Page 13 of Wicked Vows (Cursed Darkness (DarkHallow Academy) #1)

Dathan

S he knows we’re watching. She knows we’re cataloguing every movement, every expression, every flicker of emotion that crosses her face. And she doesn’t give a shit. Each bite is a small act of defiance.

Whatever Reena said, it has stirred something in our little siren. Something vulnerable, and I would kill everyone in this dining hall to find out what it is.

I lean back in my chair, letting the ambient fear of the other students wash over me.

It’s a steady, low-level hum that keeps me fed but doesn’t satisfy.

Nothing satisfies anymore except the complex cocktail of emotions that radiates from her.

Fear, defiance, anger, and something else.

Something darker that she keeps buried deep.

“She’s choosing allies,” Verik murmurs beside me, his hellfire eyes fixed on the vampire. “Building defences.”

“Let her,” I reply, savouring the way Lysithea’s shadows pool thicker around her feet when she’s agitated. “Walls make the eventual breaking so much sweeter.”

Evren says nothing, but his ice-blue eyes track every gesture she makes.

His expression speaks for him. He is besotted.

Something has happened somewhere along the line today that has made him light up.

Was it the incident with Verik and the knickers?

He seemed to enjoy that. I respect him, admire him, he is a friend, but sometimes it is hard fucking work trying to figure out what is going on in his head.

“Ev?”

He tears his gaze away from her with a questioning stare.

“What are you thinking?”

He narrows his eyes.

I stare him down. He isn’t getting away from this. I want to know what’s changed. “Do you need a pen and paper?”

He frowns and then shakes his head. He holds out his hand and weaves a spell that makes the air around him turn frosty. A skeletal raven appears on the table, its eye sockets locked on me. I raise an eyebrow when Evren places his hand on the dead bird’s head.

She is mine.

Verik’s gaze snaps to the bird as I stare at it in confusion.

“Are you talking through the bird?” I mutter.

Yes.

“Why now? Why not always?”

Because she is different.

Verik’s chair scrapes against stone as he leans forward. “Different how?”

The raven’s head tilts, an eerily fluid motion that makes my skin crawl. Evren’s power flows through it, using the construct as his voice.

Her shadows spoke to mine. Recognised something. Recognised… me.

“You aren’t supposed to fall for her,” Verik says quietly.

Like you aren’t.

Evren brings the flat of his palm down onto the bird’s head, smashing it into nothingness. He pushes back his chair and leaves us. We exchange a stare that is filled with questions that have no answers.

“Well, that was insightful.”

“Very,” Verik says, gazing back over at Lysithea. “What has our little siren done to the dead boy?”

“Enchanted him, and not in a magical sense.”

“He knows something he isn’t saying.”

“Well, good luck trying to make him tell you what that is.”

Verik snorts and gives me the finger. “Do you think he will be there later?”

“He’ll be there. Even if it’s to save her.”

We lock gazes again. “Do you think he will betray us?”

“I think he has found something he hasn’t had for a very long time, and he will be damned again if he loses it.”

“He won’t betray us,” I say, the certainty a cold weight in my gut. “He’s just as invested in this as we are. He just found a new motivation.”

“A motivation that conflicts with ours,” Verik counters, his voice laced with the heat of his blood.

“Or one that strengthens it.” I watch as Lysithea finishes her meal, every movement a deliberate, graceful act of defiance. She doesn’t look at us again. She doesn’t need to. She knows we’re here. She’s letting us know it doesn’t matter.

She stands, crossing over to place the plate on the conveyor and walks out of the dining hall. Reena gives us a final, contemptuous glance before following her out. The air in the room feels thinner without Lysithea’s presence.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, pushing back from the table. “He’ll be there.”

This entire game has changed. This ritual, meant to break the unbreakable, holds a whole new meaning now.

For Evren and me. Her hooks are firmly embedded in my skin, and I won’t do anything to lose that.

Intent is everything, and my intent has changed.

So has Evren’s. Verik won’t admit it yet, but I know he is feeling her effects after the noticeboard incident.

She challenged him, and no one even dares to think about doing that, let alone actually doing it.

This is no longer a ritual to give us immense power and bind her to our will.

It’s a ritual that will give her just as much power, and I can’t wait to fucking see that.

“We are agreed,” Verik says quietly.

“On?” I ask innocently.

“Her.” He gets up and stalks off, leaving me wondering if we truly are on the same page, or if Evren and I are going to have a fight on our hands in a few hours. Not that it matters. I have already proven I will fight to the death for her. If Verik wasn’t paying attention, then that’s on him.

This isn’t about breaking her anymore. That was the old plan, a simple, crude design.

This is about forging her. The Scar won’t just be our brand on her.

It will be her brand on us. An unbreakable bond.

Verik thinks he’s the architect. He has no idea he’s just another brick in a foundation she is about to lay.

I’m going to be right there to watch her build her fucking empire on the ashes of whomever stands in her way, friend or foe.

That’s the kind of power she has. The kind that demands loyalty even if it makes you a betrayer.

It’s the kind of power that makes gods nervous.

I walk out of the dining hall, the lingering scent of her defiance a ghost in the air. The corridors twist before me, the academy’s architecture sensing my intent. Tonight, the game changes. Tonight, we rewrite the rules.

I head for the lower levels. The Blood Pit waits, a hungry mouth in the foundations of this place. Verik sees a cage. Evren sees a queen. I see a beautiful, beautiful reckoning.

The sound-dampening wards of the pit pulse as I approach, a dull thrum I feel in my bones. They were designed to contain screams like hers. A futile effort. Nothing can contain a cataclysm.

I push open the heavy iron doors. The air inside is stale with the memory of old pain, a scent that usually excites me. Tonight, it’s just the sterile quiet before the storm.

Verik is already there, his back to me. He’s etching the binding circle onto the stone floor with a finger dipped in hellfire, the lines glowing with malevolent energy.

A perfect, precise cage. But then he does something that surprises me.

He smears a section of the cage, marring it with the imperfect smudge.

He turns to me with a wicked smile. The page has been rewritten, but we are all reading from the same script.

A patch of shadow detaches from the wall. Evren. He looks from the circle to me, a silent question in his ice-blue eyes.

I give him a slow, almost imperceptible nod. The plan has changed, and we all know it.