Page 23 of Sophie’s Ruin (Crimson and Shadows #2)

SOPHIE

Iwas dreaming about Henry again. Only this time, it didn’t feel like a dream, but rather a vision, as if I’d projected myself to the place where he was, floating like an apparition above his crumpled form on the floor.

He was tucked against a rough rock wall, lying unmoving and still.

Too still, I feared, my heart thumping heavily in my chest. Refusing to give in to panic, I held my breath and listened.

Potent relief washed over me when I heard his labored breathing and the strained beating of his heart. He was alive.

Barely, I realized, quickly assessing his condition.

Deep gashes ran down his broad back, and smaller cuts and lacerations covered the rest of his body.

I’d seen his abused state when I’d watched from afar at the border, but up close, it was a truly gory sight.

It filled me with so much rage that my entire body shook.

Then I noticed the chains. Thick, metal ones, binding him to the wall, and the collar…

the collar was still there, around his fucking neck.

Red-hot fury surged, begging to be released and unleashed on all those who’d hurt him, were still hurting him, judging by the array of torture instruments on the nearby table.

Serrated blades designed to tear through skin and muscle lay covered in blood, both fresh and dried.

His blood, I knew, my nostrils flaring. This place reeked of it.

It also reeked of misery and anguish. I swore I could hear Henry’s cries of agony echoing off the cavernous walls as if the sound had forever seeped into the rough surface.

Cavernous walls…I know this place, I thought, looking around.

Stern’s lair. They’d brought him here of all places?! Another wave of wild, violent rage rolled through me, curling my hands into fists. Breathing through the volatile emotion, I focused on Henry’s form underneath.

“Henry?” I said, my phantom voice ringing out in the candlelit cave. I didn’t expect an answer, but he flinched at my words—a small, barely-there motion. “Can you hear me?” I rasped past the lump in my throat. My chest was so tight I couldn’t take a full breath in.

Blood seeped out of the gashes on Henry’s back as he pushed himself up off the floor, groaning in pain.

He slumped against the wall, and his head fell back as he stared up at the ceiling.

His deep-blue eyes fastened on me, and my heart skipped a beat as I stared down at him, wondering if he could see me.

“You know what they say,” he ground out, and I held my breath, hoping he was talking to me.

“Like father like son.” He coughed, and some blood bubbled up, spilling out of his mouth.

“Was that how you felt before you died? You were so close to ushering in a new world, but then you went to the Dark Witches, thinking they had Eloise, and they killed you,” Henry paused and swallowed.

He was talking to Vincent, not me. My heart sank with disappointment.

“I was close, too,” he continued, looking right through me.

“Sometimes I think this is the end I deserve. For everything I have done. I never deserved her. I only thought I did. I hoped…” he trailed off as a single tear rolled down his cheek, mixing with the blood covering his face.

I began crying, too, my tears evaporating in this strange state I was in before they could land on Henry sitting beneath me.

He looked so very human in this weakened state—more man than vampire—and a ragged sob escaped me because I wanted to reach for him, to cradle him in my arms and take him as far away from this place as I could.

“To whom are you speaking?” came Camilla’s husky voice, as she stepped inside the cave.

I instinctively bared my fangs in a hiss, forgetting that I wasn’t truly here.

I was just a phantom, an observer unable to do anything about what was unfolding before me.

Camilla strolled to where Henry sat by the wall, the ivory silk of her gown clinging to her legs like liquid.

She stopped before him, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

When he didn’t, she kicked him in the stomach, and he grunted in pain.

“I asked a question,” she snarled, grabbing the chain attached to the collar around Henry’s neck. She yanked on it sharply, snapping his head to the side.

A growl escaped me—I will shove that collar down Camilla’s fucking throat. I will make her choke on it.

“Vincent,” Henry said, in between the wet, wheezing sounds coming from his bruised chest.

“Ah, yes. My dear old friend,” Camilla crooned as she let go of the chain and inspected her pointed nails.

“So, all those years of friendship. Just a lie?” Henry asked, each word a struggle.

Camilla smirked as she looked back at him. “Vincent was the oldest and the strongest of us. Friendship with him gave me an advantage. I always like to be on the winning side.”

Henry smirked in response. “You are not on the winning side now.”

“Says the one bleeding out on the floor,” Camilla hissed.

“It doesn’t matter what happens to me. It only matters what Sophie does, and I hope she uses the amulet to wipe the vampires out of this world.”

My heart seized in my chest at his words.

I’d suspected that Henry might feel that way before, and now I had the confirmation.

Briefly closing my eyes, I let the words wash over me before dissipating into thin air.

I didn’t let them sink in—I couldn’t. If that was truly what Henry desired, I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“You know what I think?” Camilla purred, dropping to her haunches by Henry’s side.

The hem of her gown dipped in the pool of his blood, the fine fabric quickly absorbing the crimson.

“I think if Sophie was going to use the amulet to destroy us, she would have done so already.” Her ice-blue gaze roamed over Henry’s face as she continued, “I heard what you told her before the witch spirited her away from the study. You are my heart. How romantic.” She cringed in disgust. “Your words made me realize something, though. Sophie might be a vampire, but her heart is still human, and it beats for you.”

“Don’t underestimate her dedication to her people,” Henry bit out through his blood-stained teeth.

“You mean the humans?” Camilla smirked. “She might have been devoted to them in the past, but I think she is now devoted to only one creature above all else.” She paused, bringing her lips to his right ear. “You,” she whispered, seductively low.

Henry’s eyes fluttered closed as he suddenly looked defeated. Was it because he knew she was right? I knew she was, and I wasn’t ashamed of it. I didn’t feel regret about my feelings for him, only resolve.

“So, you see.” Camilla’s red-hued lips stretched in a malicious smile. “She will come for you. It’s only a matter of time.”

She reached up and dragged her index finger through one of the lacerations on Henry’s chest, eliciting a hiss from him.

Rising to her feet with preternatural ease, she brought the finger to her mouth and sucked off the blood.

Then she was gone, the stir of air rippling the flames in the dozens of candles illuminating the cave.

I woke up with a gasp, my eyes darting around the dark house.

If one could still call it that. The doors and windows were missing, and while the walls still stood, they were rotten and on the brink of collapse.

I’d half-expected them to crumble down on me while I’d slept.

The only reason I’d still stayed was because I knew that, as a vampire, I would survive if that happened, and because I had nowhere else to go.

After I’d left Celeste in the woods, I’d run until I’d found the decrepit structure Henry and I had sheltered in when we’d been stranded in the Black Forest before.

Three days I’d been here, refusing to go back to Celeste’s cottage.

On the first day, I’d barely gotten any sleep as I’d watched the sun rays crawl over the warped wooden floor, hoping they would stop before they could reach where I was tucked away in the corner in the heart of the house.

On the second day, I’d been able to sleep once I’d made sure the daylight wouldn’t reach me once the sun rose.

Tonight, on my third day here, I’d finally seen Henry in my dream.

Not a dream—a vision, I corrected myself, my brows knitting.

Everything that I’d seen had truly transpired; I was sure of it.

It seemed I’d finally established my connection to the world around me and had been able to tap into the constant current of information.

I’d been able to grasp the thread connected to Henry, and it had led me to Stern’s lair in the Southern region, where Henry was being kept…

in the pool of his own blood, chained to the wall next to the table holding the rusted instruments being used to make him bleed and suffer.

My stomach churned, and I rested my head against the wall, breathing through the nausea.

“I’m coming for you,” I rasped, talking to Henry.

Tonight was the night. It had to be. I’d been practicing my magic every night since I’d gotten here.

My powers had grown stronger over the past three days, though the art of glimmering still eluded me.

Damien hadn’t found me during all that time.

Celeste hadn’t come for me, either, which was very unsettling.

She had to know where I was. After all, her connection to the threads was much stronger than mine.

She hadn’t come to collect me because she was planning something.

That was the only explanation for why she’d left me alone.