Page 48 of House of Darkness (The Fallen Star #1)

ESTRELLA

Roman,

We have arrived in Molvon, and our worst fears have been confirmed. The Javali have turned. The ports are at a standstill, and captains have been executed. Codran and his ilk are here as well. It is time.

Razvan

Enso read over the letter that Roman had received just that morning, his chiseled jaw flexing as his free hand clenched and unclenched against the war room table.

It was urgent enough that an employee had delivered it directly to our room before the sun had fully risen.

Roman’s eyes had been half-open, his voice raspy with the remnants of sleep still clinging to us both.

But that state was short-lived when the words spilled from the page like a living thing, crawling to poison us.

He made no effort to stop me from reading it as I curled against him, so my shock mirrored his own.

I had hoped for a calm morning. We had both been so busy, nearly running ourselves ragged in preparation for this very moment.

Roman’s generals demanded his attention every second.

The Bursuc House had been the major supplier of wyne in the region, and their disappearance had left a gaping void in the industry.

Roman’s and Catina’s bickering over supply chain alternatives echoed through the castle for most of the morning until Enso finally managed to grab his attention for battle preparations.

Then Isabella wrangled whatever energy he had left after dinner.

My schedule had been nearly as hectic. I rose at sunrise to run, then trained with Enso until his more pressing duties required his attention.

I practiced by myself until Catina was free to discuss my business, which was coming along splendidly.

For the first time ever, I was proud of what I was becoming—strong, independent.

I refused to wait to be rescued again. Yet by the end of each day, Roman and I nearly collapsed into bed together, sleep overtaking us before our heads hit the plush sage pillows.

It didn’t leave much time to discuss… anything.

I had hoped we could take a breath this morning, but our tangled relationship would have to be put off once more. More pressing issues awaited us.

The rustle of flames brought my attention back to the war room.

The letter, once heavy with the weight of impending bloodshed, now floated in singed pieces above Enso’s hand, trapped in the tongue of his flames until it was reduced to ash.

Enso turned his gaze to the group, who sat with bated breath.

“Well, if Razvan says it’s time for war, then it’s time for war,” Enso's earthen voice boomed through the room like a sledgehammer, shattering the thick fog of silence that had settled over us.

“Hell yeah! I can’t wait to put Edward’s head on a fucking pike,” Catina snarled. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought; there were more than a few people I would like to see given the same treatment.

“We have to make a plan before we just run in there. If the Javali and Bursuc have taken up post in Molvon, we’re talking about two formidable armies,” Isabella chided.

“One and a half. We tore through most of the local Bursuc numbers,” Roman replied.

“We just dealt with one station, not nearly half their army,” Enso said.

The Bursuc House was the only one to successfully integrate into the territories of nearly every other House.

Rather than merely holding dominion over their own territory in Aetror, they had outposts across all three continents.

The outpost Roman and his generals had destroyed was just one of many.

How many more girls were trapped in those basements, never knowing security or sunlight?

My fingers twitched in the folds of my skirt.

“I doubt they’ve had time to mobilize any other outposts, as long as we act swiftly,” Catina responded.

Roman hunched forward over the faded map pinned to the table, moving his untouched teacup aside with a grimace, as though it might bite him if he got too close.

My eyes narrowed. It was a subtle movement—one the other generals probably wouldn’t notice since they weren’t paying attention—but I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen him drink.

The last time had been that night, and it had been from me.

It was possible he was drinking when I wasn’t around; after all, we were both busy most of the day.

But a sinking feeling told me otherwise.

I pursed my lips but stayed silent as his talon traced across the patchwork canvas, catching on holes that resembled knife marks.

His black curls fell around his face, his eyes narrowed with focus as he studied the map, as if the answers might leap from the ink.

“Enso, you will mobilize half of our army to the southern border of Molvon. Estrella and I will fly north and march in with Ylva’s forces.

The Fj?llr?v army is the only way we will get there with enough support in time.

Cat and Bells, figure out the logistics of supplies, then march with Enso.

Even if you must leave after him, you should be able to catch up.

I will have guards brought in to protect the girls.

” Roman spoke with a calm authority that reminded me of an evening sprawled in front of a mirror, that same voice whispering in my ear.

I hoped he didn’t notice my flush, but based on the twitch in his lips, my hopes were futile.

Enso spoke next, “Good thinking. We should each send an emissary to Ethhad to coordinate our arrival and attack.”

Catina leaned over the map, picking up two wooden figurines—one a raven with carefully carved feathers, the other a fox, its tail wrapped over its little feet.

She placed one to the north and one to the south of Molvon.

I scowled at the void to the east—the sea.

“Can’t they just leave on their ships?” I asked, pointing to the city’s port.

Enso smirked. “Let me deal with that.”

A flame ignited on the tip of his index finger, which he pressed to the port. Blackness seeped over the bluish canvas as the map scorched under his heat. Isabella reached across and swatted his finger with a stream of curses. “This map is nearly as old as you are, estupido!” she snarled.

“Then it’s time for a replacement,” Enso replied smoothly. Roman chuckled.

“Everyone satisfied with this plan?” Roman asked, scanning the table. He took his time to meet each person’s eyes, including mine. The generals mumbled in agreement.

“Good, because we mobilize in the morning. Do what you must to prepare,” he said in dismissal. The scrape of chairs filled the thick air, but I stayed locked in place, my eyes on the tsar.

Somehow, being alone with him made the room feel fuller. The static electricity was enough to raise the hair on my nape, shrinking the space until he was the only thing left. It wasn’t fair how he could make me feel so insignificant yet so powerful and alive at the same time.

“I can feel your eyes burning holes into my head,” Roman said, turning to look at me fully.

All words evaporated from my lungs as I stared at him, his undivided attention on me. I meant to confront him, to be headstrong as I was training to be, but I took the easy way out. “Truth for a truth?”

His eyes heated, a soft smile forcing a fang to protrude from his lips. “Always.”

I couldn’t help but smile back at the beauty of Roman’s smile. He was like a dark angel sent purely for temptation. “You first.”

He hummed thoughtfully, his hand slithering across the table to find mine. The sharp tips of his fingers brushed over my knuckles delicately, daring me to stray off course. But I wouldn’t, not for this. I snapped my eyes to his just as he spoke. “How do you feel about going to war?”

I looked back at the map, at the brownish scorch mark that had spread to the edges of Molvon.

I knew that darkness was not just symbolic.

Darkness would fall on that town, upon innocents and traitors alike.

Blood would turn the streets that same shade of ruddy brown.

I blinked back the thought. “It is necessary.”

“This means the start of war, Estrella. A war where innocents will die, and I will be partially to blame.” I studied him, noting the loose strands of hair out of place where his fingers had run through it, the soft taupe shade under those beautiful ruby eyes.

The tension in his jaw—the weight of the world hung in his shoulders.

Though he didn’t need to carry all that guilt, it was in his nature.

I twisted my fingers into his and squeezed. “Innocents are already dying, Roman. Suffering. Begging for our help. You are not to blame for their pain, but if we can do something about it, shouldn’t we?”

A half-hearted smile spread across his lips, his hand squeezing back. “We should, and we will. We’ll set this whole world ablaze.”

He looked at our entwined hands and cleared his throat. “Your turn.”

“When was the last time you drank?”

His eyes immediately darted to the untouched cup, discarded off to his side. They widened in mute horror, confirming my fears. His mouth parted to speak, but I cut him off. “Remember you promised not to keep things from me. Not anymore.”

His jaw flexed. Silence enveloped us for what felt like an eternity; throughout that time, he didn’t so much as breathe. Finally, he released a ragged breath and freed my hand to pick up the teacup, staring into its red depths as though something might lunge out at him. “About a week ago.”

My heart stopped. I had to speak past the lump rapidly forming in my throat. “A week? Roman, when I first moved in, you were consuming a bottle of wyne a day! You can’t survive on that!”

He bared his teeth, the table shaking beneath us. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I crossed my arms. “I know enough to know that drinking once a week is not healthy for a vampire. Why, Roman?”

Silence fell once more. He held my gaze for several breaths, then abruptly broke away to look back at his cup. His throat bobbed.

“When I… left, I was on a bender.”

“A what?”

His grip tightened on the cup, hard enough that the delicate ceramic burst under his fingers. Blood poured over his clenched fist, spurting between his fingers and onto the dish below. I yelped and jumped up to grab a towel from the serving cabinet behind him.

His free hand grabbed my arm, the grip tense yet gentle.

“I am an alcoholic, Estrella. It started as a way to forget all the evil I was forced to commit, but it got worse. When my mother died, I drowned myself for weeks until Sorin came and dragged me out. I’ve been as sober as I can be since, only drinking what I need to stay healthy, and I always kept my consumption regulated…

but I relapsed that night. That’s where I was while you were being kidnapped. ”

I gaped down at him in mute horror. Horror at the anger and hatred marring his face — at himself, I realized.

That anger was always directed at himself.

My insides twisted, knowing he had been holding onto this guilt for nearly a month, blaming himself, eating him alive.

As though he needed more to feel guilty about, like he needed to take on another’s evil and lay it across his shoulders.

Wordlessly, I crawled into his lap, facing him.

I wiggled my fingers into his blood-soaked fist until he released the shards.

It was impossible to discern what was his blood and what was wyne, but I knew other wounds needed tending first.

“I’m sorry for my part in triggering that. I never wanted that,” I breathed, cradling his cheek in my now blood-smeared palm. He didn’t seem to mind, leaning into the contact.

“I tell you I wasn’t here to protect you because I was drunk, and your first thought is to apologize to me.

” A harsh, broken laugh erupted from him, one that turned more guttural until he was snarling hard enough to send vibrations up my spine.

Having left behind the shattered remains of his cup, his hands fisted into the fabric of my skirts.

“You aren’t responsible for what happened, Roman.”

He bared his teeth in a vicious display I’d only seen a few times, one that had my eyes widening and heart pounding. “I am completely responsible for what happened. If I had been here—”

Unsure what else to do, I pressed my lips to his, letting my body convey what words couldn’t: the pain, the regret, the hurt, the helplessness against his overwhelming tidal wave of guilt and self-hatred.

There was only one person I blamed for my kidnapping—well, two.

Neither were the man who had done everything to rescue me time and time again.

He melted into the contact, turning into boiling liquid in my palms. He kissed like he spoke, his lips abusing mine with that same regret and anger he continued to poison himself with.

His hands wrapped around me, fisting the fabric at my back, pulling me close.

I wanted to drown in that heat, but I wouldn’t let myself. Not yet, at least.

Lips still swollen from his decadent violence, I pulled back and tilted my head to the side, allowing my loose hair to cascade over my shoulder in silken strands to reveal that garish bite mark his lips had reclaimed all those nights ago. “You need to feed,” I murmured breathlessly.

His face shifted from shock to anger. He leaned back. “I’m not doing that, Estrella. Those times with you were special to me; they meant something else. I won’t make you my personal blood bag.”

I bared my teeth in what I hoped was a display of aggression that matched his own and bowed my head forward until our noses touched.

I twisted my fingers into his midnight curls, the other hand gripping the fabric at his collarbone.

“You don’t get to make decisions for me, not anymore.

I am choosing this to help you because I fucking want to, and you’re going to accept my help because we both need this,” I barked.

His eyes widened, but what I said was the truth.

Taking control of my own blood, choosing to allow its power to flow to him, gave me a sense of strength and agency I hadn’t felt in a long time.

And my blood didn’t have alcohol in it like bottled wyne did.

He could feed without worry. I let my head fall to the side once more.

“We’re a team, Roman. We help each other through the darkness and light.”

He searched my eyes, his softening gaze filled with vulnerability that made my heart twist into knots. Then he dipped to my neck. The feeling of his lips ghosting over my flesh made my breath hitch. “Thank you, Estrella. I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

Then his teeth sank in, and the room filled with the sound of our breathless moans as we both took what the other gave, the world readying to fall apart around us in flaming pieces.