Page 17 of Blood

I’m staring so intently at Violet’s back that, at first, I don’t realize something is amiss. All I can focus on is that mane of untamed blonde curls, the color reminding me of sunlight and moonlight woven together.

But it’s because I’m staring at her so keenly that I realize...she’s not moving.

No one in the room is moving.

Spidey has her arms crossed over her chest and her mouth open, as if she’s prepared to yell something, yet not a single sound leaves her cracked lips. Even the spider on her tongue seems to be frozen in place.

Beside her, Pan has his head thrown back in laughter—though I have no idea what he finds so funny. His wide, unseeing eyes twinkle with unbridled mirth.

Are they all...frozen?

Panic overtakes me almost immediately.

What the fuck happened?

Is this some kind of trick?

Is Zeus involved?

I swivel on my heel, desperately trying to take in the entire room.

If Zeus is here, I’ll kill him for what he did to Violet and her mates. I’ll cut off his ungodly head and place it on a spike. I’ll—

“Necromancer,” a low, raspy voice booms. It startles me so much that I jump about a foot in the air.

Slowly, almost tentatively, I turn toward the council table.

The White Stag watches me with beady, intelligent eyes, the only creature in the room besides me that seems to be cognizant.

“W-what the fuck is going on?” I demand. My heart feels like it’s being squeezed through a spiked straw. I can’t help but flick my gaze toward Violet, still frozen with her hand extended, yet again.

The White Stag slowly moves out from behind the table.

I know I told Violet not to call him a deer, but that’s what he is—a large, majestic buck with snow-white fur and antlers that seem to glimmer, as if they hold all the stars within the bones. Magic shimmers around his body as he walks closer, those penetrating eyes of his never leaving my face.

“I am here to judge your purity, young necromancer,” the White Stag announces.

My heartbeat jumps to the level of light aerobics.

“What?” I ask in disbelief.

My purity?

What the fuck?

Almost absently, the White Stag turns his large head in Violet’s direction.

“I’ve already seen inside that young demoness’s mind,” he begins in his booming voice. “I’ve never met a creature as selfless as your Violet.”

I ignore the way the words “your Violet” have my heart catapulting into motion.

“I don’t...” I begin, forking my fingers through my dark hair.

“She loves her mates fiercely,” the White Stag continues. “She’ll be willing to die for them...and for the world.” He continues to move closer until he’s a hairbreadth away from me, until all I can see is his dark eyes that seem to swirl with the stars of the universe, a fathomless abyss of nothing and everything all at once. “Tell me, necromancer...would you be willing to give your life for Violet Dracula?”

It feels as if an elephant is sitting on my chest and compressing my breath. All I can do is beg for oxygen to fill my glass-coated lungs.

“I don’t... I can’t...” Ash settles on my tongue, bitter and chalky.

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