33. Nikolai
The sterile smell of bleach and coppermixed with the scent of forest and rain hits me the moment I push through the door to her room, but it’s instantly buried by a fresh wave of rage.
Julian Vane is sitting right next to her bed.
He looks entirely too comfortable, leaning back in a plush leather chair with one ankle crossed over his knee.
His tailored jacket is immaculate, his expression a mask of cool, aristocratic concern that makes my canines ache to drop.
He doesn’t belong here. He shouldn’t be within a mile of her, let alone sitting in the private sanctum of her recovery room while the scent of my own frantic release still lingers faintly under the antiseptic.
My chest heaves, a dark, dangerous rumble vibrating in my throat. Fenris slams against my ribs, practically screaming at me to leap over the bed and tear the leech’s throat out.
“Kill him,” my wolf snarls, his claws metaphorically gouging my consciousness. “He is sitting in our space.”
Before I can let the shadow take over, a soft rustle of sheets draws my attention to the center of the room.
Casandra is propped up against a mountain of white pillows.
Her right shoulder is heavily bandaged, the thick white gauze cutting sharply against the deep, bruised purple swelling at the edge of her collarbone.
She looks pale—too pale, even for a vampire—and there are dark, exhausted shadows mapped under her eyes.
The silver in her system is clearly still draining her strength.
As soon as her eyes lock onto mine, her entire face brightens.
A small, genuine smile breaks through her exhaustion, softening the fierce, vengeful lines of her face. It’s a look I’ve never seen her direct at me before—free of irony, free of anger, entirely unguarded.
A sudden, terrifying warmth blooms deep in my chest, a phantom heat that makes my heart skip a heavy, uneven beat. For a fraction of a second, the crushing weight of my duty and the ghost of my sister vanish. There is only her.
I completely ignore Julian. I don’t look at him, I don’t acknowledge his existence, I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his presence thuds against my sanity. I stride directly to the opposite side of her bed.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, my voice rough, carrying a jagged edge I can’t quite smooth over.
Casandra lets out a shallow, breathless laugh, her smile fading into a tired smirk. “I’ve been better,” she murmurs, her voice a bit raspy. “But it’ll take a lot more than a piece of metal to put me down. I’ll survive.”
I stare down at her, my jaw locked so tight my teeth ache. The relief that washes over me is a physical pressure, a wave of cool water over the fire that’s been consuming me since Magnus gave me the news. She’s alive.
I let out a long, heavy sigh, the tension in my bare shoulders dropping just a fraction.
I close my eyes for a brief second, forcing the image of her beneath me on the mattress to the back of my mind.
I have to do this now. If I don’t do it right this second, I will never have the strength to do it at all.
“Look,” I start, opening my eyes to lock onto hers. My voice drops, turning cold, clinical, and completely empty of the warmth that just threatened to dismantle me. “Earlier today... in your room. It was a mistake.”
The small smirk on her lips vanishes instantly. Casandra just stares at me, her eyes widening slightly as the words register. “Wha—”
“I’m here to formally reject you,” I cut her off, the words dropping between us like blocks of ice.
I stand tall, crossing my arms over my chest to create a physical barrier between us.
“There is no point in dragging this out any longer. We both know what we are. We know what is expected of me. This... this pull is an anomaly. A cosmic error. It’s better for both of us if we end it now.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
I brace myself for the explosion. I expect her to scream, to spit venom, to throw the glass water pitcher at my head. I expect her to defend the bond, or at least defend her own dignity.
But she doesn’t.
Casandra just looks at me, her eyes freezing into a hard, impenetrable sheet of crimson ice. The vulnerability I saw just moments ago is entirely swallowed by a mask of complete detachment. The warmth in the room drops to absolute zero.
She gives a slow, deliberate nod. “Alright,” she says, her voice flat, steady, and utterly devoid of emotion. “Let’s get this over with.”
A sharp, agonizing blade twists deep in my gut. It hurts. It hurts so intensely that the air catches in my throat, a suffocating pressure that makes me want to drop to my knees and beg her to take it back.
It’s not my hurt, I repeat frantically in my mind, my hands clenching into fists against my ribs. It’s my wolf’s.
“STOP IT, YOU FOOL!” Fenris bellows inside my head, his voice a desperate, agonized shriek that vibrates through my skull.
He throws his entire weight against the back of my mind, trying to fracture my control, trying to force my jaw shut before the words can leave my mouth.
“Do not do this! If you break the thread, you break us! She is our mate!”
I fight him down, sweating from the sheer physical effort of maintaining the mental iron wall. I look down at Casandra, staring directly at the small pulse point throbbing in her pale neck—the exact spot I was seconds away from tearing open with my teeth hours ago.
I take a deep, jagged breath. “I, Nikolai—”
The sudden, violent vibration of my phone in my shorts pocket shatters the suffocating stillness of the room like a gunshot.
My jaw snaps shut, the rejection dying on my tongue. I pull the device out, ready to smash it against the wall out of pure frustration, but the name flashing across the glowing screen makes my blood instantly run cold.
Father.
I look back up at Casandra. She hasn’t moved. She’s still watching me with those dead, frozen eyes, her chin tilted up just enough to be an insult. Julian is watching me too, a small, knowing smirk playing at the corner of his mouth that makes me want to punch his teeth down his throat.
“I have to take this,” I rasp, my voice tight. I take a step back toward the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Casandra doesn’t answer. She just turns her head away, staring out the window at the gray afternoon mist, effectively erasing me from her presence.
I turn on my heel and pull open the door, stepping back out into the chaotic corridor.
Magnus, Ilinca, Lukas, and the others are still standing there, their eyes instantly snapping to my me and the dark scowl on my face.
I don’t give them a chance to ask questions or eavesdrop.
I stride past them, pushing through the double doors of the medical center until I am standing outside on the damp, gravel pathway, the cold rain misting against my skin.
I press the button and bring the phone to my ear. “Father.”
“Nikolai,” my father’s voice booms through the line, heavy, resonant, and dripping with the absolute authority of the Alpha King. There is no greeting, no preamble. “I understand there was an assassination attempt on academy grounds today. A vampire girl was targeted during a survival exercise.”
“It’s true,” I say, my chest heaving as I pace a small circle on the gravel. “She was shot from behind with a silver arrow. She’s stable. The faculty is in a complete panic.”
A heavy, ominous silence stretches over the line from Norway, the kind of silence that usually precedes a severe royal decree.
“Fuck,” my father growls, a low, vibrating sound that travels through the speaker. “I’ve just received an official, furious transmission from the Corvins. They are taking this extremely personally..”
I pause, my brows furrowing. “The Corvins?”
“They are already on their way,” my father continues, his voice leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. “They’re are flying in from Romania as we speak. Your mother and I are also taking a private airplane to Blackmere immediately.”
“I—”
“Listen to me, son,” he commands. “You need to prepare to welcome them in case they land before us. When the Corvins step onto that island, you will be at the docks. You will show them the utmost respect and guarantee their safety. Do you understand me?”
My jaw works, my throat feeling like it’s been lined with sand. I look back at the medical center, the faint scent of rain still calling to my soul through the thick glass windows.
“I understand, Father,” I choke out.
“Good. We will land within a couple of hours. Be ready.”
Then the line goes dead.
The rejection will have to wait.