Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Roth
“You’re absolutely certain he called you the forgotten queen?” I asked again from where I was sitting in one of the comfy chairs in Samara’s living room. Alaric had claimed the chair across from me while Samara and Kieran were sprawled out on the settee.
Well, Kieran was sprawled out. Samara was hunched over the low table, translating the last of Rosalyn’s journals.
“Yes, Roth,” Samara said tiredly. She’d only returned an hour ago and had announced that there would be no group dinner this evening since everyone was tired from the journey.
I kept glancing at the door to her bedroom, expecting them to knock any second, but apparently, both the prince and Vail had made themselves scarce as soon as they'd stepped foot inside House Harker.
Alaric, Kieran, and I had gathered in her rooms, and she’d told us everything that had happened—although the details of them staying the night at the outpost had been a little sparse. I didn’t think Samara was intentionally hiding anything from us. If anything, she seemed a little . . . confused?
I’d have to talk to Kieran about it when I could get him alone. Alaric wasn’t much better than me at reading people, but Kieran seemed to always know what was going on in Samara’s head.
Was it bad that Alaric and I were likely going to have to depend on Kieran for relationship advice? I frowned and then shook my head. Kieran was pretty and had a praise kink. He’d appreciate being told he was useful, which meant he wouldn’t give me too much shit about having no idea how relationships worked.
“He definitely called me that,” Samara confirmed without looking up from the page. “And he wanted me to come with him.”
“In Seelie?” Alaric asked. “You’re absolutely sure he spoke in Seelie and not Unseelie?”
Samara finally looked up from the journal to arch a dark eyebrow at Alaric. “I realize you think I’m nothing more than a pretty face with air between my ears, but between all of us, I am the person most adept at Fae languages. So yes, I’m sure it was Seelie.”
“I said that one time.” Alaric rolled his eyes. “And it was almost a decade ago.”
Samara sniffed. “It was on my sixteenth birthday, you ass. Ruined the whole party.”
The smallest smile graced Alaric’s lips as he looked at Samara with a heated intensity. “If I promise to make it up to you, will you let it go?”
I caught Kieran’s eye, and he just grinned before we went back to listening to this unfolding drama like the juicy entertainment it was.
“Yes.” Samara tilted her head as she continued to study Alaric. “I remember every nasty thing you’ve said to me though, just so you know.”
A sliver of turquoise slid through Alaric’s light green eyes. “Guess I’ll be on my knees a lot in the future then. ”
“Fuck.” Kieran slammed a book shut. “The two of you are making it really difficult to concentrate, which really isn’t fair, considering I got yelled at for suggesting we relax before diving into work.”
“Relax?” Samara laughed. “I believe your exact words were, ‘Everyone, take your clothes off. I got a jar of honey and some ideas.’”
“I still have the honey.” Kieran smirked at her.
“I’m with Kieran on this,” I said, gently setting the book I’d been scanning onto the table before leaning back in my seat.
“You want the honey?” Alaric asked in confusion.
“No, I don’t want the honey.” I paused and thought about it before amending, “I don’t want the honey tonight .”
“I think what Roth is trying to say is that we actually do need to concentrate tonight,” Samara said dryly. “Vail and I are leaving just before sunrise, and Draven has some meetings in the morning, so hopefully it will be at least a few hours before he realizes we’re gone.”
A weariness flashed across her face before she buried it. My beautiful forgotten queen was excellent at tucking away her emotions, which was a little concerning.
“We assumed the wraiths were the Unseelie Fae,” Samara continued, her eyes dropping back down to the journal she’d been translating. “I don’t know what it means that they’re actually the Seelie, or how they got shadow magic. We don’t even really know what the Seelie’s original magic was because all the texts are kind of vague about it.”
“The Seelie spent most of their time lamenting about how arrogant and devious the Unseelie were,” I said. “Most of the writings we’ve found have been Seelie, so we’re most familiar with their point of view. They rarely talked about themselves. And what we do have from the Unseelie is . . . not all that informative.”
“Because it’s all useless poetry,” Alaric griped .
“I wouldn’t say it’s entirely useless.” Samara’s lips curved into a grin, and I felt mine doing the same.
“It is strange how little we have from the Unseelie,” I mused. “Most of the Unseelie fortresses were entirely stripped of books and scrolls. Literally all that was left was poetry and a few other random texts.”
“Maybe Vail and I will finally find some answers up north,” Samara said. “Instead of just more questions.”
“We’ll keep researching while you’re gone,” I assured her. “Learning the wraiths are actually the Seelie is confusing . . . but at least we’re no longer going down the wrong path.”
Samara rubbed her face, and I could see the exhaustion of the last couple of days weighing heavily on her.
“I don’t know what the queen comment meant,” she admitted. “The House bloodlines are clearly different from most of the Moroi, but I’ve never come across anything to suggest the Harker line is more unique than the Tepes, Corvinus, or any of the others. The only queen we’ve ever had is Velika, and that was a self-appointed title.”
“Maybe it’s somehow connected to the crown?” Kieran suggested. “Seems like a strange coincidence for the wraith to refer to you as a queen while we’re also searching for the other half of a Fae crown.”
“Maybe,” Samara said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “I’m going to switch to translating my mother’s journals. I think the odds are better of us finding something useful in them.”
“I’ll get us some snacks,” Kieran offered. “Seems like it’s going to be a long night.”
“So you’re who Samara has been keeping away from me.”
I froze in my seat as Prince Draven appeared between the bookstacks at the back of the library. How had he gotten in here without me knowing? My heart was racing at finding myself in such sudden close proximity to the Moroi Prince. I willed myself to rise casually from my chair, turning my head just enough so I could glance at the double doors. Still closed. I definitely would have heard them open. There were a couple of windows in the back, but I always kept them locked . . .
“Apologies, I’m not sure what you mean,” I said tightly before adding, “my prince.”
A small, knowing smile played across his lips as he strolled down the line of bookcases on the wall, his finger trailing across the shelves. I glanced at the clock on the wall and cursed inwardly. It was late afternoon. Alaric was supposed to have kept Draven busy in meetings all day, and then Kieran was going to make an excuse for why Samara wasn’t at dinner. The hope was that we could delay Draven from knowing Samara had left until tomorrow.
I’d missed working in the library, so I had snuck in here this morning, even though I’d promised Samara I would stay in her suite while she was gone. My plan had been to only be here for a few hours and return to her rooms for lunch, but I’d lost track of time while researching.
And now I was trapped in a room alone with Draven, exactly what Samara had been trying to avoid.
Fuck. Me.
He turned away from the bookshelves and sauntered over to me, his hands in his pockets. He was like the dark mirror of Kieran with his perfectly combed hair and well-put-together outfit, but while Kieran had an easygoing charm, Draven had an intensity to him that had the hairs on the back of my neck rising.
Black and silver hair fell over his shoulder as he cocked his head and studied me. Then his eyes drifted over my features, lingering on my red hair and hazel eyes .
“You’re a Devereux.” Not a surprise he figured out my bloodline. Most of the House bloodlines had very distinctive appearances. Everyone in my family had pale skin, deep red hair, hazel eyes, and sharp features. If we were in a room together, there was no mistaking the fact that we were all related, whether I liked it or not. “Astaroth?” he guessed.
“Roth,” I said stiffly, trying to hide my surprise. Maybe he knew my name because I was the only Devereux ever to go to Drudonia. “I go by Roth.”
He smiled. “Pleasure to meet you, Roth. Do you prefer to be referred to as them as well?”
I blinked, not having expected the consideration, but nodded.
Draven shrugged. “I might have to kill you after this conversation, but there is no reason not to be polite about your preferences.”
Once again, my eyes darted to the doors, and I took a tiny step towards them.
“You won’t make it.” Draven gestured towards the table I’d been sitting at when he’d arrived. “How about we have a chat?”
His tone was still light, but his eyes were hard as he walked over to the table and pulled two chairs free so they were facing each other. Fear clamped down on my heart. Draven knew Samara was gone, and he’d decided I was the weak link in finding out where she’d run off to. Stiffly, I walked over to the chair, resolution building with each step. He would get nothing from me.
My ribbons shifted slightly on my forearms. I just needed to bide my time. All I needed was a few seconds to make it out the door and down the stairwell. Draven had been careful to keep up the persona of the charming prince around others—he wouldn’t pursue me in front of witnesses.
I hoped .
Draven folded his large frame into the chair opposite me. I looked him over quickly but didn’t spot any weapons on him aside from a coiled whip at his hip. Seemed like an odd choice for a prince. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford a flashy sword.
“How exactly did a Devereux find themselves in House Harker?” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Your House isn’t exactly known for playing nice with others.”
“I met Samara at Drudonia, and she asked if I’d be interested in doing an extended stay here for the summer. The beaches are much nicer here than further south.”
Draven glanced pointedly at my white skin that was so pale, it looked like I’d burn immediately if I stepped outside, which was accurate. More importantly, I would get freckles if I spent too much time in the sun, and I refused to have more freckles than the few I already had.
“Was Samara trying to keep you away from me because you’re researching something for her?” Bloodred lines slowly bled into the deep blue of his eyes. “Or because I can still smell her on you?”
I barely restrained myself from brushing my fingers against my neck where Samara had fed from me this morning after Kieran and Alaric had left. At some point, we’d both ended up in the washroom together, but considering what we did afterwards, it wasn’t surprising I still smelled like her.
Fuck it.
“Jealous that my tongue was deep in Samara’s cunt while she sat on my face this morning?”
“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly.
“She’s not going to marry you.” I raised my chin. “And I’m not going to tell you shit.”
Red churned in his eyes like rivers of blood, the blue a distant memory. What unsettled me more was how calm he appeared. His bloodlust was running high, but he was lounging in the chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. The only other person I’d seen who could control their bloodlust that well was Samara.
“I could make you tell me.” A cruel smile stretched across his mouth. “Believe me when I say I’m quite good at getting people to spill their secrets.”
My ribbons shifted along my forearms, the outer layer loosening a little more. “You don’t frighten me.”
His smile widened. “Lies. We both know I can hear your heart beating faster every second you’re in my presence. Where has Samara gone? I know she’s no longer within these walls, and I know that temperamental Marshal is with her.”
“Maybe she just wanted to get away from you after being forced to see your hideous face every day for the past couple of weeks?” Almost ready. Strike. Run. Find Kieran and Alaric. Whatever game the prince had been playing this week was over.
“Alright.” Draven raised a hand, flicking his fingers out to reveal nails that had hardened into sharp, black claws. “Let’s see if you reconsider after I peel the skin from your bones. I think I’ll start with the face.”
Faster than lightning, my ribbons shot forward, aiming for his eyes. I bolted up but stumbled back when his whip leapt from his hip of its own accord to slap my ribbons aside. My hesitation cost me, because when I spun to take off towards the door, something yanked my feet out from under me, causing me to slam face-first into the floor, and I screamed when a snapping sound came from my wrist as I tried to break my fall.
Draven let out a disapproving sound, and I blinked through my tears just as his brown leather boots filled my vision. Then he nudged me over until I was lying on my back, my arm clutched against my chest as I stared up at him. The dark brown leather whip hovered in the air, coiled around my blood ribbons.
“Impressive.” He toyed with the end of a ribbon before grabbing them and balling them up in his fist. “Not the best choice for a weapon though. A whip is much better.”
I bit back another scream, trembles racking my body as his whip lunged forward and its bloodred, pointed tip stopped less than an inch away from my eye.
“Tell me where she is,” Draven purred.
“No.” I clenched my jaw, pushing back the pain, and then met the prince’s stare again. “Eat shit and die.”
Something like respect flashed across his face before his eyes darted to the door. “You just had to scream, didn’t you?” I let out a relieved breath as he summoned the whip away from my face.
The doors slammed open, revealing Alaric, Kieran, and Nyx—Adrienne and Emil behind them. The last two had been babysitting me the past week, and I could tell by their expressions that they were annoyed at me.
That was fair. I was annoyed at myself too.
They’d both had things they’d wanted to take care of and had told me to stay in Samara’s room. I’d promised to do so, and I’d meant it at the time . . . but then I had remembered some books I wanted to reference in the library and had figured it wouldn’t hurt to sneak out for an hour.
Alaric’s eyes were flat and hard, and the rangers were looking at the prince like they were imagining ripping out his spine, but Kieran . . . he looked disappointed.
I laughed, wincing as the movement jostled my wrist. “You and the dark prince, eh? Didn’t know you had it in you, pretty boy.”
Kieran paled as all eyes fell on him.
“It’s”—he swallowed hard—“complicated.”
“Everything about you lot is complicated,” Adrienne growled. “I still think we should kill him.”
“Think you can?” Draven looked at her curiously, not the least bit concerned about being significantly outnumbered .
“Drav,” Kieran said tiredly. To my surprise, the prince backed off. Emil and Alaric helped me to my feet while Adrienne and Nyx continued to glare at the prince.
We all watched warily as Draven paced back and forth, his whip gliding down to coil on his hip again. My ribbons were still bunched up in his hand, the ends of them dragging on the floor.
“FUCK!” Draven picked up a chair and slammed it onto the ground. It shattered into several pieces, and he threw what remained in his hand at the table before spinning around to face us. “Tell me where she is. Now .”
The rangers stepped forward, swords in hand. There was so much tension in the room, I could feel my bloodlust rising.
Alaric was a rigid wall at my back, but Kieran moved until he was standing in front of Draven and cupped the prince’s cheek with his hand. “Tell us why, Drav. I love you . . . but I can’t trust you.”
“Well, shit,” I muttered. “I just thought they were fuckin’.”
“My mother wants Samara,” Draven admitted reluctantly. “She’s run out of patience. I received a letter from her this morning telling me to bring the Heir to her.”
“Why?” Kieran stiffened.
“I’ve been buying time, telling her Samara was considering the proposal.” Draven stepped away from Kieran and resumed pacing while running a hand roughly through his hair. “She’ll know Samara has left and she’ll send her guards after her. And Erendriel—” Draven cut himself off as pain flashed across his face. He spoke the next few words carefully, like he was testing how much he could say. “The wraiths will be after her too. You have to tell me where she went, Kier.”
“We’ll go and get her,” Nyx said.
Draven shook his head. “The woods will be crawling with wraiths soon, if they’re not already. You’ll be cut down before you ever reach her. It has to be me. ”
“Why do you stand a chance?” Emil asked.
The prince smiled. “I’m more than just a pretty face.”
“My ribbons,” I spat and held out my uninjured hand.
Draven glanced at me and then down at my ribbons still in his hand. Then he loosened his fingers, and my ribbons shot towards me before I pushed them back with a thought. Kieran yelled as one ribbon wrapped around the prince’s neck and the other wrapped around the whip that instantly lunged up to defend the prince before wrapping it around a chair.
Magic flooded the room as the prince rose several feet into the air, his claws tearing into my ribbons, but I just coiled more length around his neck.
“Roth!” Kieran screamed. “Let him down!”
“Still think my ribbons are useless as weapons?” I snarled and flung my good hand out to the side. The prince crashed into an empty bookcase before collapsing to the floor. Then I called both ribbons back to me, and they swiftly wrapped around my forearms, looking a little worse for wear.
Draven slowly got to his feet, rubbing his neck with one hand while reaching the other for his whip, which instantly leapt to his hand. Kieran slid between me and him, a worried look on his face. The rangers raised their swords a little higher, and to my surprise, Alaric moved to stand in front of me too.
“Relax,” Draven said smoothly, tucking his whip back to his side. “I’m not going to kill them. Samara would be pissed. She clearly likes the Devereux outcast .”
My ribbons rustled on my forearms, and Alaric gave me a censuring look over his shoulder. I gave him a cool one in return, and his lips twitched in response.
I stepped around Alaric and moved towards Draven. “Tell us why we should tell you,” I demanded. “We know you’re hiding things from us, and while Samara and Kieran believe there’s something redeemable in you, I remain unconvinced. ”
“Same,” Alaric said as all three rangers muttered their agreement.
Draven regarded me for a long moment before stretching a hand to me, palm up. “May I?” His eyes lowered to my injured arm that was still pressed against my body. Slowly, I extended it until my wrist rested in his palm.
He held my gaze as he raised his other hand to his mouth and sliced open the tip of his finger. I watched as he drew the glyph for healing on my skin, surprised by how light his touch was. Then a sharp exhale rushed out of my lips when I felt the magic from his blood sink into my flesh.
“What are you?” I breathed out.
“Something that shouldn’t exist,” he said tightly. “My secrets are my own, but trust me when I say I am uniquely suited to fight against wraiths.”
I pulled my arm away from him and tentatively flexed my wrist. It was a little stiff, but other than that, it was completely healed. There was something off about his magic though. I’d felt the magic of other Moroi before. Draven’s was different. It was . . . more.
Powerful. Chaotic. Wicked.
“Swear it,” I said. “Swear on your soul that you will protect Samara from whatever is coming.”
Alaric started to object, but I held my hand up, cutting him off. I wouldn’t shed any tears if Draven met an untimely end, but I suspected Samara would, and I didn’t want her to be sad, because I felt . . . things about her. I scowled at Draven, and he smiled at me in understanding.
Ugh.
“I’m not a good person,” he said evenly. “There are reasons I am the way I am and I’ve done the things I’ve done, but none of them truly excuse anything.” His eyes, which were still more red than blue, held my own without wavering. “But I promise you with every piece of my broken soul that I only want to protect Samara from what is to come. I will do whatever I have to, to protect those I love.”
I glanced at Kieran, who was staring at Draven like he wanted to wrap the dark prince in his arms and whisk him away from everyone. Adrienne had been right earlier. We were a complicated bunch.
“Lake Malov,” I said. Alaric swore behind me, but I ignored him. “There is something important there, and if you care about Samara as much as I think you do, you’ll let her and Vail find it. Keep the wraiths off their backs until then.”
Draven’s lips pursed together but he nodded. “I can do that.”
“I’ll come with you,” Kieran said.
“No.” The prince shook his head sharply. Hurt spread across Kieran’s face, and Draven’s expression softened slightly. “If you’re there, my attention will be split between protecting you and protecting Samara.”
Kieran’s mouth flattened into a hard line, but he didn’t argue.
“This is insane,” Alaric cut in. “We can’t trust him to protect Samara.”
“Is it any crazier than trusting Vail to keep her safe?” Nyx asked softly. “He’s almost killed her twice.”
My head snapped around so quickly, it hurt. “What the fuck are you talking about?”’
They blinked. “You didn’t know? Vail left Samara to be monster food for the kúsu, and things got a little out of hand at the temple.”
“He attacked her,” Alaric growled.
“But he also saved her,” Kieran said. “Both times.”
Nyx rubbed their forehead. “Does it count as saving if he was the danger in the first place?”
I should have kept her tied up in bed. Samara would have been pissed about it, but at least she would have been safe .
“Go,” I told Draven. “Protect her.”
The prince traded glances with Kieran before striding towards the door, the rangers hesitating for a moment before stepping aside to let him pass.
“Prince?” Draven paused mid-step and looked over his shoulder at me. “I don’t give a fuck what you are or what type of magic you have. If you betray Samara . . .” Alaric and Kieran moved to stand next to me as I let my own bloodlust rise, knowing it would turn my eyes into a fiery orange. “If you hurt her, we will make you suffer in ways you can’t even dream of.”
The Moroi Prince smiled. “Good.”