“Who is Mero?” I whispered, still eyeing my splayed fingers.
Dublin flinched, but he’d had long enough of a reprieve from the question.
So had I.
Though perhaps we both were no match for the topic in the end. After all this time, I’d thought I’d witnessed the full spectrum when it came to the emotional range of Dublin Helos.
Anger. Guilt. Rage. Pity.
But the expression contorting his features now was unlike any I’d ever experienced. Pained.
“One might call him thefounderof the Grayne,” he rasped in a tone devoid of emotion.
Not for the first time, I truly understood the vast gap between us forged by more than mere age. Sheercenturiesof distance. He looked eons older in the space of a heartbeat. Ancient.
“I thought you said my ancestor James was the leader of the Grayne?” I remembered as much from his impromptu history lesson delivered the night before my fateful meeting with Raphael.
Though, to be fair, that was all I knew about this mysterious order that had consumed part of my family. Any attempt to pry a single bit more from Georgie had been met with deflection and stonewalling.
Until we both couldn’t take anymore.
“He was,” Dublin said. “Mero was…let us just say the catalyst to your predecessor’s sudden fervor when it came to hunting my kind. In the grand scheme, Mero knew that his human pawns would be all but useless against a foe like Raphael. You were merely a vehicle.”
“You knew him?”
“I did.” And that was that. He closed up. Turned to stone. Something told me that even bringing up our contract now wouldn’t get him to soften to me again on the subject.
So I changed tack. “How did you know? About the blood,” I clarified. It was something that had always bothered me beneath the surface. Perhaps I hadn’t admitted it to myself until now. “That I would have to…”
“You were dying,” he said simply. “You claimed that food held no appeal. In the name of saving your life, I took a risk and decided to… Let’s call it thinking outside of the box.”
“And what aboutyourblood?” I observed the bluish veins twisting beneath his skin. “You told me it wouldn’t work anymore. That it couldn’t heal me.”
Yet here we were. His blood had already saved my life ten times over since his return.
“And,” I added as something else rose to the forefront of my thoughts, “it used to overwhelm me. I would be out for days, but now…”
“There is something I need to tell you.” He turned away, staring beyond the luxurious cabin into a world I could never follow.
Biting my lip was the only way to brace myself against whatever he might reveal. But I was no match for his touch; he captured my hand, swiping his thumb across the palm. And just like that, I was disarmed.
“That day Raphael fed from you. His venom hurt you, didn’t it?” he asked without meeting my gaze. “More than as just a mild discomfort.”
“Yes…” I cringed at the memory. One bite and it had felt as though my insides were melting around me even as my heart struggled to beat. “But yours didn’t.”
“That’s because he killed you.”
I looked up in confusion, but he still faced away from me. Purposefully, I realized. Whatever tinged his gaze now, he didn’t want me to see.
“I… What do you—”
“Your heart stopped beating,” he explained, as detached as though reciting a well-known tale from heart. At the same time, his fingers tightened, holding mine firmly captive. “I heard it. I saw it. You were gone before I could even reach you. And in that moment, I had to make achoice.” His voice grated over the word, conveying more than the usual definition. Choice.Something life changing. Life altering. “You wouldn’t understand. There was no time to think. No time for hesitation. For once, I was—” He broke off and released me, but he didn’t pull away. His fingers formed an open cage, almost as if he expected me to recoil first.
For whatever reason, I forced myself to stay.
“What choice? What did you do?”
When he didn’t respond, I eyed my naked fingers, too numb to process my emotions. Was I horrified by the potential answers? Shocked?