Devour the Dark (Devourer #2)

32. Vane

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

VANE

Two Weeks Later

Before Winnie and I leave Darkland, we have a few things to wrap up. I need to know that the hat is stored in a safe place and that Roc is stabilized, and isn’t off running his fucking mouth, getting himself into more trouble.

We’ve moved into Maddred Manor.

Right now, he’s sitting across from me in the room that used to be our father’s office, and is now his.

The desk is different. The cloth and leather-bound books on the shelves are different. Even the handwoven carpet and the bar cart along the wall. All of it was chosen by Roc, and yet everything is in the same place it was when our father was the head of the house. It’s startling how everything can change, and yet the imprint of the old remains.

“Have you decided?” I ask him.

Late morning sun pours in through the double garden doors behind him. The glass has been freshly cleaned and the light hits all of the imperfections, the bubbles and the undulating waves of unevenness. The others are still in the breakfast room, gorging themselves on the food cooked and baked by Roc’s new kitchen staff. Win saw the croissants and practically melted into the floor. That girl has a weakness for baked goods. Bash has corrupted her.

Roc leans back in his chair and props his boots on the edge of the desk. He’s different this morning. And not just because he’s well-rested and no longer burdened by the witch.

He finally claimed the Darkland Dark Shadow.

I helped him, convinced the shadow would fight him like it fought me, that I would spend the rest of the night patching him up like he had when the shadow tried to claw its way out of me.

But Roc made it look easy. Just as he makes everything. He and the shadow were united from the onset. There was no infighting, no carnage or chaos. Just a pop of air, a swirl of darkness.

“How does it feel?” I asked him.

He had leaned back in the nearest chair and stared off into space for several long seconds. “I feel…calm, for once.”

I nodded. I knew exactly what he meant.

The shadows help keep our monsters at bay. No more bowing to the god of time. No more drinking blood to stave off the turn. The shadows come with their own price, but it’s much easier to pay.

The chair creaks now when Roc shifts, rolling his head along the quilted leather back so he can look over at me. “Have I made my decision?” he repeats. “Yes.”

I sit forward, elbows on my knees.

“I’m going to make a claim on my title and my right to the Darkland throne.”

I crack a knuckle, letting the information sink in.

I’m caught off guard by it. I didn’t think?—

“I can tell you’re surprised.”

“You hate obligations.”

“I used to hate obligations.”

“And now you don’t?”

“Now I have to become something else.” His gaze goes distant, in the direction of the breakfast room. He’s thinking about Wendy and Hook. Two more things I’m surprised by. I knew he had an interest in Wendy all those years ago, but I thought she was a pawn. An unwitting plaything caught in a game. And Hook? He hated the captain at one time.

I was wrong.

I suppose I was wrong about a great many things, mostly both Darling women.

“Darkland King, huh?” I say.

“There aren’t many people left to oppose me. And even if there were, I doubt they’d have the balls.”

“Juliette?” I ask.

“Nah. She won’t be a problem. She loves me, for one, and two, she had wanted to study astronomy at the Dark University. She was told she couldn’t. This will give her the perfect excuse.”

“Is this really what you want?”

He thinks again, his hands clasped over his stomach. “I’m tired of running, Vane.”

He rarely says my name. It’s too close to his, the one he was born with, the one he detests.

Hearing him say it, I realize…he has changed. He has become something more.

“Neverland will support you and your claim,” I say. “You have my word.”

He laughs. “You think Peter Pan will agree with you?”

“Leave Pan to me.”

“Gladly.” He stands up and comes over to me, waggling his fingers. I grunt and stand so he can wrap me in an aggressive hug. “Thank you for coming to my aid,” he says.

“I couldn’t have you devouring half the Seven Isles.”

“At least a third of them fuckers deserve to be devoured.”

From the breakfast room, Win calls my name. Roc and I break apart and I make my way to the door.

“You’re welcome,” I tell him, half in the hallway, hand on the doorframe. He and I have been alive a very long time. We’ve made new families, formed new friendships, but he and I are all that remain of our old life. I thought I had left that behind, but in this moment, I’m glad to have him back.

“The Madd Brothers reunited,” he says. “Go on. Your Darling calls.”

I nod and follow the pull of my own shadow, the pull of my Darling.