Page 44 of Wicked Vows (Cursed Darkness (DarkHallow Academy) #1)

Evren

M y mind is scattered. I can’t focus, so I don’t bother.

After the bell rings, signifying the end of this lecture, I get up and walk out, choosing to skip the next one.

I see Verik hovering outside, and I frown.

He gestures with his head to follow him, so I do, wondering what this is about.

We walk in silence through the hallways to the library, where Dathan is waiting.

Lysithea arrives behind us, a worried look on her face.

“What’s this about?” she asks.

Verik doesn’t reply, he simply leads us to an alcove further down the aisle. We crowd inside, Lysithea’s worry growing. The space feels too small, too confined. The walls press in with unspoken questions.

“Blackgrove pulled me in for a chat,” he says without preamble. “He knows something about the four of us.”

I tilt my head, waiting for more.

“Three very specific species, he said. Like our combination means something.” Verik continues, his frustration bleeding into the architecture around us. The bookshelves shift slightly, responding to his agitation.

“Okay, so what?” Dathan asks.

“There was a portrait in the hallway,” Verik says. “He led me a weird way to his office, through hallways I’ve never seen before. I couldn’t see the face, it was blurred deliberately from me, but the name wasn’t. Thane.”

Lysithea draws in a sharp breath.

I turn sharply towards her, my eyes burning the question into her. What does she know?

“You know the name?” Verik asks.

She nods. “After you left, the book and I had a bit of a bonding session, if you will.”

“Oh?” Dathan asks darkly.

“It showed me the previous attempts,” she says, her voice tight. “Two other groups before us. A very long time ago. Same combination of species as us. Nox Siren, Nightmare Sovereign, Hellfire Architect, Harbinger.” She counts them off on her fingers.

My blood chills. I step closer, wanting to reach for her but holding back.

“The first group’s names were barely visible,” she continues. “Ancient. But I could make out the names. Thane was one of them. He was the Architect.”

Dathan’s silver eyes narrow. “So, this has been tried before.”

“Twice,” she confirms. “And they failed. The book showed me Latin text. Three will die so that one may live.”

I share a glance with Verik. That doesn’t sound good.

“There’s more,” she says, and I see her hands tremble. “When I was looking at our names, a line appeared over yours, Evren. Dark, like it was crossing you out.”

I raise an eyebrow. That doesn’t really mean what she thinks it means. At least, my interpretation of it is different. I need to speak, to explain, but I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud. Hurriedly, I bring the raven construct into existence and wave away Verik’s questions.

He gives me the room… or alcove, as the case may be.

“It’s not what you think,” the raven says on my behalf. “I am already dead. Or have already died. Possibly both are relevant. This alters the ensemble somehow, in some way, that the book finds significant.”

“How do you know?” Lysithea asks, searching my eyes.

“It makes sense from this side,” the raven croaks. I don’t know how else to explain it. I just know.

“What do you mean ‘from this side’?” Dathan asks, his voice sharp with concern.

“Death changes perspective. The book is not marking me for death. It’s acknowledging what I already am.”

Lysithea’s face crumples with understanding. “You’re saying you’re already the sacrifice.”

I nod slowly. The truth tastes like grave dirt on my tongue.

“Maybe,” the raven says.

“Bullshit,” Verik snarls, hellfire crackling around his fingers. “You’re not dying for this fucking book.”

“Already died,” the raven replies. “Came back incomplete. Maybe that’s the point.”

“The grimoire didn’t choose us randomly. It chose us because of who and what we are,” Verik says. “Our specific set of species is relevant, but how?”

“Who is this Thane character?” Lysithea demands into the silence. “Maybe we need to find him, if he’s still alive. There is a reason you saw his name but not his face.”

“It’s someone we know. But someone who doesn’t want us to know we know,” Dathan says, and the knowledge hits us all at the exact same time.

“Blackgrove,” I say, the words torn from my throat.

“Fuck,” Lysithea moans and the books rattle around us. “We can’t ask him.”

“We don’t need to,” Verik states. “His group failed. He can’t tell us anything. We will not fail. End of discussion.”

“Fuck tonight,” Lysithea says. “We take the grimoire, and we go underground now. This is pissing me off. We need to help the Tenebris Vinculum complete its pages before it kills me, and probably two of you.”

“We need to figure out why we are relevant”, Dathan says. “Why us?”

I close my eyes as the ghost who joins us whispers in my ear. “Skills,” it hisses.

“Skills,” the raven says as I open my eyes. “The quest to complete the grimoire will require us to use our specific magic. The path to whatever is on that map will only be found by the four of us.”

“And that’s why it’s taken so damn long between the last group and us,” Lysithea says. “There was no Nox Siren.”

“Which begs the question,” Dathan says. “Where did you come from?”

It’s a fucking good question and one she has probably asked herself a million times.

The question hangs in the air like a blade. I watch Lysithea’s face crumble, see the walls she’s built around that particular wound start to crack.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, and the admission costs her. “The orphanage found me, I’m not really sure when. They never told me anything.”

“How did you end up here?” I ask through the raven.

“The orphanage manager applied for me. Blackgrove accepted me. I don’t know why…”

She rolls her eyes, and we all blow out a breath.

“Yeah, okay, we now know why,” she says.

“Looks like Thane has some explaining to do,” Dathan mutters.

I shake my head at the same time as Lysithea says, “No. We aren’t involving him. His time has passed. This is our shitshow now. We were all called here for this quest, dragged together from…” She stares at me for a long time, with no need to finish her sentence.

I nod, already having figured out that I’m here because of her.

I stare at her, the weight of that realisation settling between us.

Whatever force brought me back from that hell dimension, it wasn’t random.

It was orchestrated. Planned. I was resurrected for this moment, for her.

By someone… someone maybe named Thane Blackgrove.