, but they would never believe that—I certainly wouldn’t trust any of them with that kind of power.

“Your father had Fae blood, didn’t he?” Petra’s sharp eyes studied my face.

I barely managed to stifle the startled motion at the question. It felt like my heartbeat plunged for a few seconds before beating rapidly.

Petra and her twin sister were the same generation as me but older by several decades. They’d served Dominique’s parents before they’d been killed.

Oh, shit. Did Dominique know her father hadn’t been killed in that attack? That he’d actually been taken prisoner and Velika had experimented on him with the crown? That she’d been trying to figure out how to use it on House bloodlines?

According to Draven, she’d never truly been successful, but she had broken him down enough that he’d turned Strigoi and had been well and truly mad by that point.

Draven had killed him as a mercy.

I decided to not volunteer that information for now. Nothing could change the past, and it was irrelevant to our current situation. Still, I’d have to monitor for any signs that they knew and make sure Draven hadn’t been responsible for the former Salvatore Head’s imprisonment and torture.

It would be unfortunate to have to kill Dominique and Aniela—and probably their Marshals—over a pointless attempt at vengeance, but I’d do it. Nobody fucked with what was mine.

And Draven was absolutelymine.

I tucked away that thought as something to deal with later—or maybe I’d just take the truth of what happened to the grave—and pondered how to answer the question of my lineage. Maybe it was time for the truth, even if that was an odd sentiment in ourculture. If the Moroi Houses were going to survive long-term, we’d need to start trusting each other a little more. With some things anyway.

“My father was half Fae.” I left out the royalty part because I wasn’t ready to share that just yet; plus, I wanted to have more information. All I had was the claim of a sentient crown. “I only learned this recently.” I narrowed my gaze at Petra. “What made you suspect he had Fae blood?”

The corners of her lips tilted up ever so slightly. It was the closest I’d ever seen her come to a true smile and not just a baring of teeth.

“He saved me once. I was traveling alone and had been injured thanks to a run-in with a large howler pack. My blood drew the attention of some kusu, and I thought I was done for.” She grimaced. “Damn near lost my leg when one of them got me with their pincers. Before they could finish me off, roots shot out of the ground and tore the kusu apart.”

Note to self, definitely prioritize learning magic. I loved my blood daggers, but being able to summon roots out of the ground to, at the very least, hold monsters at bay would come in handy.

“You never told me that.” Aniela looked at her Marshal. There wasn’t anger or reprisal in her eyes—she looked more curious than anything.

Petra’s shoulders rose in what I was pretty sure was the smallest shrug I’d ever seen. “When I asked him about it, he said I was delirious and seeing things.” A faint smile stretched across her lips for a second. “I was bleeding heavily from head trauma, and my right leg had been holding on by a few shredded tendons, so I wasn’t in any shape to argue, and I never mentioned it because I had no proof. Plus, he saved my life that day, and it seemed in poor form to go spreading rumors about him.”

“Fair.” Aniela nodded and turned her attention back to me. “So you also have Fae blood, and you think this protects you from the effects of the crown?”

“It is my father’s bloodline that protects me, yes,” I answered. It was the truth—in a sleight of hand kind of way. It wasn’t just that my father was Fae; it was that he belonged to the Seelie royal bloodline that was responsible for the creation of the crown in the first place.

At least according to the smart-ass Fae artifact. The wraith I’d spoken with seemed to back that up. Still . . . it’d be nice to get my hands on some unbiased information to shed light on all of this.

Aniela glanced at the door before her eyes flicked back to me. “How do we break the control Carmilla has over Dominique?”

“It’s hard to say,” Draven answered. “My mother only had one half of the crown. Typically, she had to renew her hold on someone at least once a month, sometimes sooner if they were particularly strong of will. With both halves of the crown united, I imagine it will last longer.”

“We could ask it . . . the crown, I mean,” I said in an even tone, like it wasn’t crazy to suggest talking to an inanimate object.

“Come again?” Aniela arched an eyebrow.

“Phrasing,” Kieran muttered under his breath, earning himself a glare from Alaric.

“The crown is sentient,” I explained. “It spoke in my mind while I was being held captive at the Sovereign House.”

“You’re saying the Fae created a crown capable of stealing someone’s will . . . and gave it a mind of its own?” Aniela stared at me wide-eyed. “Are you fucking shitting me right now? How is that even possible?”

“Like with most things that involve the Fae”—I rubbed my forehead—“I have no idea, but it definitely talked to me, and it has quite the personality.”

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