Page 11 of Darkest Heart

Zach sucked air between his teeth. “Regardless, we need to find more information.”

She groaned. “I hope you’re not suggesting…”

“It’ll be fine,” he promised.

I looked at them both. “Anyone want to loop me in?”

Erianna surrendered. “We need to speak with Salvor.”

The name was familiar to me from passing. I assumed he was dangerous. No one made a name for themselves here by being good. “I trust you, but are you sure this is the right move?”

“It’s our best chance at finding her alive,” he said, confirming my beliefs. In the time I’d known them, neither had even been wrong in matters of strategy and battle. “I would have liked to talk to Niall about where he got his information, but I see he escaped before I landed.”

Erianna nodded. “He’s a coward.”

Zach shrugged. “It’s okay. I don’t want to deal with another argument over my supposed fraternizing with mortals, anyway.”

She laughed. “His prejudice is amusing considering how many of them Niall sleeps with.”

Zach nodded. “Love and sex are two very different things for him. He hates that I’m in love with one.”

I walked into the bustling foyer between them. “Speaking of. Where is Anna?”

“At a safe house, with Millie and George.”

“Ah.” I remembered the two elderly vampires, with kind hearts for such dark creatures. “Anyway, thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

He turned on his heel, before we entered the throne room. Sargon would be waiting for us, along with Olivia’s mom. They wanted to come too, although I thought it was a terrible idea to leave Kalon in charge. Nevertheless, the more help to bring Olivia home, the better. I wasn’t about to refuse anything if it meant her safety. Even if Sanmorte fell to Kalon for good. We all knew the king’s brother had been eyeing the crown for most of his life.

Zach placed his hands on my shoulders, looking me dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry, brother. We will find her. They won’t kill her. They need her.” He squeezed my arm, the small gesture tearing open the wound I’d spent the last week carefully tending. “She won’t die.”

Die.

I couldn’t let the thought that she might die come into my mind.

I nodded, holding my breath. “I need to get something. I’ll meet you both in there,” I said, desperately clawing for any excuse to get the fuck out of there. My heart pounded, and I didn’t look back at either of them to see if they noticed.

My wings sprung out, and I kicked off from the ground, the air whooshing in my ears as I flapped, anxiety driving every movement until I made it to our room.

I barely closed the door behind me, heading for the bathroom. Leaning over the vanity, I looked at the mirror, my breath catching. The silk from her sleep mask grazed my fingertips, and I crumpled it in my fist.

I screamed under my breath, digging my fingers against the cold granite. My heart stammered as I remembered the terror slicing through my soul earlier that day. Olivia was alive, but she was terrified. If I stopped for a minute to catch my breath, the thoughts of what they may do to her flooded my mind. The unimaginable tortures I’d witnessed in the city came back. Every sordid detail I’d heard about how the aniccipere hurt their victims taunted me. They were stories I’d once shrugged off, because they weren’t happening to me. But now they were a reality, not something that happened to unfortunate mortals. It was happening to my love.

My wife.

The words pulled at my heart, forcing tears into my bloodshot eyes. Nausea stole the little appetite I had as I thought about losing her forever.

It shouldn’t have been like this. I’d wanted to take her away, somewhere where we could be ourselves without royal duties or anything interfering. Before we could enjoy our time together, married, she was gone.

In the end, it was the small things I missed the most. Just holding her close on lazy mornings, listening to her heartbeat. I missed the way she said my name, and how fired up she’d get over the lack of technology here. Her passionate speeches about overcoming the archaic rules here, and her crazy, romantic plans for our future. She was always thoughtful and kind. I wanted to feel her pulling the blankets over me, like always, even though the chill didn’t bother me.

I needed to hold her in my arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. I missed watching her lip twitch when she got flustered after catching me glimpsing through her writing notes. I’d give away the rest of my life for five more minutes just to hear her voice again.

Losing someone without them being dead was worse. I didn’t know where she was, what was happening to her. She was out of reach, but not gone forever. Every minute was filled with helplessness. It was like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from, no matter how much I pinched myself and wished the day away.

Being in love was like wearing my heart on the outside of my chest—always vulnerable.

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