“How?”
“I’ll survive the way I’ve survived these last fifteen hundred years. Water doesn’t scare me.”
She stared at me from where she stood at the dresser, her fears not fully assuaged.
“As I already said, you owe me nothing—”
“I’m coming.”
A knock sounded on the door.
My eyes lingered on hers for a moment before I answered it.
It was Aurelias, his expression hard and emotionless. “We need to speak.”
I opened the door wider and invited him in.
He glanced at Larisa then at me. “Away from the human.”
“Her name is Larisa.”
Aurelias gave me an ice-cold stare. “Her name is food.” He walked off without waiting for me.
I shut the door behind him and followed, watching him lead the way outside the palace and to the snow-covered grounds. His black cloak dragged behind him, and his broad shoulders shifted as he walked. He approached the large tree in the courtyard, withered and dead, sharp branches stretched out and decayed.
I came to his side and looked at the view, the air cold and dry against my cheeks. After Aurelias had become an Original, we’d drifted apart, and for the last several hundred years, we’d rarely interacted. Battles against the Ethereal had been won and lost, but even then, we didn’t speak. Of all my brothers, he was definitely the one I was least close to.
“I need to feed on the journey.” That was all he said, as if that were an entire speech.
“How is this my problem?”
“Because I need to house slaves below deck.” He turned to look at me. “My favorites.” His dark eyes shifted back and forth between mine. “Will that be an issue with your human?”
“Larisa.”
Aurelias continued to stare. “Answer my question.”
It would be an issue. I wouldn’t be surprised if Larisa set them free or tried to kill my brother. “Yes, that will be an issue.”
“Then I will feed on her.”
“That’s not happening either.”
He gave no distinct reaction, but his tense aura conveyed his ferocity. “One or the other. Choose.”
I couldn’t deny him both, not when it ensured certain death. “I’ll speak to her.”
“We depart tomorrow morning. Be ready.” He turned away abruptly, his cloak swishing behind him in dramatic fashion.
* * *
When I returned to our bedchambers, Larisa was ready to go, sitting on the rug in front of the fire with Fang, the two of them playing a game of cards. Fang lay down his hand, and judging by the sigh that escaped her lips, she’d been defeated. “Do you know if he cheats?” She looked at me.
She’s a sssore lossser.
“He doesn’t cheat.”
“How is anyone this good at cards?” she asked incredulously.