Page 48

Thankfully Azrael didn't press the fact I punched a Prince of one of the first Five Houses in the face in front of him.

I'm pretty sure he knew what the problem was without having to ask.

Once we were back at the dorms, Slevin cleared the showers for me while Harper stood guard in the hallway.

A hot shower didn't help.

I cried until the water ran cold and Slevin had to pull me out before I got hypothermia.

Zane knew that something was wrong, but I had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what was wrong with me and what happened with Viggo so he didn't ask as I sulked to my room like a girl that just got her heart broken.

It was only half past ten, and I had slept long enough while recovering from the multiple attempts on my life.

But I also didn't want to face the world while I tried to figure out what was wrong with me.

The soft knock at the door was followed by Harper.

"Hey Love," he whispered, slipping into my room with his childhood lantern. "I thought you could use this."

I sat up and wiped my eyes, nodding.

After he wound up the lantern then activated the sigil on the top, light poured from the stained-glass panes from the light within, and it slowly started to spin.

Harper joined me on the bed and coaxed me to his arms then he held me against his muscular chest.

When first roomed together, it was awkward, to say the least, so Harper and I would stay up for hours playing contraband video games and talking to try to alleviate the awkwardness. It worked, but when I was having Zane withdrawals or was missing my father, Harper would make a fort out of blankets and use his rainbow lantern to illuminate the fort.

It was a gift he had gotten from his grandmother when he was younger, and he took it with him to the Academy as a reminder of home, of what he was fighting to protect. Whenever either of us was homesick or struggling to deal with things that were more mature than we wanted to handle at the moment, we would hide in a blanket fort with his spinning lantern.

We didn't have a blanket fort at the moment, but this was close enough.

"What happened?" Harper whispered.

I shouldn't say anything, but I needed to vent in a way that would keep me from losing it any more than I already had.

"I kissed him," I whispered.

"And he didn't kiss you back," he surmised.

I blushed. "Oh no, he eventually did," I said with a small smile. "He was aroused even, and did that growl I love that turns me on. But then when I moaned, he froze in place as if he didn't know what he was doing or why, then he got up and left me there after apologizing."

Harper pulled the neck of my shirt down some then sighed when he saw the slight busing that matched up to Viggo's teeth at the base of my neck. "Love, you have to be careful. When Royals are involved, matters of the heart don't matter. Even if he fancies you, and loves you more than life itself, if things are written in stone why would either of you want to experience that heartache for a temporary romance is beyond me. Darkness follows him, Love, and you are getting pulled into those shadows."

I pulled away from Harper and sat up and he did likewise.

"That's where you're wrong," I said, taking the mala off my wrist and thumbed the beads; it was soothing. "The shadows are entwined with my soul, his aunt saw them, a speck that surprised even her. I didn't think anything of it, but now that I have a clear mind, I have an overwhelming sense of clarity."

"What do you mean?" he whispered, tears flooding his eyes.

"When we were at the hospital in Seattle, they knew Viggo was a Hemoglobe before even I did."

Harper's eyes widened.

"They called him Hemoglobe, not Prince," I explained. "And when the first wrapped me up and sniffed my blood, and tasted it, she asked her companions if they were certain I was the right girl because she didn't smell Thaumaturgy in my blood and said it tasted wrong. Then, when I threw myself at the one and we went over the railing, the Vrykolakas that Viggo was fighting stopped fighting him and reached for me, they both did, trying to save me, not the one I was attacking. They didn't give a damn that Viggo was there or was a Prince. They were there because of me, and had orders not to do anything to hurt me."

Harper continued to sit there with wide eyes. "Are you certain?"

I nodded. "My head hasn't been clear in so long, the nightmares were to blame for that I'm sure, but whatever kind of healing Majandra did, it went beyond the surface and to my psyche and soul. Now things are starting to register with me."

"How did you know about the Stregone?" he asked. "Even I didn't smell it."

"The closer she got, the more the Stregone's hold started to falter because the Sentinel's natural false sense of importance was surfacing, and it caused the sigil that was on their skin to burn and I smelled that mixed with the binding components that was on her breath as the sigil broke down."

Harper shook his head in awe. "That is bloody amazing," he whispered. "I couldn't smell it, no one could. Commander Azrael didn't even flinch, he just responded and trusted your judgment, just like that. I thought he had lost the plot!"

That was an entirely different thing that could have turned into a huge problem if I was wrong.

I twirled the mala around my finger, watching it spin. "Where I grew up, Azrael was around, and he was the only Guardian that never looked down his nose at me and Zannie. Whenever one of us brought something of concern to a Sentinel or Imperial Guard, they were dismissive because of our age, all but Azrael. I trust him... That, and he and my father are good friends, very good friends. They went to the same Academy, Father inadvertently introduced Azrael to his wife even," I said with a snivel, wiping my eyes; that I didn't want to think about right now. "Azrael trusts me unequivocally because I am my grandmother's twin and my father trusts me unconditionally. I call him Uncle and he calls me niece-in-heart and Child."

Harper chuckled. "You are your grandmother's twin," he agreed. "Your grandmother is truly terrifying, and I have the gift in my room to prove it."

"She does love you like a grandson," I said, patting his cheek.

"Anything else you haven't told me?"

I curled up on his lap and pulled my blanket up around us. "Yes, a lot actually," I said through a yawn, watching the rainbows of light move across the walls and ceiling from the lantern.

Harper chuckled then wrapped his arms around me and rested his head against mine. "How bad is it?"

"Prince de Babineaux thinks I'm a Sibyl."

"That is most troubling," he said.

"Have you heard of those?" I asked.

He kissed the side of my head. "Only in whispers and rumors. Why does Prince de Babineaux think you are a Sibyl?"

"Because of what happened before the incident that took us to Seattle," I said before yawning again. "I saw his death."

Harper groaned. "Bloody hell, Love. You should have said something sooner."

"Why would it have mattered? It didn't happen how I saw it-"

"But it will," he interrupted. "The precognitions of a Sibyl always come to pass, there is no way to prevent it. You cannot change it. You cannot stop it from happening, Love. Prince de Babineaux is going to die."

That sucks.

I groaned. "Serves him right for being a jerk and breaking up with me when we weren't even dating," I grumbled.

Harper shook his head. "Is there anything else you have neglected to tell us?" he pressed.

"Yes, actually. When I have something to compare it to, I will let you know what I have deduced when it pertains to the nightmares."

"You better," he said, caressing my back. "Get some rest and I'll protect you."

"I know you will," I grumbled under my breath. "You are too damn stubborn to not."

"I take that as a bloody compliment, Love," Harper teased.

"You would."