Page 96 of Our Sins in Blood (Coven of Sin 1)

“I don’t remember,” he admitted on a pained sigh. “Sterling is a nickname that your father gave me.”

He paused, a beat of silence pulsating between us, but it wasn’t awkward this time. I understood it was hard for him to come out of his shell when he’d probably spent countless years being reclusive. With each breath he took, I could feel the muscles in his body unwind. I felt giddy, knowing he was about to share something with me that he hadn’t trusted anyone else with. On the flip side of that, I couldn’t seem to tramp down on my rioting nerves, knowing full well the story he was about to tell would be a sad one.

“I was a monk a thousand years ago in England. I was devoted to the Lord, living a simple life in a monastery. There was another monk, a mad fellow who disappeared for long bouts of time, doing missionary work. Or so he claimed. I discovered later he was a monster hunter. Well, he came back after some months away, in pieces.”

“In pieces?” I swallowed.

“Indeed. Stuffed in a bloody potato sack tossed over Thomas Knight’s shoulder. That was the first time I ever laid eyes on the former king.”

“I remember so little from back then, but I will never forget how the hairs on the back of my neck stood up when I laid eyes on the dark-haired devil, wearing a manic grin painted in blood. That sight alone made a few of the monks piss themselves, and those who hadn’t wetted themselves followed suit with those who had when he introduced himself as Satan.”

My stomach cartwheeled, and my body went ice cold in Sterling’s arms. For the past three days, the other princes had laid out clues as to just how horrible the old vampire king had been. But no one had provided exact details.

The depths of my father’s cruelty had been left to my own imagination. I hadn’t let myself dwell on it too much. But now, I had a feeling I was about to discover just how evil Thomas Knight had been. As much as I wanted to stay in the fantasy world where my dad had been a halfway decent guy, that ship had left the port.

At this rate, the only solace in my blossoming hatred for my dad was that maybe it could bring Sterling and me closer together.

“Go on,” I urged on a waif-thin whisper, searching his haunted expression. “I’m listening.”

Sterling gave me a solemn nod. “Well, suffice to say, the vampire king wasn’t happy about the loss of his mate at the hands of the now-deceased monk. I still remember the look in Thomas Knight’s eye. He was grinning, but it was a mask. Beneath his blood-crusted mania, I could see his anguish. He was completely crushed. For all I know, maybe he had been a good man before he lost his mate, a man capable of love. And when she was murdered, perhaps that was when he’d become a monster.”

“What happened next?” I asked, feeling like a little kid, listening to a bedtime story, a fucked-up bedtime story where the villain was my own father.

“He ordered every monk to swear their fealty to the devil and said that if they did, he’d give each a great gift.”

“Let me guess. Those who did he turned, and those who remained faithful, he killed.”

Sterling gave me a morose smile. “If only. Every single monk fell to their knees, pledging their allegiance to him, the devil. Only one was fool enough to refuse to forsake the Lord. To this day, I regret it.”

A fist of dread squeezed my heart, causing me to shudder. “What was the gift he gave to those who pledged themselves?”

“Death,” Sterling murmured coolly, his gaze sliding past me to the moon outside that he couldn’t see. “The great gift was that they got to meet their Lord. I watched as he slew my friends one by one. But he made it quick for them. I wasn’t given such mercy. Maybe the devil would have changed his mind if I hadn’t provoked him.”

“What did you say?”

Against all odds, the prince let out a dry laugh, almost as if he found it funny. “The stupidest thing I could have. I told him that I wasn’t afraid of him and that he could do his worst because, in the end, the last thing I would see would be the face of my Lord and Savior.”

“That’s when he blinded you.”

Sterling chewed his lip, appearing steeped in thought. “Your father always had a sick sense of humor. He bit me, then forced me to drink his blood. I got so sick… I was lying on the floor of the monastery’s chapel, too weak to move, surrounded by the bodies of the monks with the crucifix looming over me and my new master’s arms wrapped around me like a cage. It was utter hell, but when I came to, I felt…fantastic. Like I’d never been sick. I could practically smell colors. And the things I couldsee. For those first waking moments, I thought I had died and gone to Heaven. But then I noticed your father, standing over me with a spoon in hand.”

“A spoon?”

“Silver, from the monastery’s storage.”

My jaw fell open, and horror filled my lungs like concrete, making it hard to breathe. “He blinded you with a silver spoon?”

Sterling’s arms dropped from my waist, leaving me even colder than before. He closed his eyes, and for a second, I wasn’t sure what he was doing. Then I realized he was showing me his eyelids. The scars were so faint, I hadn’t noticed them before. But now, I could make out the curved scars of where a spoon had been pushed into either eye.

“After he blinded me, he locked me in the cellar. Left me there for… I lost count. Years, probably. Maybe even decades. I drank the monastery’s wine stores, and when that ran out, I lived off rats. The cellar was opened by humans years later who discovered me.”

“Who were they?”

Sterling’s brows knitted together, an expression so sad, I felt his agony deep in the marrow of my bones. “I didn’t ask before I slew them all. I was so hungry, and I didn’t understand what I was, what I had become. But I felt thispull—a youngblood’s link to their master. I followed it, all the way across the country, to find the King of Vampires. I was delirious with terror and bloodlust. When I finally found him, there were so many things I wanted to say to him, and yet, the first thing out of my mouth was to ask him if he remembered my name. But he hardly recognized me. In fact, all he remembered about our encounter was the sterling spoon.”

“That’s how you got your name,” I muttered, barely able to move or say anything more. I was horrified beyond belief. I felt horrible for Sterling.

The story on how he’d gotten his nickname had to be a drop in a bucket of fucked-up memories he had of my dad. The worst thing I was feeling, though, wasguilt. Which didn’t make any damn sense.Iwasn’t the one who’d shoved a silver spoon in the vampire’s eyes. I hadn’t tossed him in that cellar and left him to survive off rats like an animal.

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