Page 42

DAHLIA

“ I t’s time to wake, Dahlia.”

The voice must be Alaric’s—who else would be telling me to wake?—but something feels off, some instinct deep in my bones warning me that something is wrong. I claw my way up from the darkness, not sure why it feels so heavy, almost like I drank too much last night, though I don’t remember doing so…in fact, I don’t remember much of anything.

“Come on, now,” the voice beckons again. And though everything in me is telling me that this is wrong, that I should stay in the darkness as long as I can, I pry open my eyes. I blink several times to clear the spots from my vision. A face slowly comes into focus and I scream, scrambling backwards only to hit something hard behind me.

A Revenant squats in front of me, smiling widely. His black fangs are sharp and glinting in the low light. I swallow hard as instincts flare to life, instincts born of months of training. I try to remain as calm as possible, forcing a deep, settling breath in and out of my lungs. My mind works surprisingly quickly, already confirming that the thing must not want me dead, or he would have killed me while I was unconscious. Of course, the reasons he might want me alive send a sickening wave of nausea roiling through my stomach, but I clamp my lips tightly and push the feeling away. As long as I'm alive, I can fight. As long as I'm alive, I have a chance…no matter what he might have planned.

I dart a glance around the space, not wanting to take my eyes off of the monster for too long. I’m on the cold, dirty floor of what looks to be a cell of some sort, but much larger than what I imagined a dungeon room would be. The walls are made of dark, craggy stone, and there’s an open door made of iron bars on the other side. Chemical torches burn in a few iron sconces hammered into the stone around the room. I look down to find that I’m shackled to a bar running the length of the back wall, lengths of chain connected to thick metal cuffs that encircle each wrist uncomfortably.

I cringe away from the monster before me, and his crimson eyes dance with amusement and…triumph. My stomach churns violently at that expression but I try to keep my thoughts from running away, to use everything that Nova and Wesley taught me to stay calm and in control.

“I thought perhaps the leech gave you a bit too much,” the Revenant muses. The leech ? I frown and he arches a brow. “Don’t you remember?” he asks in a mocking tone. My brow furrows as I try to pull the last memory from the fog in my mind. Alaric and I had argued over my turning…I’d stormed from the cabin in a huff and gone to the pond…and then Highspear?—

I gasp as I finally remember: the feigned threat, the sharp pinch at my neck, the heavy feeling settling over my entire body. He’d given me some kind of drug and brought me to a Revenant? But…why? My brain is whirling, trying to fight past the panic to find the right answer, until it finally becomes clear as glass:

Traitor.

The Revenant chuckles, the sound like carriage wheels rolling over gravel.

“Ah, figured it out then, have you?” I don’t understand everything, but I know that I’ve been betrayed and understand enough to know that nothing good is going to come from me being in this place with a Revenant. How long have I been unconscious? Does Alaric know that I’ve been taken? Does he know where I am? Terror starts to rise, but I press it away. Wesley told me to think of the fear as a physical thing inside my mind, something that I could imagine taking in my hands and putting away in a closet or trunk, and closing it up tight until it's time to deal with it.

So I do as my dear friend instructed and imagine the fear as a large black stone. I imagine putting it inside of a heavy, iron box with an even heavier, iron lock. I imagine turning the key and then burying that box far beneath the earth behind the cabin, near the cairns that still stand in memory of Kane, Descartes, and Isaiah. My friends can guard this fear for me until I’m ready to face it.

And, unbelievably, it works. I feel an almost cold detachment from the fear, as if it isn’t mine for the time being, not a part of me at all. I press my shoulders back and rise to my feet. The Revenant watches, unconcerned with my movement, and rises as well. He’s not quite as tall as Alaric, and has a rangier build, but I know he’ll still be incredibly strong and agile. All Revenants are, as all vampires are. The legends say that the two species were one and the same long, long ago, but at some point, the Revenant line somehow split off and they became what they are now. It’s why they’re so similar: both supernaturally strong and fast; both have keen senses, fangs, and a thirst for blood; both can be poisoned with silver.

“What do you want with me?” I ask, surprised by the lack of tremble in my voice.

The Revenant studies me for a long moment, and I force myself not to squirm beneath his gaze. I am a Consort. I am the High General’s mate. I am Dahlia fucking Clayburn, my father’s firebrand. I will not be cowed by this monster, not like before. I jerk my chin up in defiance and something flashes in his crimson eyes. Amusement, a touch of admiration and surprise, and…something else I don’t want to name, something that makes my stomach churn.

He ignores my question, and instead says, “You know, I wasn’t sure what to make of a leech coming into my territory, claiming to want to betray his own kind all those months ago.” Despite knowing the truth, I deny his words, hoping that somehow I’m wrong, that I’m misremembering or that Luca had a reason for what he did and then someone else came and took me…

“No. No, I don’t believe you. None of Alaric’s soldiers would betray Braxhlem like this. They would never work with something as vile as you.”

“Hmm, is that so?” He turns and nods towards the door and a few moments later, Luca steps into the cell. The vampire somehow looks proud and ashamed all at once, and something deep inside of me tears free from its cage. It wasn’t a mistake. He did this. And he’s proud of himself for bringing me here? After I was kind to him? And what of the vow he made to Alaric? To break that is beyond incomprehensible.

“You fucking bastard!” I scream. I lunge at him as he steps up beside the Revenant, something primal and animalistic taking over my body and roaring inside of me to tear his fucking throat out. The chains pull taut and yank me backwards before I can get my hands on him. He has the decency to look guilty, but that doesn’t do much to assuage my rage. He tenses and averts his gaze.

“How could you?!” I roar, seething and pulling at my chains until the metal bites painfully into my wrists, the sharp metal cutting into my skin and drawing blood, but I don’t care. I keep pulling, desperate to tear him to pieces.

“Oh, I quite like this one,” the Revenant muses. “She’s much changed since the first attack,” he says, studying me in a way that makes my skin crawl. “Not at all the meek, worthless creature they described. Hid under a carriage, did she not? Cowered like a dog?”

I grind my teeth, knowing that he’s not entirely wrong and being all the angrier for it. I cut my eyes back to Luca, fury spiking as all of the pieces begin to click into place like those wooden puzzles da made when Enid and I were young.

“You were involved in that as well then? That’s why you looked so guilty when I first met you??” No answer. “And now you’ve drugged me and kidnapped me and brought me to this creature? Why? How could you do this?” Again, he doesn’t respond. “Fucking answer me!!” I scream.

He finally snaps his gaze up, all guilt gone, his eyes blazing with a fury I wouldn’t have thought him capable of.

“Because I am more than a worthless foot soldier!!” he yells, fangs snapping free. All of those boyish, innocent features that made me once feel sympathy for the vampire disappear, transforming into something dark and desperate and feral. “He didn’t think I was worthy of being a sergeant, passed me over time and time again! He never picked me for important missions. He didn’t even think I was worthy of guarding his precious little Consort! But I AM FUCKING WORTHY!!” I flinch back as he roars. He’s breathing hard and the Revenant watches on with a look that’s a mix of annoyance and pity and disgust.

“How?” I demand. “How did you orchestrate the attack on the road? How did you get me from the camp with no one noticing you carting my limp body around??”

“I have wielder blood in my family,” he says, shoving his shoulders back proudly. “I hid the truth so that I could be turned.” Wielders are rare these days and are forbidden from turning. There were many instances years ago where wielders attempted, and when the vampiric magic that made the turning possible bonded with the magic in their blood, their gifts became too strong to be contained. Their bodies were literally ripped apart from the inside, like a dam bursting from all of the raw power. I don’t know why Luca was able to withstand the turning. Perhaps his wielder magic was all but dormant until after he turned, like the vampiric magic powered his own somehow? I suppose it doesn’t really matter either way. He survived and now we’re here. No use dwelling on the whys and hows of it all, at least not in this moment. If I live past tomorrow, maybe I’ll think on it more.

“I can shade objects completely and hold a shield for a time.”

“Shade…” I frown and then gasp when realization hits. “You were able to hide the Revenants and sneak them through the pass, to hide their scents from the vampires and get them past the guard stations.”

Luca grins, a wild gleam in his eyes. “Exactly. And the High General tried to say that I wasn’t good enough?! I brought his enemies into his home right under his nose,” he adds smugly.

Before, I’d had the urge to protect this vampire, to befriend him and try to ease his feelings of not belonging and disappointment. No longer. Now, I want him to hurt. Now, I want him to fucking bleed and I make the silent vow that one day, I’ll make that happen. For now, I’ll settle for using the barbed tongue of mine that mum always loathed. I think in this situation, even she would turn a blind eye.

I huff out a mocking laugh. “A mere dozen or so Revenants? If you were truly powerful, truly worth much of anything at all, you’d be able to sneak a whole contingent of Revenant forces into Braxhelm, to overtake the camp and then the entire continent easily. And alas, your plan failed . I was right to pity you, you pathetic little worm.”

The jibe hits just as I intend, and Luca’s face flushes with anger and shame. Despite everything, I smirk at him then, pulling myself up to my full height and looking down my nose at him the way a true Consort should, the way a prince’s fucking mate should.

The Revenant laughs in earnest then, making Luca flush even more.

“I can see why Alaric so enjoys you, little human. I’m so glad you’ll be with us for the foreseeable future.” My blood goes cold and the fear pounds on the top of the box beneath the earth. I will it away, beg my fallen guard to keep it under lock and key.

“Chieftain Kilgren,” someone says, striding into the cell. I blink at that, barely stifling a gasp when I realize who’s standing before me. Not just any Revenant—their fucking leader . I’m in much bigger trouble than I thought, and despite my best efforts, my hands begin to tremble.

“The message has been delivered,” the other Revenant says, stopping on the other side of Kilgren and tossing a disgusted look at Luca. Whether because he’s a vampire or a traitor or both, I can’t be sure.

“Good,” Kilgren says. “Good. Prepare the men. We’ll be heading to the Plain soon enough. I have no doubt of what the answer will be.” He grins wickedly and the Revenant nods, looks me over once, and then hurries from the room. Kilgren turns to Luca. “Go prepare yourself, leech. There is a human waiting for you in your chambers. You will need all of the strength you can muster. Do not make me remind you what will befall you if you fail.”

Luca pales slightly and nods, cutting his eyes to me for a brief moment, almost looking like he might apologize, before scurrying from the room.

Kilgren casually pulls over a chair from the corner of the room and settles himself into it. He somehow makes it seem as if he’s sitting upon a throne instead of a misshapen wooden relic that looks like it’s been gnawed on by rats. I swallow bile and can’t stop my eyes from darting around, swearing I can feel the rodents staring at me from the shadows.

“Whatever you’re planning, it won’t work,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster.

“Do you know how my kind rise to power?” he asks, catching me completely off guard. I don’t answer, but he acts as if I had, continuing the conversation as if we’re old friends having a pint at the tavern. “We take it. A new leader must challenge the current one—a fight to the death. If one should perish on the battlefield or of some other cause, two potentials must step up and fight. The power must be taken, one way or another. Revenants are all linked, all bound by an ancient magic that came about when the old single species split into two. You see, vampires are not forced to serve and obey their leaders. They have free will, the ability to strike out on their own should they wish. They are honor bound to obey, but long ago, there was a vampire who thought it should be more than honor. He believed that whoever lead the clan should have complete power and control over the members. The details are murky as to the exact dark magic that the vampire invoked in order to try to force others to follow him, to magically tie their allegiance to his rule, but whatever it did caused a rift in the entire species. A new one emerged, though a bit disfigured as a consequence of such darkness,” he says with a smirk, “one that follows that magic to this day.”

I simply stare at him, confused why he’s giving me a history lesson. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, red eyes shining like flames in the dim light of the cell.

“Do you know who the last Chieftain of our people was?”

“They don’t teach monster politics in the schoolhouses in Braxhelm, in case you weren’t aware,” I spit. I bite the inside of my cheek, knowing that I need to tread carefully. He kidnapped me for a reason, so I don’t think he’ll kill me—yet—but that doesn’t mean he won’t hurt me. Thankfully, he looks more amused than offended.

“My father. I challenged my own bloodkin to a fight to the death to take control of our people. He failed to defeat Alaric and his gods forsaken army. He brought shame to our family time and time again. So, I challenged him, ripped out his entrails with my bare hands, and brought every Revenant to heel under my command. There were some who had been speaking of peace between the species, and my father was actually listening to them! Peace ,” he says, spitting the word as if it were the most vile thing he could imagine. “They did not want to follow me, yet here they are, following like good little dogs.” He gestures to two Revenants standing guard outside the door. One clenches his jaw, the other gives no reaction at all, looking sullen.

My mind is reeling. Could this be true? Not all Revenants wanted the war to continue? Not all of them are…evil? I can’t even begin to contemplate what that might mean.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“Because I need you to understand the lengths that I am willing to go to in order to win this war, to finally lead my people to a victory that no other Revenant before me could. I eviscerated my own father, Dahlia. There is nothing I will not do to take Braxhelm. Nothing .” I swallow hard, his words leaving a hollow feeling in my chest with their cold truth. I know that he will stop at nothing to win this war. I realize his plan a moment before he speaks again and I nearly collapse.

“Now, I’m going to use you to make Alaric surrender—which he will, of course. You have no idea how elated I was to hear the news that he had a mate, explaining his miraculous recovery from the silver.” His lips curl into a snake’s smile. “A mate is a vampire’s greatest weakness, you see.”

I had always thought of mates as a strength, never realizing just how wrong that was until now. I’m a bargaining chip, one that Alaric is physically incapable of leaving in danger.

“And after he does,” Kilgren continues, “I’m going to make him watch as I torture you to the very brink of death, over and over and over, using his own blood to heal you so I can start again. It is nothing personal, of course. As I said before, I actually quite enjoy your spirit. This is simply business and vengeance, which are honestly one and the same, are they not?”

Panic rises in my chest at the thought, not for fear of my own pain, but of Alaric’s. I can’t let him go through that. I would rather die. I know that will hurt him too, but it will be quick at least, a pain he can learn to grieve, I hope. Watching me be tortured will be torture for him, and I can’t allow that to happen. I wonder if I can goad Kilgren into lashing out, into ending this before it begins. Worth a try…

“You’re pathetic,” I spit. “How long ago did you kill your father? Hmm? It’s been a century at least, has it not? And yet here you are, still hiding out in this frozen wasteland like a scared pup. You failed in your attempt to kill me on the road. You failed in your attempt to kill Alaric with that silver. You. Have. Failed. Over and over and over again. You’re just as pathetic as your father w?—”

A crack echoes off of the stone around us as his palm connects with my cheek. I tumble sideways from the force of it, the pain taking a moment to register, but when it does, it feels as if someone’s put a hot poker to my face. My ears ring, my eyes water as black spots fill my vision, and I taste blood in my mouth. A second later his hand is around my throat, tugging me back upright. He lifts me so that the very tips of my boots scrape frantically on the floor. I pull on the chains, trying to reach his wrist, even though this is what I want. The desire to live is a powerful one, it seems.

He tilts his head, studying me. A small smile tugs his lips upward.

“You will not taunt me into killing you, Dahlia. But make no mistake: I will not allow disrespect from a vile little human. I promised Alaric you would be alive when he arrived—not that you would be whole .” I swallow hard against his hand, still squeezing ever so slightly, and his smile widens. “I think we’ve reached an understanding, yes?”

I nod as best as I can and he releases me. I tumble to the floor, gasping for air.

“Now, I must prepare. Alaric should be responding to my invitation shortly—though, we both know what his answer will be.” He winks—fucking winks— and strides out of the cell. The door slams shut behind him with an echo that sends a shudder deep into my bones.

I let out a strangled sob when I hear his footsteps disappear, doubling over as I try desperately to get air into my lungs. He’s going to win. He’s right. I know that Alaric will do anything to keep me safe, even knowing that Kilgren will never keep his word about not harming me if Alaric surrenders.

This can’t happen. I can’t let him forsake all of Braxhelm for me. I have to stop this. I pull my knees up in front of me and wrap my arms around them, sobbing quietly as I realize the truth:

There’s not a damn thing I can do. Braxhelm will fall, my friends and family will die, Alaric will suffer a fate worse than death—and it’s all my fault.