34. Chapter 34
34
Chapter 34
Bronwen
It couldn’t be.
My father had always spoken of the king as a protector, an ally to our people. But this—this was a betrayal that ran deeper than anything I could comprehend. The air felt colder, sharper, as if the realization had sucked the warmth from the room.
I had grown up believing the king was a distant but benevolent figure, untouchable in his castle yet a presence that loomed over us all. But now I saw the truth for what it was—a carefully woven lie. He was no different from the creatures we hunted. Worse, he had ensured his survival by hiding behind his crown, behind a kingdom that unknowingly protected the monster within.
The weight of it all pressed against my chest, suffocating in its enormity. This wasn’t just about vengeance anymore. This wasn’t just about undoing the past. How could I kill someone who had built a throne out of his immortality? How could I fight someone who never left the protection of his castle walls?
A tremor ran through me. The realization settled deep in my bones, thick and suffocating.
There was no way I could kill him.
Frustration boiled over as I pushed myself from the table, grabbing the journal and hurling it across the room. But August moved in a blur, catching it mid-air before it hit the wall. He carefully closed it and set it on a shelf, his calmness only feeding my growing despair.
I shook my head as I began pacing the room, my steps quick and uneven. No matter what I did, I would never reach Carrow. It was a lost effort. We would never be free from the curse Papa believed was on us.
I would never be fixed.
August stood in front of me before I even realized he’d moved, his hands firm but gentle as they cupped my face. His touch grounded me, even as my mind raced with defeat.
“Winnie,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the storm brewing in my chest. “It’s okay. We can find a way to him.”
“No.” I shook my head, my voice breaking. “No one is allowed inside the castle walls. And I’ve never used magic to go to a place I’ve never been before. We can’t get to him.”
His thumbs brushed lightly against my cheeks, wiping away tears I hadn’t realized were falling. “Then we find another way,” he said, his tone resolute. “You don’t have to do this alone, Winnie. We’ll figure it out together.”
I wanted to believe him, to let his words wrap around the crushing doubt that threatened to drown me. But all I could feel was the weight of the impossible task ahead, and the creeping fear that there might not be a way forward.
“Let’s do something to take your mind off of it. Let’s go out into the woods tonight.”
I shook my head, though the thought of the cool night air and the freedom it promised was tempting. “Papa asked that I not go into the woods at night right now.”
“Why not?”
“They found the witches,” I said, my voice quieter. “And he’s worried about my safety.”
August’s lips curled into a smirk as he leaned against the desk. “Winnie, you killed those witches. You are the scariest thing in the woods.”
A reluctant smile tugged at my lips despite myself. “That’s not the point. I’d like to respect his wishes for at least one night.”
“Well, we still have a few hours before the sun goes down. Why don’t we take a walk through town?”
I hesitated for a moment, my mind still tangled in the weight of everything I had learned. The frustration, the helplessness—it was suffocating. But sitting here and letting it consume me wouldn’t change anything. If August could pretend nothing had shifted, maybe I could too, even if just for a little while. I glanced toward the window where the sun still hung high in the sky. The thought of sitting here, drowning in my own frustration, was unbearable. With a sigh, I nodded. “Fine.”
August grinned like he’d won something, pushing off the desk with an easy grace. “Excellent choice.”
I grabbed my cloak and followed him out of his home
The world outside my worries still moved—vendors still called out their wares, the scent of fresh bread still drifted from the bakery, and children still ran through the streets, laughing as they chased one another .
August walked beside me, hands tucked into his coat pockets, eyes scanning the people around us with something bordering on amusement.
For a moment, I let myself forget. I let the normalcy seep into me, dulling the sharp edge of my thoughts, until the sound of the banner flapping in the wind above pulled me back with a violent jolt.
My gaze lifted, locking onto the raven stitched in black across the red fabric. My stomach twisted, my breath hitching as a surge of anger burned through me. That symbol had always meant something distant, something unreachable, but now, it was a mark of betrayal, of deception that stretched beyond what I had ever imagined. My hands clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. The world around me blurred, the voices of Market fading beneath the sound of the banner cracking in the wind, like a taunt I couldn’t escape.
A touch to my arm made me jolt. August. His hand was light, grounding, his gaze flicking between me and the banner before settling on my face. He had noticed. Of course, he had noticed.
“Winnie,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Come on. You’re glaring at that thing like you want to set it on fire.”
I exhaled sharply, forcing my fists to relax. “Maybe I do.”
His smirk was softer this time, lacking its usual sharpness. “Tempting, I’m sure. But unless you’re planning on taking my magic and outing yourself in front of town, I suggest we keep walking.”
I tore my eyes away from the banner, inhaling deeply to steady myself. The anger still simmered beneath my skin, but as August tugged me forward, guiding me away from the towering insignia, I let the tension slip from my shoulders. For now.
A sudden force slammed into August’s side, jolting him mid-step. A young boy, no older than ten, had barreled straight into him while chasing another child through the street. August barely stumbled, but the sharp glare he shot at the boy could have stopped a grown man in his tracks.
The child froze for a moment, wide-eyed, before muttering a quick, “Sorry, sir,” and darting off before August could say anything.
I pressed a hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter, but the amusement was impossible to contain. “Oh, the great and terrifying August, bested by a child,” I teased.
He exhaled sharply, straightening his coat with a dramatic sigh. “He’s lucky I’m feeling merciful today.”
I shook my head, grinning. “Or maybe he’s just faster than you.”
He narrowed his eyes at me before they softened. “See? This is better than sulking in that room,” he said. “I’d even buy you something sweet if I thought you’d accept it without suspicion.”
I scoffed. “I’d assume you poisoned it.”
He clutched his chest as though I had wounded him. “Winnie, I’m offended that you’d think I would kill in such an . . . impersonal way.”
A small laugh escaped me before I could stop it. The tension I had been carrying all day loosened, if only slightly. “Is that supposed to be comforting?”
He smirked. “You tell me.”
Without thinking too much about it, I turned toward the bakery, the warm scent of freshly baked bread pulling me in. August raised an eyebrow but followed without a word as I stepped inside. The interior was cozy, the wooden shelves lined with golden loaves, pastries dusted with sugar, and sweet rolls dripping with honey. A woman behind the counter gave me a kind smile as I ordered two small fruit tarts, their crusts flaky and filled with dark berry preserves.
I carried the treats over to a small table by the window, the glass slightly fogged where the warmth inside met the cold air outside. August sat across from me, watching with mild amusement as I slid one of the tarts in his direction.
“Can you eat actual food?” I asked, taking a bite of my own. The sweetness burst across my tongue, and for the first time today, something felt easy.
He twirled the tart between his fingers, then finally took a bite. “Yes,” he said after swallowing. “But it does nothing to curb my hunger.”
I paused mid-bite, my eyes narrowing. “Then why bother?”
He shrugged, licking a stray bit of jam from his thumb. That small motion made my belly warm, and I cursed myself silently. “Maybe I just like the taste.” He tilted his head, watching me with something unreadable in his gaze. “Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to sit here with you a little longer.”
I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched with the hint of a smile. I let the warmth of the bakery settle into my bones, the scent of fresh pastries lingering between us. Anything to keep my mind away from Carrow. I traced the rim of my tart absentmindedly before speaking. “What about other vampires?”
August paused, the pastry halfway to his mouth, before tilting his head. “You want other vampires to sit here with you?”
I shot him a glare. “No. I mean, can vampires feed on each other?”
He set the pastry down and leaned back, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table. “They’ve tried. But vampire blood is poison to other vampires. Doesn’t exactly make for a good meal.”
I frowned, absorbing the information. “So fire, stakes to the heart, and vampire blood?”
August smirked, watching me with amusement, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes. “It doesn’t kill them,” he said. “It puts them in a paralytic state. Long enough to make them completely defenseless.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make me shiver. “But nevertheless, add it to your arsenal, Winnie.”
As the warmth of the bakery lingered, we eventually rose from our seats and stepped back out into the cold streets. August walked beside me, his usual smirk present but subdued, as if he too was reluctant to let the moment end.
When we reached the town gates, I slowed my pace, hesitating before turning to him. “So . . . does this mean our truce is over?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
I crossed my arms, studying his face. “Our truce was for you to help me find Carrow. We found him, and we can’t get to him. That means it’s over, right?”
August’s expression darkened slightly, his jaw tightening before he shook his head. “I’m not giving up, Winnie. I don’t think it’s over.”
I searched his face for any sign of doubt, but there was none. His confidence—his stubborn belief that there was still a way forward—made my chest ache. I wanted to believe him, but all I could feel was the weight of reality pressing down on me .
Still, I found myself nodding. “Alright.”
It wasn’t agreement—it was something else. A reluctance to let go of this strange, infuriating thing between us. Because despite everything, despite knowing how dangerous he was, I wasn’t ready for this to end either.
“I have something to do tomorrow, but let’s meet after your father is asleep.”
“You’re taking what I said about respecting his wishes for one night quite literally, aren’t you?”
August smirked, tilting his head slightly as he studied me. His eyes flickered with something, his gaze dipping to my lips for the briefest moment before snapping back to mine. There was always a careful balance between us, a pull I wasn’t sure either of us entirely understood—or wanted to admit. He stepped closer, just enough that I could feel the lingering warmth of the bakery still clinging to his clothes, the contrast against the crisp winter air sending a shiver through me. He extended his hand toward me, palm up, his fingers brushing against mine for just a second longer than necessary. The touch was fleeting, barely there—yet it sent a pulse of warmth through me. He noticed—I knew he did—because the smirk that followed was slower this time, more deliberate. “Take just enough to get home. I’ll be waiting tomorrow night at our spot.”