Page 100 of Break Her Heart
Halston let out a slow, twisted laugh. “Augustus really hasn’t changed. Always playing games he doesn’t finish.”
His hand reached out, fingers tightening around my arm in a grip that bruised. The moment he touched me, I grabbed hold of him and pulled. The dining hall vanished in a blink. Theair thickened with dust and parchment as the archives formed around us.
I let go.
He stumbled, disoriented—and August was already there. He plunged a stake into Halston’s chest, just shy of his heart.
August dragged him to a chair and chained him down, the metal biting into his wrists as he gasped for breath. His struggles only seemed to amuse August. Then, with a glance that promised nothing good, August reached for the table and snatched up a blade. That’s when I saw it—a pile of jagged wood slivers, an assortment of blades, and a long iron rod, its edges rough and splintered like he’d ripped apart a shelf with his bare hands to forge it. He’d been busy while I was gone.
August used the blade to cut into him—deep, precise gashes over his arms, legs, and neck. Slivers of wood followed each slice, wedged into place to stop the wounds from closing. Blood pooled beneath him.
“Augustus, what is this?” Halston winced, the sound of his strained laugh catching in his throat.
August leaned in close, wildness burning in his eyes. Anger and satisfaction twisted together on his face. “I used your methods.”
My stomach turned. Halston had been the one who tortured August while my parents were being hunted. I wanted to kill him right then—every part of me screamed for it—but we needed him alive for now.
His eyes flicked over August. A slow, twisted smile spread across his face, as if he recognized the predator before him and welcomed it. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“We’re looking for something. And you’re going to help us find it.”
“Oh, am I?” Halston trembled as he barely held his head up. “And what might that be?”
“The spelled blade used to transfer Carrow’s soul.”
Halston’s expression shifted. “I will tell you no such thing.”
August shrugged. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He moved like a shadow, smooth and silent, picking up the long iron rod from the table. Without hesitation, he plunged the tip into the cut on Halston’s thigh. The vampire screamed, arching against his restraints.
“That one was for every time you laid a hand on me,” August said quietly.
He leaned close and whispered something I couldn’t hear, then drove the rod into Halston’s abdomen. Halston howled. Benedict stood at the edge of the room, unmoving. He looked paler, as though he was forcing himself not to turn away. His hands were clenched behind his back, and his gaze didn’t quite meet mine.
August grabbed Halston’s jaw, forcing his head up. “Where is it?”
Halston’s voice was shredded with pain. “I’ll never—”
Another strike. A blade this time, dragged with exacting control across Halston’s clavicle. Blood spilled. A splatter hit the stone beside my foot.
I should have been disgusted. I should have looked away.
But I didn’t.
Watching August unravel him thread by thread was… intoxicating. This wasn’t madness. Or maybe it was—but it was beautiful. There was a darkness in him that answered the one in me, and every time I thought I’d seen the worst of it, I only found more to want.
I stepped closer, silently, my gaze tracing the curve of his mouth as he smiled, Halston’s blood smeared across his jaw and soaking his sleeves, dripping from his hands. It wasn’t just a smile—it was the expression of a predator savoring his kill whileHalston begged. Not for mercy—just for breath. Every day, I saw more of what he truly was.
And I liked it.
“It is the Blade of Aros.” Halston’s voice broke through the trance I was in.
I had heard that before. It was one of the things that led us to a dead end.
August’s gaze cut to Benedict, a silent order in his eyes. Benedict flinched and began rifling through the nearest stack of tomes with quick, deliberate movements until he found the right page. He passed it over without a word, and I stepped in beside them, leaning close enough to see.
August had been teaching me to read in the old tongue, but I was still learning. I couldn’t make out the entire passage, but I recognized two words—army and dead.
