Page 91 of Drawn in Blood
“Our ancestors held court here hundreds of years ago,” Helvig continued, motioning to the throne, “though these days this room is mostly used for parties.” He chuckled to himself like he had just told a very funny joke.
Ember couldn’t wrap her mind around it—the idea that places like this still existed. Kings and courts and grand ballrooms—it all felt so foreign, so fairytale. The pictures on the wall caught her eye, and Helvig caught her staring.
“Go take a closer look.” He nudged her toward the wall. “I have to go check in with Collum for a moment.”
Helvig stalked away in search of the lieutenant, and Ember walked over to the paintings, studying them. Merrow warriors under the boots of Vikings, Elves being run through with arrows, a Fae princeling begging for his life at the foot of a decorated general.
Ember’s stomach turned. This was her family’s history, her legacy. This was who she was by blood, and that thought horrified her.
The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.
That was what Killian had told her, but was he right? Was it really that simple? How could she be good when she came from a bloodline filled with this much hate? Centuries of it, rippling in her veins and tainting who she was at her core.
“There is a prophecy that a descendant of the First Families, a Vala born of both dark and light, will rise to power, developing the ability to have dominion over all magical beings. They will be the downfall of the rest of magical civilizations. Should this legend come true in any capacity, it will devastate and destroy entire races.”
Suddenly, the prophecy made so much more sense—maybe this was what she was destined for. Maybe there was nothing she could do to stop it.
I am destined for darkness.
The invisible cord at her sternum thrummed, and she sucked in a breath, her heart leaping into her throat. It had been almost three months since she had felt the pull, and she was almost scared to know what it meant.
“Malcom, welcome!” Helvig boomed from across the room. “And I see you brought your nephew with you. It’s about time Magnus came to his senses.” Laughter echoed through the hall, and Ember narrowed her eyes. Whoever Helvig was talking to was obscured behind the Jarl’s burly frame.
Malcom… Magnus…
Why did that sound so familiar? She racked her brain, trying to place the names, when the cord at her sternum tightened again, almost pulling Ember forward on its own. Two things happened at the same time, and Ember felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest. As Helvig stepped to the side, turning to call her over, he revealed the man beside him, and she suddenly remembered where she had heard those names. A burly man in a dark suit stood beside Helvig, and beside him was a boy with platinum hair and smoke in his eyes.
Killian.
Chapter 30
In the Belly of the Castle
Ember barely registered that she had crossed the room until she was in front of him. His eyes were wide, jaw slack, and all the color had drained from his face, like he was staring at her ghost. In some ways, she felt like he was.
“You’re here,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off him. The bags under his eyes were prominent against his alabaster skin, and Ember wondered when the last time he had slept was. He snapped his mouth shut, jaw tensing as his throat bobbed, eyes flashing amber, but he didn’t look away.
“Oh, that’s right.” Helvig smiled. “I forgot you knew Killian. Why don’t you two get reacquainted while I have a word with Mr. Vargr?”
Ember nodded, and the two men walked away. She pulled Killian to the opposite end of the room, gripping his wrist like it was a lifeline. He suddenly seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in and grabbed her shoulder, whirling her around, and wrapped her in the tightest hug she had ever felt.
“Thank the gods,” he mumbled into her hair. His chest shook as he took a breath. “We couldn’t get any Helios to go through.”
Ember pulled away and gave a nod as she bit her lip. “The wards are too strong, and my phone is broken so I’ve had no wayto get ahold of anyone.” Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the fire in his swirled. “I never thought I would see you again.” She blinked as she took in his finely pressed shirt and dress pants and furrowed her brow. “What are you doing here?”
Killian ran a hand down his face as he blew out a breath. “The day after break, I felt like the bond had been severed, like there was a cavern in my chest.” He gripped his shirt, knuckles turning white. “I thought it was just me until I talked to Fen, and he felt it too. We went to look for you at the manor, and Maize told us you had left, and he handed Maia over to Fen.”
Ember let out a breath—she had been so worried about Maia and was so relieved that she was safe at the Kitts’.
“I overheard my da’ and uncle talking a few nights ago, something about a girl at the castle. It sounded odd, and I thought they were talking about some clients in Scotland, but something just didn’t sit right with me.”
Ember’s heart sank—his dad and uncle had been talking about her? How did they know?
You are playing a very dangerous game without so much as a glimpse into the rule book.
That was what Magnus Vargr had spat at her when she had barreled into him in the streets of Sigurvik. It felt like another lifetime.
“My father has made a big deal about trying to get me into the family business,” Killian continued, keeping his voice low, “so I started showing interest. Going to meetings, meeting with clients, even sucking up to Veda and Oryn.” He made a face like even the idea made him nauseous. “I eventually convinced my uncle I was trustworthy, and he decided to bring me to meet with a veryimportantclient this weekend. I didn’t know if you’d be here, but it was the only lead we had.”
