Page 44 of Darkest Heart

“Then enlighten me.”

Candlelight flickered light onto his features, the shadows darkening every expression. I lowered my barrier, finding it easier than ever as I buried every feeling, replacing them with cold, hard logic. I tasted him, in the same way the soul vampires tasted our essence?through the eyes. Unease crept in, mixed with confliction, a hint of fear, finished with a wall of desperation. For once, I could set his emotions apart from mine. Normally I couldn’t tell where mine began, and another’s ended, but this time was different. I was different.

“You feel trapped,” I said aloud, my eyes widening in realization as I pieced the emotions together.

He squirmed, touching the back of his neck as he averted his stare. “Don’t do that.”

“Feeling vulnerable?” I asked, tilting my head with a hint of a smile. “Unlike you, I don’t need anything external to destroy you.”

“I get it. You hate me.” His fingers tightened into fists, his chest heaving on his next breath. “But stop pretending you’re going to kill me. We both know you can’t. They need me.” He pointed at the closed door.

I didn’t plan on staying here. Once I was trusted enough, I would send their entire system crumbling. The prophecy would come true. But not for the sangaree. If I was supposed to bring death to all vampires, it would be these. “When I’m done here,” I said, purposely keeping it vague, “you are next on my list.” I smirked as panic jolted behind my barrier. “So you are afraid of me. How things have turned around,” I said, alluding to how I used to be fearful of him. Back when I didn’t know any better. I was afraid he would leave. Afraid he would hurt me. Just terrified of being without him. Even recently, I was admittedly concerned how far he would go with the poison. He kept me naked, covered in my own filth. I wouldn’t forget that.

He leaned forward, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s not me you need to be afraid of.”

“Who? The aniccipere?” I humphed. It would be stupid not to be terrified of them. One could easily take any sangaree down. But now I was in the heart of their lair and hierarchy, I wasn’t as concerned. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“Worse.”

I arched a brow. Before I could force him to elaborate, the doors swung open. A shiver curled down my spine as the king entered. His presence was more dominating compared to the rest. There was something off about him, a detail I couldn’t put my finger on. As he approached, I curtseyed, keeping my eyes on him.

Astor stood, stepping back into the small crowd of aniccipere as the King glided, far more graciously than I’d anticipated, and lowered himself onto a throne.

He tilted his head. “Seraphina.”

“Your Majesty,” I replied, doing my best to keep any affliction from my tone.

“You met with the gods,” he stated, getting right down to it.

“Yes.”

“Algor has divulged your plan to kill all sangaree,” he said, suspicion crowning his unusually large eyes for an aniccipere. “Yet you are married to one.”

“It was forced upon me,” I stated, matter of fact, keeping my face as expressionless as possible. “I don’t care about any of them.”

“Your parents?”

‘They’re monsters.”

He scoffed a sadistic, high-pitched laugh. “Then what are we?”

I glanced at Astor. Someone else was involved in all of this. They had to be. There was no way Astor was doing this alone. He felt trapped. The orchestration of the entire plan was too elaborate for these creatures. He’d said I shouldn’t fear him, or the aniccipere. Worse. Who was worse? Kalon? But he owned Nightshade and hated the soul vampires. Velda then? I searched my mind, while the aniccipere king watched me carefully. “Puppets,” I baited. “Someone’s using you.”

A low growl reverberated from his throat, his long talons biting into his palms. “You have a death wish, Seraphina.”

“Olivia,” I spat.

“But it’s such a boring name.”

A shiver curled down my back, the hairs on the back of my neck standing erect. Where had I had that before?

My eyes darted to his makeshift, thorn crown. “I know he isn’t behind this.” I pointed at Astor, cowering behind Algor. “Who’s helping you? How do you know you can trust them?”

The room silenced as the king leaned closer. I stood straight, unmoving, as I sensed his desire to tear me apart. “I am supposed to trust you instead?”

“If you were smart,” I added, putting out feelers to sense his reaction to every statement. Rage simmered, but was restrained behind curiosity. “Who’s helping you? It has to be someone who hates the monarchy.” My forehead creased as I looked at Astor for any sign in his face, but he only seemed scared for me. The irony. “A man? Woman? Did she crown you?”

He stood, the restraint behind his eyes snapping. “Enough!” My heart palpitated, and Algor stepped back as the king closed the inches between us, curling a talon under my chin. Tilting my face up, he examined my features. “You’re lying about the gods. Tell me what theyreallysaid.”

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