Page 47 of The Night Runs Red

“That’s excellent news,” he said, reaching for his shirt and throwing it on. Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t sure why I thought he was lying, but there was just something about how his words seemed to coat my skin in oil that left me feeling disgusted.

“There you are,” Rion said, smiling as he walked through the glass door of the gym. He pressed a kiss to my temple before turning toward my uncle. “Thank you for agreeing to help with her protection.”

My uncle turned to grab his gym bag and swing it over his shoulder. “Of course.” He glanced at me. “I will see you in a few days, little star.”

“Would you mind if I walked him out, love? There are a few things I would like to discuss.” My gaze shifted between the two men, and I could only nod. I know I should tell Rion of my suspicions, but he would lose his fucking mind with no regard for the truth. It wouldn’t matter if my uncle was involved or not; the accusation would be enough for him.

What I needed was proof.

* * *

The next few days passed in a blur.

While my uncle went out of town, something that only added to my suspicion when Rion told me, I’d taken the liberty of holing myself up in the massive library with Anya and Brielle most of the day. Anya brought in every book her father owned. They were currently spread out on the floor, the tables, and even a few armchairs. We spent our time bouncing around from book to book, jotting down any notes that could possibly help us.

The blood moon was quickly approaching. Rion’s sister would be arriving by the end of the week, and the entire house was frantically preparing for the celebration. I’d never seen so many people in the halls since I’d been here. Anya said the bustling crowd was typical for a D’Arcy event, but more exciting, given the reason. She’d been little when the last one occurred, but she could still recall the thrum of magic permeating the air. Vampyres would dance under the red sky, their skin nearly aglow with power.

Brielle, on the other hand, told me how the event brought about concerns for the fae. The vampyres were at their strongest during the cycle, and we were at our weakest. Many of our kind refused to leave their houses, which made little sense to me, given we traditionally couldn’t be in the same place at the same time unless it was under the safety of an enchantment.

Rion dragged me out of the library each night, taking me to his bed and fucking me until I couldn’t move. There were moments I would catch him staring at me like he was scared our time together would end at any given moment. I felt the same way, constantly waiting for the rug to be swept from beneath my feet.

I’d never experienced anything close to love before. Still, with each moment I spent in Rion D’Arcy’s arms, I felt that changing. Would I survive the fall if he let me go? I didn’t think so.

Tonight, I stayed even later in the library than usual. Anya had gone home to Poppy, who was due any day now. She asked me to take a break and come with her, but the sun had already set by the time she left, and I was confined to the house.

My research into the symbol kept bringing me back to the days of the First King, Calix Darrow. My mother had named me in his honor because she claimed I was destined to lead us into an era of peace, just as he had. As my uncle had mentioned, it always came back to protection. Of what, I couldn’t figure out.

But since I kept circling around my ancestors, I decided to go back through the matched couples over the centuries. After all, our curse started because of his deal with a sorceress. And maybe some of this research was due to my own curiosity about the history between the Darrow’s and the D’Arcy’s.

My father had kept my knowledge of our curse to a minimum. It was always something I accepted without question. But now I couldn’t help but wonder why that was?

I hunched over the large leather-bound book in front of me. The smell of dust lingered in the air. From what I could tell, there’d been only six ceremonies throughout the past millennia. Six. The longest marriage had lasted nearly four hundred years until it ended in blood. Both had been found in their beds with their throats slit, clinging to each other as if they had a chance. After that, many of the matches ended in various states of bloodshed. Every case, except for the one, showed the deceased party as a Darrow.

But why? Why were they being murdered? The whole point of this curse was to force the families, and by extent, their factions, to coexist. So why weren’t they lasting? And who was out to get them? Nausea churned as I thought about my kidnappers.

Was I next?

I reached out for my coffee mug, frowning as I noticed it had gone cold. Gods. How long had I been in here today? I hadn’t left for lunch. Silas was kind enough to bring Anya and me sandwiches and sparkling water. Rion had left to meet with his uncle this evening in the city, and I didn’t want to be in my room alone. We hadn’t talked about where I would sleep if he wasn’t home, which was silly when I thought about it. I was his wife; I should be sleeping in his bed. But something stopped me when I thought about trudging up to the tower alone.

I rubbed my temples, scanning down the text until I found the union before Rion and I. Hmm… That was strange. Despite it having been fairly recent, there was hardly anything written under the log. I re-read the entry again. Thick, black lines were drawn through their names. They almost resembled burn marks. The dates underneath were little help, only citing the date of their ceremony and the year of death.

My fingertips ran across the textured pages. Just as the others had been, a Darrow had died. My father and aunt were the only children my grandparents had, and I was an only sibling. If Brielle had a sister, wouldn’t she have mentioned it? Especially if she died. So, who was this mystery woman?

“Still awake?”

I jerked up to see Jasper standing in the doorway, his hands behind his back. His eyes looked like hollow pits with tiny gold flecks in the dim lighting. While he looked better physically, I could tell he was far from being okay.

“Jasper!” I said, pushing away from the table. He smiled at me hesitantly, gesturing toward the seat in front of me. I nodded eagerly, watching his slow approach.

He stared at the numerous books littering every open space and raised his brow. “Doing a bit of light reading?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Something like that,” I said, running a hand through my hair. Exhaustion was wearing on me, and not just from the countless hours of research I’d done. Since the moment Rion D’Arcy entered my life, it’d been in an absolute whirlwind. There hadn’t been time to breathe. If I wasn’t fighting for his attention, I was fighting for my life.

I studied the man before me, noticing how his time away had affected him. “How are you?”

Jasper sucked in a sharp breath. “I am still settling in.” The muscles in his throat worked as he stared at me. “Being away, like that, takes a massive toll on your body. And after tasting your blood…” he trailed off, shrugging.

Both of us stayed silent. I didn’t know what to tell him. ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t seem like enough, especially given his torture. “Jasper, I—”

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