Page 30 of A Vow of Shadow and Blood
“You have seven days to get the job done.”
“That’s impossible, there’s no way I can get into the palace in seven days and kill the prince.”
“You will not need to because he is coming here.”
“What was that all about? What did he say to you?” Tori has thrown question after question at me since Julian left, and we arrived at my room. “You can’t seriously be considering what he said?”
“Can you just give me some space?” The tightening sensation in my chest grows. All I can think about is Willow. Where are they taking her? What will he do to her? Heat prickles every inch of me, and a sheen of sweat coats my skin until I’m forced to strip off the tunic clinging to me.
There’s not enough space in here. Not enough air. In the background, Tori’s words blur together, too muffled for me to make out.
I don’t know when I sank to the floor, but I’m clutching my chest as the tightness sharpens into pain. I drag for breath, but my lungs give me nothing, no reprieve from the madnessclawing through me. I need to get out of here. I need to get some air.
I try to stand, but the room spins, sending me tumbling back down. Something soft cushions me from behind, and I allow myself to lean into it. The room becomes a blur of colors as I try to get my bearings, and the burning heat of my skin makes me want to scream.
Hot tears sting the edges of my eyes before falling in rivulets down my cheeks, the salty taste assaulting my tongue as I gasp for air. It feels like someone is standing on my chest, suffocating me with every second that passes by.I can’t breathe.
A strong pair of hands grips my shoulders, and I can hear the distant sound of a familiar voice.
Breathe, it tells me, and Gods do I try, but Willow is gone, and the last thing I can do is breathe. I can’t even think. This is all my fault. She warned me not to do anything stupid, to stay away from the vampires, but I always have to do things my way. And now she’s gone. The memory of her smile taunts me. The reminder compressing my chest and the little air I had has evaporated. I beg anyone who will listen to save me. Even the lost Gods receive a prayer from me.
“Adina.” Through the fog of my brain, I hear my name. “Adina, breathe. I’m here.”
Cora.The tears spill at the realization of her presence. Just like when I was a child and she found me screaming in my room over the voice in my head. She held me and whispered that I wasn’t crazy. She helped me to gain control of it. To hide it. She was my mother’s best friend. They worked together before my mother was selected for breeding due to the potency of her blood. Cora said I reminded her of my mother. That she was as stubborn and hardheaded as I am. I love the stories she tells me about them growing up in the orphanage together, and then both getting placements at Blackwood Bloodhouse.
It reminds me of me and Tori. A best friend who feels like a sister. I wonder sometimes whether my mother is the only reason she looks out for me. Would she have kept my secret if I were someone else?
Something cold touches my forehead, and I relax into its coolness, my back cushioned by the softness of what feels like a mattress. I try to hold tight to the voice in the distance that begs me to breathe. I drag in as much air as my lungs can hold, releasing it in a thin, controlled stream through my lips. Something I’ve practiced a thousand times.
I can usually calm myself, but this is too much. Willow is the only blood relative I have left. I know I’m privileged to even have her. Most purebloods don’t ever meet their family members, often separated based on the potency of their blood, but I know it was somehow Cora’s doing.
I blink, and Cora’s face comes into focus. I still drag in deep breaths, trying to remember that I have control.I am in control. This is my body.She hovers over me, pressing something cool against my forehead, her eyes clouded with worry. I’m finally calm enough to let my words fall out.
“He took Willow.” My voice breaks, and my body wracks with sobs I can’t control.
She encircles me with her arms, pressing my head against her chest, and I clutch onto her like she’s my lifeline.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”
I hold on tighter, knowing that if I let go, I have to face this alone. I have to acknowledge that outside of this room is the reality of my actions. My eyes flit past Cora’s shoulders, and I find Tori standing behind her, lines of worry marring her beautiful face. I can tell from the red of her eyes that she’s been crying. I shouted at her before. I need to remember to apologize. She smiles when she sees me look at her, but I’m too weak to return the gesture. She only nods, as if she understands withoutme saying a word. I let my face sink into the fabric of Cora’s gray uniform. Burying my sorrow in the folds of the cotton.
I’m not sure how long passes as we all sit in the silence of my room, me curled into Cora the way I imagine a mother would cling to her newborn—if only they were allowed that comfort before being taken away to an orphanage. But my tears have all dried up and are replaced by a raging anger that awakens Athriel from whatever depths he was hiding in, as I lost complete control.
And at that moment, I make a promise to myself. I will kill the crown prince if it’s the only way of saving Willow, but Julian will die too.
Every Blackwood pureblood stands in the room I spent most of the day cleaning yesterday, as Amabel’s guards stand watch over us. They like to act powerful here since it’s the only place they truly can. Among their own kind, they’re at the bottom of the pecking order, so I suppose this gives them the ego boost they need.
It’s been twenty minutes since we were all woken up and told to gather in the hall. Apparently, Amabel has an announcement—and I’m fairly certain I already know what it is. If Julian is right and the prince is really coming here, then it makes perfect sense why she has had us cleaning around the clock. It’s not every day a prince visits a bloodhouse. Why should he when he has his own purebloods at his beck and call? He has no use for a place like this. Good thing none of the others know about his visit yet, otherwise they would have spent the entire morninggushing over it and planning ways to get his attention. It’s no secret that nobles buy purebloods that catch their attention.
My eyes meet with Tori’s across the room, her eyes reflecting the same sadness I have in mine. I spent the entire night crying over Willow. I allowed myself one day to be sad. This morning, I woke up angry and ready to take my vengeance, and if that starts with killing the prince, then so be it.
The door to the hall opens, and Amabel walks in dressed head to toe in a dark navy dress that hugs every curve and dip of her body. Her almost black hair is slicked back in a meticulous bun that she sweeps her fingers over before her catlike eyes scan the room. When she’s satisfied that all the chairs and tables have been put back in place, ready for tonight’s service, she continues forward. Two vampires flank her from behind, keeping watch over her as though she were a precious commodity. I may hate her, but she is one of the most beautiful humans I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s no wonder Lissian is always fawning over her whenever he visits.
“Good morning, purebloods.”
“Good morning,” we all sing in unison. A rehearsed response drilled into us from the day we arrived at the bloodhouse. She weaves her way through the tables until she is standing in the center of the room as everyone watches in anticipation.
“I am not one to waste time, so I am going to keep it short. In four nights, Blackwood Bloodhouse will be hosting the crown prince along with the royal council.”
