Chapter Sixteen #2
I flipped to the Whitlock lineage and found Sara-Kate’s name circled and underlined, appearing to be a distant fifth cousin of Nico.
My blood ran cold. Here was irrefutable proof that Sara-Kate did, in fact, come from a prominent Bloodwright line.
And Alaric had lied to me about it. He had this book before, possibly made these notes, and looked me in the eyes and told me I was being paranoid about Sara-Kate.
Tears stung the back of my eyes as I rushed to put the papers back where I found them, too upset to keep looking—and realizing the rush of emotions was cascading down the bond made it clear to Alaric I was upset.
There was no way he’d leave me right now.
I’d have to come back here later when I was calmer to read more.
But before I placed the book back in its warded hiding place, I glanced at my own family line, the fear of what I would discover overwhelming me for a moment.
Just as Sara-Kate and Ashe’s names had been circled and underlined, mine was also there next to Uncle Dan’s, listed as a direct descendant of the prominent Pollard line. There was an annotation written to the side of my name in red: “Line intact. Twinflame possibility.”
I shoved the book away, gathering my things as I made a beeline for the front of the school where Alaric and Sara-Kate waited. I pulled the book I had checked out from the library earlier that day to show as my excuse for taking so long.
I fought the tears that threatened to fall; my bond to Alaric softened the closer I got to him, but also stabbed me in the chest. He knew. He knew and had been watching, and said nothing, did nothing. For Ashe and now for Sara-Kate. Why?
I wanted nothing more than to confront him, shove him, scream in his face and demand he tell me why he lied to me, why he didn’t do more for Ashe, why he was refusing to help Sara-Kate.
Why was he making notes of possible emergences but not doing anything to help those who emerged? But I couldn’t. Not yet.
I was going to the cabin with Alaric this Friday. Alone and away from the Council or anyone who could overhear or intervene. I’d have to wait until then to get the truth out of Alaric.
But there was still one person I could confide in until then. Uncle Dan.
I’d be an idiot to think that Alaric didn’t notice anything was off with me.
When I had returned to the front of the school, he arched his eyebrow in question, the sudden relief in his eyes displaced with suspicion.
I made an excuse that I got tied up with the librarian, but I had a feeling he didn’t believe me, the bond tying us together pulling painfully, like he knew I was lying but wasn’t going to call me out on it. At least not yet.
Alaric walked me home in stilted silence, not reaching for my hand like we had grown accustomed to doing whenever we walked together.
The natural inclination to touch was as easy as breathing now that we were bonded, but at the moment there was an unspoken barrier between us.
He walked me to the elevator, then quickly made his exit.
He turned and disappeared before I had a chance to even say goodbye.
I watched his parting figure through the closing doors of the elevator; the tether connecting us felt strained and breakable.
When I made it to the apartment, I was surprised to see Dan striding from the kitchen to his office, a cup of coffee in his hand. I dropped my bag by the front door, tearing after him. He sloshed his coffee when he turned to sit, surprised to see me so suddenly behind him.
“Damn it, Mari,” he swore, placing the cup down, careful not to get it on any important documents. “You scared me.”
“I need to talk to you.” I ignored his comment, the tone in my voice turning urgent. Dan nodded, gesturing for me to close the door. I could hear Tiffany humming from the kitchen as she and Iris prepared dishes for the upcoming Thanksgiving dinner we were to have as a family of three.
His hands gestured in the direction of the secret room as he maneuvered the book on the shelf, activating the mechanism that opened the hidden door.
I made a beeline for the room, only feeling like I could take a proper breath when he closed the door behind him and nodded for me to sit at the old wooden desk.
The same one where I had found my father’s ring missing.
“I think Alaric may also be aware of the rising emergences.” I spoke bluntly, and the panic I was trying to calm only rose higher and higher within my chest.
Dan’s eyes widened. “What makes you think that?”
I quickly explained my suspicions about Sara- Kate: how I was worried about her possibly emerging as a Bloodwright and how I’d brought it up to Alaric, and how he dismissed it.
I then confessed to sneaking in here to take my father’s ring, hoping maybe it could act as some sort of protection for her, but when I came to get it from this room, I found it gone.
His eyes grew wide, glancing frantically around the room. He began searching more drawers at the desk and then various old books.
He sighed. “It looks like everything else is here. But why would Alaric take the ring? And how did he manage it? I was with him the entire time I was showing him this library.”
“Think Uncle Dan,” I replied. “Was there a moment when Tiffany asked you to step out? Did you take a phone call?”
Realization made his face fall as he rubbed his hands together anxiously. “Richard called me. I just stepped out for a moment.”
“So he did have the opportunity.”
“I was gone less than two minutes.” Uncle Dan tried to reassure himself. “And the magic shouldn’t have allowed him in.”
“Is it because of the Twinflame bond?” I asked.
“No, you weren’t bonded yet,” he reasoned. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
Dan rubbed his temples, muttering about how Alaric couldn’t have had time to dismantle such layered protections of such an advanced Bloodwright. But the words barely registered. My thoughts spun in tight, frantic circles.
What if it wasn’t Alaric at all? What if it was me? What if I was the reason he could so easily get inside the room? I’d been able to slip past his wards this afternoon in the library—who’s to say he hadn’t done the same before now, being far more experienced than me?
The Twinflame tether hadn’t been official then, but even before the bond solidified, I’d felt him tugging at me—threads winding tighter, sparks burning hotter.
The ring he gave me had tied us together, however briefly.
Could he have used that as a bypass? A lockpick of sorts?
Could my own emerging magic have let him slip through, tricking the wards into believing it was me who entered?
The thought made me sick. Worse, it made me wonder what Alaric had really wanted when he agreed to be bonded.
Was it what he said that night in the chamber hallway .
. . or was I just another tool he could use—my blood, my magic, my bond—nothing more than a key to doors I didn’t even know existed?
Did he see me as his father did? Just another weapon to use against the Stonebound?
But then why take the ring at all? What good could it do for him or his father?
I pressed a hand to my chest; the bond pulsing faintly, as if Alaric could sense my spiraling panic. The idea was unbearable: that my connection to him—or even my heritage—was the reason he could bypass Dan’s protections.
“I don’t know.” I shook my head, forcing myself back to the present.
“But I decided to do my own digging. I went back to the special editions room in the library and found that same ancient tome Alaric had hidden in there when he first told me about being my mentor and what it meant to be a Bloodwright.”
Dan studied me for a moment, his brows knitting as if he wanted to ask what else was wrong, but he let it go. He sat back, furrowing his brow.
“He took a book out of the Council chambers? And yet he seemed shocked by my own little library.”
“But there was more in the book than just information,” I continued. “There were lineage and genealogy charts with notes written in the margins. My name was there and yours, and Sara-Kate’s, Michelle Nelson’s, and the girl Ashe who supposedly killed herself.”
“Wait, slow down.” Dan looked as if he were about to pass out. He sat swiftly in the chair opposite me. “You said the Nelson girl’s name was in there?”
I nodded. “You were right, Uncle Dan. I think the murders and mysterious deaths that have been happening have to do with Bloodwright emergence. I think someone is forcing them to emerge like you said. And maybe Alaric and his father know but aren't doing anything about them.”
Dan folded his hands, tucking them beneath his chin as he sat quietly, thinking deeply. My heart pounded, the bond to Alaric sharpening again, as if he could sense my anxiety. Just as Dan was about to respond, we heard the distant voice of Tiffany from the kitchen through the walls.
“Dan! Come here! I need your taste buds for this!”
He sighed heavily. “We will talk about this later. But we need to get that book and look at those charts. We will go after dinner tonight.”
“Back to the library?” I whispered as I hastily followed him out of the Bloodwright room. “How can we get in?”
“Seeing that Aunt Tiffany still has a key from when she helped renovate the library last spring, I think we can manage it,” he replied quickly. “Hopefully, they haven’t changed the locks since then.”
I nodded silently, following him into the kitchen where Tiffany greeted us happily, completely ignorant of Bloodwrights and Stonebounds and the death that seemed to follow us every step we took.
“Oh, good, Mari! I thought you’d be with Alaric or Sara-Kate.
” She beamed, her smile wrinkling the edges of her hazel eyes.
Seeing her so happy, so carefree made my chest tighten.
“I’m gonna need your taste buds for this too.
Iris and I are trying a new recipe for the green bean casserole, and we’re not sure if this seasoning works. ”
I forced a smile, alongside Uncle Dan, as we put our Bloodwright problems to the side and pretended to be a normal family. At least for a few hours.
When we had finished dinner and helped Tiffany taste test some dishes she was prepping, Dan made the excuse that he hadn’t spent enough time with me since I had arrived in New York and that he wanted to take me for an evening stroll around the city.
Tiffany smiled, her eyes glistening as she ushered us out the door; the idea of us bonding brought her such joy. If only she knew.
Dan whistled, calling a taxi to the curb once we were far enough away from the apartment building.
The doorman was a known snitch to Tiffany, so we had to take precautions.
We were back at the school within five minutes, Dan leading as we walked across the courtyard towards the library.
The building was locked, but as Dan produced Tiffany’s key, my heart calmed as the lock clicked and we made our way inside.
I led him up the three flights of stairs and showed him to the room.
He used the same key again, luckily able to open the door.
But when I made my way to the same shadowed corner, the glimmer of Alaric’s magical ward shimmering faintly, a sinking feeling took root in my chest. A feeling of guilt and shame, not my own, overwhelmed me for a moment.
I pushed the ward back just as I had done earlier, pulling the ancient tome out.
But as I flipped through the pages, frantically looking for the genealogy charts and Bloodwright lineage notes, I came across nothing.
It was just the tome alone; no notes, no evidence, no proof of what I had found this afternoon.
Alaric had been here. He had sensed my presence and hid the evidence before I could fully investigate it.
And instead of raging, throwing the book down, screaming in anger and betrayal, I cried.
I sobbed quietly into Dan’s jacket as the guilt and shame I felt suddenly became clear that it wasn’t what I was feeling; it was Alaric.
He knew what he had done, and he felt guilty. And I just felt broken.