Chapter 32 Bronwen
Bronwen
I walked down the steps with my hand covering the open wound on my neck, praying that I wouldn’t come across a vampire before I got to Halston. I kept reminding myself—over and over—that the only real risk was running into Lavina or Simon, since the others remained deep underground.
And even they weren’t stupid enough to mess with me anymore.
August nearly snapped the chair arm in two when I told him I planned to walk through the castle alone, blood dripping down my neck. But once he heard the full plan, he knew I was right. There wasn’t a better way to get close to Halston.
I slowed my pace as I neared the dining hall. A sharp voice barked out orders beyond the heavy doors, the clank of dishes echoing behind it. Good. He was right where we expected him to be.
I grabbed the large door and began to ease it open.
“Where are the silver for—” Halston turned and froze when he saw me.
I stumbled into the room, catching myself on the nearest chair, breathing heavily, as if I could barely stay upright. It had to be believable.
His face drained of color. “What happened?”
“Augustus. He lost cont—” I paused for a breath, eyes darting around like I couldn’t focus. “He lost control and took too much.”
“Oh, dear.” He straightened, his eyes narrowing. “Well, you shouldn’t be in here. Not like this.”
“He said he was done with me!” I let tears fall as I took another weak step toward him.
The servants moved around us like ghosts, setting dishes, saying nothing. Either they were compelled or were simply pretending like nothing was happening.
Halston’s mouth curled. “Of course he was. He always tires of his toys eventually.” He moved closer, slowly, deliberately. “Do you think anyone will protect you in this castle? You smell like temptation, and not everyone has Augustus’s self-control.”
He threw up a hand as if swatting away a nuisance. “I’m sure he’d like to finish what he started. Please find your way back to him.”
“No.” I locked eyes with him and tried to mimic the blank glaze I’d seen on the servant August compelled in front of me. “He said to go to the great room. He wants a show tonight—to share his queen.” I swallowed hard. “Please. Take me there.”
Halston let out a slow, twisted laugh. “Augustus really hasn’t changed. Always playing games he doesn’t finish.”
His hand reached out, fingers tightening around my arm in a grip that bruised. The moment he touched me, I grabbed hold of him and pulled. The dining hall vanished in a blink. The air thickened with dust and parchment as the archives formed around us.
I let go.
He stumbled, disoriented—and August was already there. He plunged a stake into Halston’s chest, just shy of his heart.
August dragged him to a chair and chained him down, the metal biting into his wrists as he gasped for breath.
His struggles only seemed to amuse August. Then, with a glance that promised nothing good, August reached for the table and snatched up a blade.
That’s when I saw it—a pile of jagged wood slivers, an assortment of blades, and a long iron rod, its edges rough and splintered like he’d ripped apart a shelf with his bare hands to forge it. He’d been busy while I was gone.
August used the blade to cut into him—deep, precise gashes over his arms, legs, and neck. Slivers of wood followed each slice, wedged into place to stop the wounds from closing. Blood pooled beneath him.
“Augustus, what is this?” Halston winced, the sound of his strained laugh catching in his throat.
August leaned in close, wildness burning in his eyes. Anger and satisfaction twisted together on his face. “I used your methods.”
My stomach turned. Halston had been the one who tortured August while my parents were being hunted. I wanted to kill him right then—every part of me screamed for it—but we needed him alive for now.
His eyes flicked over August. A slow, twisted smile spread across his face, as if he recognized the predator before him and welcomed it. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“We’re looking for something. And you’re going to help us find it.”
“Oh, am I?” Halston trembled as he barely held his head up. “And what might that be?”
“The spelled blade used to transfer Carrow’s soul.”
Halston’s expression shifted. “I will tell you no such thing.”
August shrugged. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He moved like a shadow, smooth and silent, picking up the long iron rod from the table. Without hesitation, he plunged the tip into the cut on Halston’s thigh. The vampire screamed, arching against his restraints.
“That one was for every time you laid a hand on me,” August said quietly.
He leaned close and whispered something I couldn’t hear, then drove the rod into Halston’s abdomen.
Halston howled. Benedict stood at the edge of the room, unmoving.
He looked paler, as though he was forcing himself not to turn away.
His hands were clenched behind his back, and his gaze didn’t quite meet mine.
August grabbed Halston’s jaw, forcing his head up. “Where is it?”
Halston’s voice was shredded with pain. “I’ll never—”
Another strike. A blade this time, dragged with exacting control across Halston’s clavicle. Blood spilled. A splatter hit the stone beside my foot.
I should have been disgusted. I should have looked away.
But I didn’t.
Watching August unravel him thread by thread was… intoxicating. This wasn’t madness. Or maybe it was—but it was beautiful. There was a darkness in him that answered the one in me, and every time I thought I’d seen the worst of it, I only found more to want.
I stepped closer, silently, my gaze tracing the curve of his mouth as he smiled, Halston’s blood smeared across his jaw and soaking his sleeves, dripping from his hands.
It wasn’t just a smile—it was the expression of a predator savoring his kill while Halston begged.
Not for mercy—just for breath. Every day, I saw more of what he truly was.
And I liked it.
“It is the Blade of Aros.” Halston’s voice broke through the trance I was in.
I had heard that before. It was one of the things that led us to a dead end.
August’s gaze cut to Benedict, a silent order in his eyes. Benedict flinched and began rifling through the nearest stack of tomes with quick, deliberate movements until he found the right page. He passed it over without a word, and I stepped in beside them, leaning close enough to see.
August had been teaching me to read in the old tongue, but I was still learning. I couldn’t make out the entire passage, but I recognized two words—army and dead.
The one that controls the dead.
“Where is it?” August asked Benedict.
He shook his head. “I thought it was still in Alentara.”
We all turned to Halston. Even through the pain, he smiled.
“This isn’t working,” Benedict snapped.
August turned to him, blood splattered across his face, and smiled like a demon himself. “I knew it wouldn’t. It was fun, though.”
Benedict took a half-step backward, then stopped, his discomfort obvious now. “Well? What are you going to do? The name of the blade means nothing if we don’t know where it is.”
Before August answered, I spoke.
“We could get Adar to bring truth serum.”
Benedict looked at me like I had just said the most absurd thing imaginable. “Truth serum?”
“Yes, truth serum.”
“No. That won’t work,” August mumbled as he stared at Halston.
“Why not? It worked on you.”
That made him pause. He finally turned to face me, the fire dimming slightly in his gaze. “No, Winnie. It didn’t.”
The words hit me harder than I expected.
“You lied,” I whispered.
He lied back then—when I thought I was watching his truth spill out under the serum’s influence. When I believed, even for a second, that he had no choice in what he told us.
But he did. He’d let us think the drug worked. He’d played along. Perfectly.
And now I had no idea what part of that night had been real, or if any of it had.
I should have been furious. But instead, I felt that familiar, unwelcome thrill spread through my chest like wildfire.
Because it wasn’t just that he had fooled all of us—it was that he had chosen to.
Controlled it. Played the game better than anyone else in the room.
“No, I told you the truth, but I knew if I told you it didn’t work, you wouldn’t have believed me.”
That only made it worse. Or better. I couldn’t tell. I didn’t know which part of me was louder anymore—the girl who had once wanted to be good, or the woman who couldn’t stop being drawn to the monster.
“You manipulate everything.” I couldn’t help but smile as I shook my head. “Even when you’re bleeding out, even when you’re caged, you’re still pulling strings.”
His gaze flickered with amusement. “And you like it.”
“You don’t know what I like.”
“Don’t I?”
We were standing too close now. The room seemed to tilt around us, heat and blood and magic threading the air between us like wire. It was too much. But before I could say another word, Halston let out a low groan from behind him. A twitch of life he hadn’t earned.
August’s jaw tensed. He stepped back, the moment shattered. “Right,” he said. “Back to work.”
He leaned forward, his wild eyes locked on Halston’s as he gripped the arms of the chair. “Last chance to tell me where it is,” he said.
Halston spat in August’s face.
August didn’t flinch. He just smiled, slow and cold, and wiped the blood and spit from his cheek with the back of his hand. He stood and walked out of the room. I glanced at Benedict, searching for some hint of where August had gone. He only shrugged.
But August wasn’t gone long. And when he returned, he wasn’t alone.
A woman trailed behind him, her chestnut-brown hair tangled and her face streaked with tears.
At first, I didn’t recognize her. But when Halston sucked in a breath like he’d been stabbed again, I remembered—the woman he danced with at the parties.
The one he whispered to in the corners, touching her hand like it meant something.
“Do not bring her into this,” Halston rasped.
August didn’t answer. He took her by the wrist and dragged her farther into the room. Each step she took brought a new scream as her skin began to blister under the faint sunlight pouring through the high windows.
“Tell me where it is,” August said again.
Halston’s entire body was shaking. “It’s under your throne. In the great room.”
Benedict was gone. Halston glanced between the two of us and for the first time, I saw something more human in the monster than I had ever seen.
Benedict stepped into the room again with something wrapped in cloth.
He pulled it out to reveal a silver dagger with a black jewel and carvings on the hilt.
August’s eyes lit up, as if he finally saw the end. He glanced back at Halston, his grip on the woman tightening as if daring Halston to breathe wrong. “You’re not lying, are you?”
“No. That is what is used to bring Carrow back. Please just let her go.”
August stared at him for a moment before he nodded.
“Okay.” August gave her the gentlest push—like it meant nothing at all.
The sunlight caught her instantly. One step, and she erupted into flames.
Halston screamed like his soul was being ripped apart.
Benedict recoiled, slamming his back into the wall, horror carved into every line of his face.
The fire devoured her completely, and when there was nothing left, it vanished too.
No embers. No smoke. Not even the scent of ash. As if she had been erased.
August turned to me and shrugged. “Can’t have witnesses.”
I didn’t need him to say it. I stepped forward, locking eyes with Halston one last time.
The strong will he once had was gone—his body broken, his mind shattered.
I grabbed his arm with one hand, feeling the thrum of his power beneath my grip, and summoned his magic.
My other hand rose, fingers curling in the air as I willed his heart to tear free and come to me.
He didn’t scream this time.