Page 58 of The Night Runs Red

I felt the fracture of Rion’s emotional state as he looked at me with a tear-filled gaze. “Listen to me, love. Please, let me ex—”

Renwick’s ever-tightening grip sent new waves of pain as he clawed at my scalp before jerking my head to stare into soulless eyes. “Do you know how difficult it is to never walk amongst the majority, to sit by—wasting your life sitting in a house behind an enchanted barrier which does nothing but show us what we are missing? You should be thanking us for fighting so hard,” he snarled, spittle flying out and splattering my face.

Rion lunged forward, barely avoiding me, to tackle Renwick. With a thud, I landed on the ground, scrambling toward my uncle, who grasped me in his arms. Something sharp dug into my thigh as I remembered the dagger Rowena had given me.

While Leonora was preoccupied watching Rion and Renwick struggle against each other, I slowly retrieved my blade and slid it into my uncle’s waiting palm. He was far better with a weapon than I was, centuries of training honing him into the warrior he grew to be. He could end this, should I fail.

Not that it mattered because I knew only I could end this struggle. Only I could truly punish my husband for his deception.

The plan was there, forming in the back of my mind, but the strength I needed to execute it waned. If I went through with this, the wrath of those I loved would haunt me eternally.

It was a price I’d gladly pay, though, to ensure their safety.

“Enough!” Leonora shrieked, stomping over and grabbing each man by the neck. Long talons dug into their skin, drawing blood that ran in thick rivulets. Rion’s chest rose and fell with heaving breaths, his eyes frantically scanning to see if I was safe.

I hated myself for how my heart faltered, because I would’ve moved mountains to ensure he never felt an ounce of pain again, even though he was ultimately responsible for the gaping wound in my chest. Even more so when his eyes softened with the knowledge I was unharmed.

But his relief would be short-lived, much like my elation had been to finally know what it felt like to be loved. Or so I thought.

Because if this was love, I didn’t want it. How could someone claim that kind of dominion over another person yet lure them out under false pretenses? He demolished the wall I’d once built high, knocking it over with a wrecking ball of lies and half-truths. Ultimately, all I was left with was rubble, the broken pieces of our relationship.

I fought the nausea rising, standing on trembling legs. My uncle looked down, furrowing his brows in question. What are you doing? He seemed to say.

Shaking my head, I fought back tears, hoping it conveyed my message to him. Trust me.

I glanced toward the large window, captivated by the beauty of the stars against the inky sky. Even the blood moon was stunning, casting the world in a soft crimson glow. But that attraction was stolen by what it represented—the horrors that would be unleashed on this night.

“Now, girl,” Leonora said, striding past both men until she stood before me. “It is time to give us what we seek. Do it willingly, and you may leave. No one will stop you.” She pulled a long black dagger from behind her back, the edge glinting with the promise of imminent death.

No matter what words she used, we all knew she’d never allow me to leave. Not alive, anyway.

Her tongue flicked out and danced across the tip of her lengthening fangs as her eyes devoured me as if I were the answer to every prayer she’d ever uttered. Which, I supposed, wasn’t far off from the truth.

“How does the blood need to be given?” I asked, wiping my sweat-coated palms across the back of my dress.

“Mother, no,” Rion growled, attempting to stand, but Renwick forced him down. There was so much distance between us, even in such a small space. He felt it. I could see that from the frantic look in his eyes as he clawed at his uncle’s grip as he glanced between Leonora and I. “No, I will not let you do this.”

I leveled him with a blank stare, unable to muster any malice or misery. “You no longer have a say in my decisions.”

“Calia, listen she—”

“How does the blood need to be given?” I asked again, ignoring Rion entirely. I couldn’t stand watching him fight to get to me, or how hearing his pleading words made me want to believe the sincerity interwoven into each syllable. If I focused too long, I wouldn’t go through with this.

Leonora walked toward an unassuming painting on the wall, pulling it off to reveal a safe. She brought her thumb to her teeth, using the sharp edge to coax blood to the surface. “There are two ways,” she began, placing her finger on the lock. The turning of multiple gears filled the room, and I waited on bated breath for her to drop the truth I knew was coming.

“The first, I would say, is the ‘traditional’ way—a true joining between vampyre and fae. You would each take from one another until you were nearly spent, ingesting the other’s essence, power, and memories. It relies on trust. You must trust one another to ensure neither goes past the point of no return.”

“You mean death.”

She dipped her head once in confirmation. “The second is more formal, but just as effective.” She reached inside and produced a silver chalice, the outside lined with a mixture of onyx and ruby jewels. “It is an offering, a mixture of your blood with Rion’s until the chalice is filled. Then it is to be blessed by a descendant of the sorceress who placed the curse upon our families under the light of the red moon.”

I blinked in surprise. “I was under the impression there was none. If they’d been around all along, why has it been so difficult to break the—”

“Enough questions. Give me your arm, girl.”

I cradled my arm to my chest, needing to buy more time. “If I’m giving my blood to your cause, I deserve to have answers.”

“You are not going to be giving anything,” Rion spat, finally breaking free of Renwick’s hold. He sped to my side, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him.

---