Chapter 33 Sorin
CHAPTER 33
SORIN
“H ow are you feeling?” Sorin asked when he entered his apartment to find Scarlett laying on the sofa.
When the five minutes had expired, Scarlett had silently let him go and led him out of the Black Syndicate and back to the apartment in utter silence. That had been fine. The entire walk back he had contemplated each and every way he could kill the Assassin Lord, and which way would inflict the most pain.
Watching her today with the orphans had been something he was not prepared for. The arrogant, swaggering, whirlwind of rage he’d been training had transformed into something tender-hearted and beloved. She got on the floor and played jacks and other games with the younger kids, who delighted when she purposely lost and acted as if she had no idea how they had bested her. She had worked in the training room with several of the older kids, patient and gentle, nothing like how she had been trained either by him or her tutors in the Syndicate. Sorin had even stepped in and worked with some on basic sword training and knife throwing. Malachi, the hard and angry boy who had been there to begin with, never returned, and he could tell that weighed on her, though she never voiced it.
And if he thought he’d been unprepared for seeing that side of her, it was nothing compared to the fury that coursed through him the first time that prick struck her in the stomach. It was nothing compared to the self-control he had to exert to keep himself from using his magic and burning them all alive when he kneed her in the ribs and then forced her to kneel before him. It was nothing compared to the madness that clouded his mind when he slapped her across the face and then kissed her cheek, shoving her away from him.
When they got back to his apartment, Scarlett had tried to hide it, but he saw her wince as she climbed the three flights of stairs. He went straight to his bathing room and began drawing a hot bath for her. Once she was settled, he had gone out to get them dinner and give her some privacy.
“For the millionth time, I’m fine, Sorin,” she sighed, staring into the fire. “I assure you, this is not near the worst thing I have endured from him, and it surely will not be the last time his hands are on me.”
It sure as hell would be if he had any say about it.
Sorin walked over to the couch and watched her grimace as she pulled herself into a sitting position. He reached into the sack he was carrying and pulled out a dish. He had walked to a little café in the heart of the city and gotten them some spicy noodle dishes, having paid extra to have the cook wrap up their food to go.
“Thank you,” she said quietly as he opened her dish and handed it over to her.
They ate in silence for the first several minutes until she spoke.
“How did they get here?” Scarlett mused, taking a bite of her dinner.
“How did any of you get here?” Sorin asked. “The wards should technically prevent any of you from being here. How a pure-blooded Shifter or Witch or Night Child got here is a mystery I shall be looking into as soon as I return home.”
Scarlett’s gaze became fixed on her food. He scented the shift in her emotions and watched her. Her jaw tightened as she ate, purposefully not looking at him. She shifted and grimaced, pulling her feet up and tucking them underneath her. She ate slowly, like she wasn’t really hungry, but knew she should eat something.
“Tell me how Cassius outranks Nuri in the Black Syndicate,” Sorin said when he’d finished his dinner. Scarlett seemed to pause a moment, still avoiding his gaze, and ate another bite of noodles.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You will take me there and show me those you are trying to protect, but will not tell me about it?”
Scarlett finally brought her eyes to his. They were hard, the blue a glitter of iciness. “Do not think, General, that I will not be summoned and questioned about my actions today.”
“Were you not already punished?” he growled, his brows rising in surprise.
“I already told you, I was not punished for bringing you there,” she answered quietly, her gaze returning to her food. “But as far as that goes, I figured I’m already pushing my luck by seeing Callan. What did it matter if I dug my grave deeper at this point?”
“Tell me, Scarlett. Tell me what happened a year ago,” he said gently.
She sucked on a tooth as she brought her eyes back to his. She set her fork down on the edge of the dish, lowering it to her lap. “No. It is a story that does not need to ever be told.”
“Maybe I can help with whatever it is,” Sorin started.
“No,” she said simply.
“Then tell me of your assignment.”
“You share nothing of your work with me, General. Why would I share my work with you?”
“I have, though,” he argued. “I have shared what I do with the High Force and what they are currently training on. Every detail about the Black Syndicate and your life there has been revealed to me by accident.”
“We are forbidden to speak of it with outsiders. Taking you there today was a huge risk, and yes, it is one I will likely be punished for. But it will be nothing less than what I deserve, so it is not something to concern yourself with.” She picked her fork back up.
“You think you deserve to be punished for bringing someone in to help keep children safe?” Sorin said, unable to hide his disbelief.
She returned to her food as she asked, “Did you see any way someone could sneak into that building to get those children?”
Conversation over apparently.
“Does this mean I am no longer a suspect?” He couldn’t keep the slight bitterness from his tone.
“If you were still a suspect, General, I would have let you initiate your own death by black ashwood arrow today,” she replied sweetly.
His eyes snapped to her at the hint of her snarky sarcasm, but the small smile vanished almost instantly.
Of course, he had marked exits and hallways and guards and more. They had everything covered. More than covered. If they were truly moving the children every few days, he couldn’t glean how anyone would be gaining access to them. “They must have a contact on the inside that is getting them in and to them,” he finally answered. “Or maybe their contact is taking the targets to another area to be secured.”
He watched Scarlett turn this idea over in her mind. “That could be. If their contact is someone trusted by the orphans, by the guards, they would willingly go with them and believe it was for their safety, but one would think someone would connect some dots when the children stopped returning.” She had finished her food and was now leaning back against the couch cushions. Sorin reached over and took her empty food dishes from her lap, ignoring the jolt when his fingers brushed hers. “We need to figure out who their contact is,” she continued.
“Who decides where they are moved and who assigns the guards?” Sorin asked.
“The Fellowship provides the guards so the Assassin Lord would know that. Nuri used to coordinate the safe houses. I’m assuming she still does,” Scarlett answered.
“Who else is told when and where they are moving?”
“The Council and whomever else they deem needs to know, I suppose.”
“The Council?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “The Black Syndicate Council runs the Syndicate,” she answered distractedly.
“They are who you will answer to about bringing me there,” Sorin said.
“Yes.”
“Who are they?”
“The Assassin Lord, the High Healer, the Crime Lord, the High Madame, and the Merchant Governor,” she replied, her fingers playing with a seam on the couch cushion.
“So your mother used to be on this Council?” he asked.
“Yes.” She uncoiled suddenly to her feet, her teeth gritting as she stood. He didn’t miss how her arm came protectively around her middle. “I’m going to get a glass of water.”
Sorin said nothing as he watched her disappear into the kitchen, once again ending the conversation, and his thoughts drifted.
Eliné’s daughter. Who was her father? Eliné’s husband had been executed at the end of the Great War like many of the other Royals. He knew Eliné had taken other lovers since then, but who had sired a child with her? Did the man even know? Likely not. When she left, she was certainly not showing any physical signs of pregnancy. He hadn’t scented it on her either. She had to have left the moment she realized another life was growing inside her. Of course, that was assuming she had conceived Scarlett before she left.
He stood and carried the take-out dishes to the kitchen where he found her leaning against the counter, her hands braced behind her and no water glass in sight. She seemed to be breathing between her teeth.
“You are in pain,” he said, setting the dishes on the counter and coming to a stop in front of her.
“I am fine,” she said, her spine straightening.
“Quit saying that when you are clearly not fine,” Sorin replied, reaching for the hem of her top.
“What are you doing?” Her entire body tensed, and she grimaced at the movement.
“Relax, Love,” he said. “I just want to look at it.”
“That is not necessary.”
“You and I will have to disagree on that.” Sorin curled his fingers around the fabric, but she brought her hand to his, stopping any further movement.
“Please, Sorin,” she whispered. “Please just let this go.”
“You can either let me look at your injury, or I will go to the Black Syndicate and burn the Assassin Lord to ash right now,” Sorin answered. He knew his eyes flashed with flames when her eyes widened slightly.
She snorted. “You’d be dead before you got within three blocks of the Syndicate.”
A wicked grin curled onto his lips. “You forget, Love, that I come from a Court considered just as dark and nasty as your Syndicate,” he replied, his tone low. “I assure you, as long as I bear your ring, I would not be the one dead in the encounter.”
He held her gaze as he slowly lowered into a crouch before her. Her eyes were muted and seemed more grey than blue. He slowly lifted her shirt as her fingers slipped from his hand.
“Gods, Scarlett,” he murmured. Bruises of deep yellow, purple and blue were already marring her skin. Sorin clenched his jaw. The force behind those blows had to have been extraordinary to cause this kind of effect already.
“They will heal,” she whispered, taking her top from his hand and pulling it back down.
“If we were in the Fae Courts, you would heal within hours,” he ground out. “But I suppose with that tonic you take, even with your ring, you will still take several days for that to heal.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I have something that will help,” he said, rising before her once more. “Go lie down on the couch.”
He walked not to his own room, but into the spare bedroom bathroom. Opening a cupboard, he dug through various jars of ointments until he found the one he was looking for. When he came back to the great room, Scarlett was back where she had been when he’d returned with food.
“Lift your shirt,” he said, kneeling beside the sofa.
Scarlett did so wordlessly, and he never thought he would miss her smart ass mouth as much as he did in that moment. This place she had slipped into was brought on by more than a fist and knee to the gut. He felt like he couldn’t reach her.
Sorin unscrewed the lid of the jar and scooped some of the ointment onto his fingers. He imbued heat to warm it before he gently placed his fingers on her bruise. He felt her muscles tense under his touch. “Sorry,” he murmured.
“It’s fine,” she said, turning her head to face the fire.
“Have you—” Sorin swallowed. “Have you had these injuries before?”
He saw a muscle feather in her jaw. After several beats of silence, she said, “Tell me of this weapon that you and your queen are searching for?”
Sorin’s hand stopped its movement for a moment. “Not much is known about it,” he answered, scooping a bit more ointment onto his fingers and moving back to the bruise on her ribs. She flinched at the contact once more, but relaxed a moment later. “It is supposed to be a weapon of great power created by those who supported Deimas and Esmeray.”
“How will obtaining it free you from your oppressors?”
“I am not sure yet. I suppose it will depend on what the weapon can actually do.”
“Are you done?” she asked quietly.
“What?”
“With the ointment,” she answered, her eyes flicking to the jar he held. He hadn’t realized his hand had stilled on her abdomen.
“Yes.” He screwed the lid back on as she slid her tunic back down. He reached for her hand to help her sit up, and her eyes widened in surprise.
“That is amazing,” she breathed. “What is in that ointment?”
“It was brought from my home, made by our Healers,” he answered. “It has helped, then?”
“Very much so,” she answered, pressing her fingers gently to her abdomen atop one of the bruises. Her eyes met his, and he got lost in the icy blue that seemed a touch brighter. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat as he stood. With a flick of his wrist, hot tea appeared on the table beside the couch. “I am going to put this away.”
When he returned once more, Scarlett was sipping at her tea. “How did the current Fae Queen come to rule all the Courts?” she asked when she saw him.
Sorin crossed the space and took a seat next to her. He could have sworn she leaned slightly towards him as her shoulder pressed against his own. There was a small burst of flame and a map appeared in his hands. “Two Fae sisters used to rule the two halves. The first Queen of the Eastern Courts was killed after the Great War as many of the Royals were. However, she had a young daughter who assumed the throne when she came of age,” he explained. The Queen of the Western Courts was also killed later on, but she died without a recognized heir and so the current queen was granted the Western Courts as well.”
“Wouldn’t it have made more sense for a Royal from the Fire or Water Courts to have taken over?” she asked, studying the map.
“Perhaps, but who decides which Court rules?”
“Which Court is the current queen from then?
“The Fae Queen possesses both gifts of Silas, god of the earth, and Sefarina, goddess of the winds,” he answered.
“So the Queen of the Western Courts had fire and water magic?”
“Precisely,” Sorin answered, reaching over and twirling a piece of her hair around his finger while propping his other arm on the back of the couch.
“What kind of magic do I have then?” she asked.
Sorin sucked in a breath. This was the first time she had asked any question about her own power. He was about to answer when there was a knock at the door. He stood, leaving her studying the map, and crossed to the door. “I am sure it is Cassius,” he said.
“Mmhmm,” Scarlett hummed, clearly only half-listening, and Sorin found himself smiling softly at the casualness of this moment.
A moment he found himself wishing he could experience many more times.
He pulled the door open to find not Cassius, but the Crown Prince standing at his door, flanked by two of his personal guards. Finn and Sloan, he assumed. The Crown Prince’s face was hard as he took in Sorin, and Sorin noted his guards had their hands on their swords. They did not look pleased to be there. The taller one looked like he wanted to punch someone to let out some of his aggression.
“Scarlett,” Sorin said, keeping his voice neutral and bored.
“Mmhmm?” she hummed again, not even looking up, and taking a sip of her tea.
“Apparently,” the larger of the two guards drawled, the trio pushing their way into the room, “when there are not notes and books to be exchanged, she forgets her need to flatter His Highness.” Scarlett stiffened at the voice. She slowly set her tea cup down on the side table as she stood and turned to face them all. Her face had gone pale, and her eyes were wide. “No time to change into your costume?” the same guard crooned, noting her attire of loose pants that hung low on her hips and top that barely grazed the band of the pants.
Sorin took a casual step back and towards her, positioning himself between them, but the surprise on her face morphed into an arrogant smirk as she said, “My dear Sloan, have you missed me so much you had to drag poor Callan all the way down here so you could see my pretty face?”
She was quickly and efficiently rolling up the map as she spoke and tossed it nonchalantly to Sorin, who caught it with one hand. Her eyes held his for a fraction of a second, but he read what she wanted as her eyes slid to the Crown Prince. “Tell me, Prince, are you classifying this visit as brave or incredibly stupid? Because I’m fairly certain it’s the latter of the two. What are you doing here before the godsdamn sun has even finished setting?” Her eyes were narrowed as she spoke to him, and Sorin couldn’t help but wonder whether she was brave or stupid to speak to royalty as such. Then again, she had told the Assassin Lord to fuck off, so this shouldn’t really surprise him, he supposed.
“Scarlett,” the shorter one said, his voice wary.
“Hello, Finn,” she said genuinely. “Glad to see you’re still playing the peacekeeper among us all.”
Finn just sighed as Callan finally spoke. “I went to the soldiers’ training barracks today and learned that he ,” he said with a jerk of his chin to Sorin, who had moved closer to the table, “had taken the day off. I feared something had happened after the information you learned last night.”
Sorin reached the table where he laid the map down and discreetly scooped up two daggers that were lying on it.
“You thought he hurt me?” she asked, raising a brow at Callan. “And if he had, what were you three going to do about it?”
“I was and am prepared to take him in for questioning at the castle,” Callan said, his face turning challenging. “I am still tempted to do so.”
“Whatever for?” she asked now, finally moving from behind the sofa. Finn and Sloan tightened their grips on their swords at their waists. She came to stand beside Sorin. “I assure you, my methods of obtaining information are far better than your own, Prince. You, of all people, know how persuasive I can be.”
Sorin passed the daggers to her. She had positioned herself perfectly. Hardly any movement was needed to make the handoff.
“You—” Callan stopped, and Sorin found himself gritting his teeth as Callan looked Scarlett up and down. Her casual attire. Their closeness. “You trust him? You trust him enough not to be armed around him?”
A chilling smile spread across her face, and Sorin felt a thrum in his blood as he watched her work and adapt so quickly. “I trust him to arm me should I need it,” she replied, pulling the daggers from behind her back.
“Shit,” Finn muttered, pulling his short sword while Sloan drew his own blade.
“I’m not going to hurt him, you buffoons,” Scarlett snapped, rolling her eyes.
“Then why would you need daggers?” Sloan growled.
“You caught me unprepared. He rectified that situation,” she answered with a tilt of her head to Sorin.
Callan took a step toward her, and Finn grabbed his arm. “She is not going to hurt me,” Callan reiterated, wrenching his arm free. He stopped a few feet from her. “You need to explain some things to me,” he said to Scarlett.
Sorin gave him an amused look as Scarlett purred, “My dear Prince, I do not need to do anything.”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it,” Callan bit back. “Come talk to me in private, where you can be…not this.”
Scarlett tensed beside him, and Sorin resisted the urge to put a hand on her back. Not this. Not the mask he wanted her to wear.
“This is who I am, Callan. It’s who I have always been.”
“No, it’s not,” he insisted, stepping towards her again.
“It is,” she snapped. “You can’t pretend I’m only the person I am when we’re between the sheets when we both know that’s not all of me. You can’t pretend away the parts you don’t like.”
Callan paused, pursing his lips. “Please come talk to me.”
Scarlett sighed, turning to Sorin. “They’re as big a threat as they look,” she said, gesturing to Finn and Sloan.
“You mean not a threat at all?” Sorin asked, his tone bored.
“Precisely,” she answered with a smirk at them. Sloan glowered at her as she began walking toward the spare bedroom.
Callan began to follow her, but Sloan halted his movement. “You can’t go into a separate room with her alone. Not when she’s armed.”
Scarlett paused with a questioning look at Callan. He winced. “She is not going to give you her daggers, Sloan.”
“Then we’re not letting you be alone with her,” he answered.
“Sloan—” Callan began.
“No, Callan,” Sloan said, cutting him off. “For a year, we’ve been able to breathe easier knowing there wasn’t some insane woman sneaking into your rooms and leaving notes and books for you. Why is she suddenly showing up again? She’s using you, Callan, and you can’t even see it. My job is to keep you safe, and I do not put it past her to stick one of those daggers in your heart that she holds in the palm of her fucking hand as soon as she’s done with you. We’ve played along. We let you drag us down here, but you will have to literally fight me before I am letting you behind a closed door again with her.” To emphasize, he pointed his sword at Callan.
“Sloan!” Finn barked, his eyes widening at the gesture.
“You will threaten me?” Callan asked, his voice low.
“I will draw my weapon to defend not only my prince but my friend,” Sloan answered.
Sorin’s eyes had been on Scarlett during this whole exchange. He had watched her take in the guard’s words, had watched her wince at the partial truths he’d slung at the prince. Her eyes flickered to his, and he held them.
I see the stars.
He willed her to hear the words, but he started at the next words that came from the guard’s mouth.
“How can you not see she’s using you when you find her sitting with her consort, clearly more comfortable with him than when she visits you?”
Callan looked from Scarlett to Sorin. “She has told me they are friends,” he replied slowly.
Sloan sneered. “Anyone can look at them and see they are far more than that.”
“Enough,” Scarlett said, stepping between Callan and Sloan. “You either trust me or you don’t. I don’t really care at this point. You can clearly see I am fine, Callan, and none of you need to be seen here so I suggest you leave before this becomes a bigger mess than it already is.”
“No. Not until you tell me how you can still trust him,” Callan said.
“Quit being stubborn,” Scarlett said, her eyes flashing. “If I am seen with you by anyone but a select few, you put numerous others in danger.”
Callan closed the distance between himself and Scarlett, and Sorin forced himself to stay put as the prince gripped her shoulders. “Tell me why. Tell me what this danger is so it can be dealt with, and this can all be stopped.”
“You cannot stop it, and it will change nothing, Callan,” she cried, shrugging out of his grip. “Even if this danger were dealt with, there shall always be more. This danger is not what is keeping me from you.”
Callan stepped backwards, almost as if she had slapped him. “You sound as though you are choosing to stay away from me.”
“I am,” she snapped. Her eyes were hard, her face grim.
“You do not need to protect me,” he said, bringing his hand to her cheek.
“I am not protecting you,” she replied. “I am protecting myself because I do not have guards following me around to tell me when what I am doing is stupid not brave, and perhaps you need new ones who would do the same for you.”
“Stop,” Callan snapped. “You do not mean that, and you know it.” Scarlett raised her brows. “If that were the issue then it is easily rectified. I can have a dozen guards telling you when you are doing stupid things if you desire.”
Scarlett gritted her teeth, staring down the Crown Prince. “What do you want me to say, Callan?” she finally asked.
“The truth,” he answered, pulling her towards him, bringing his brow to hers. She closed her eyes, a look crossing her face Sorin couldn’t quite read. Resignation? Regret? Despair?
He hadn’t even realized he’d pulled a dagger from his side, but his grip tightened on the hilt.
“I told you watching them interact is always entertaining,” came a whispered voice of silk and honey from his side.
Every head whipped to Nuri, who was clad in her usual attire, hood up and in place.
“Where the hell did you come from?” Sloan said, eyes wide as he stepped closer to his prince.
“Hell indeed,” she purred in response.
“Not now,” Scarlett snarled at Nuri. The prince still had his hand on her waist, and she turned back to him. “I trust Sorin because he has helped me, Callan. He has helped me with more than just the missing children. If you do not trust him, then trust me. If you do not trust me, then we are done here, but I have never lied to you, not once. You have brought others into this, so my question now is, can we trust them? ”
“You can’t be serious,” Sloan sneered.
“She most certainly is,” Nuri said gleefully from beside Sorin.
“You have the worst timing, you know that?” Sorin remarked.
“You think so? I think it’s impeccable timing. I’d hate to miss out on this exciting drama,” she answered, one hand on her hip, the other brandishing a dagger nonchalantly as she spoke.
“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Finn asked. Sloan had his sword still pointed at Scarlett and the prince. Finn’s now guarded against him and Nuri.
Sorin looked to Scarlett, who gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She swore colorfully and pulled away from Callan. Sorin crossed the room to meet her halfway, ignoring the glare from the prince. He led her to a corner of the room, away from the others, Nuri watching them curiously. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear quietly. “I put a shield around us. No one can hear us.”
She raised her brows. “You can do that?”
“I can do more than that,” he crooned with a smirk, his gaze dipping to her mouth.
“Stop that,” she snapped, smacking his shoulder. He gave a quiet chuckle. “I’m glad you find this funny. This is a disaster. I don’t know how to get rid of them. They shouldn’t be here. Anyone could have seen them come here.” She bit her lower lip in worry.
“Maybe we should tell them what we have learned. Maybe we should include them,” Sorin replied.
“We cannot do that. I cannot be seen with Callan.”
Sorin ground his teeth. “I know this is something you do not want to talk about, so I will not ask you to tell me why, but we could use the help of the crown.”
“So what? You want to tell them that you are Fae and Nuri is a vampyre?” she retorted.
“You are Fae, too,” he answered dryly. “It concerns me that you keep forgetting this fact.”
She merely waved him off. “That’s under control with my tonic.”
“It is not something to have under control that way,” he argued.
“We are not talking about this right now. The Crown Prince and his personal guards are standing in your sitting room. Death’s Shadow looks like she’d love to clash swords with them, and you and I are standing apart from them all, arguing, which they apparently cannot hear. I need to do something,” she hissed.
This close to her and behind a shield, her scent was twining around him. He was having trouble focusing on anything else. “Do you want to get rid of them, or do you want to involve them?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know what to do.” Without warning, she leaned her forehead into his shoulder in frustration. “All my interactions with him are carefully planned, then he just showed up here…”
Sorin cleared his throat as she trailed off. “My shield prevents them from hearing us, but they can see us, Scarlett.” She pulled back and looked up at him with a scowl. “Breathe. Take a breath.” He knew he shouldn’t, but he brought a hand up and stroked her silver hair, sending a pulse of heat through his palm. He could feel the prince’s burning gaze upon him, could hear Nuri’s ring of maniacal laughter, but Scarlett visibly relaxed beneath his touch.
“I am ready,” she said, blowing out a breath. She moved to turn from him, but he lightly gripped her arm. She brought her eyes to his in question.
“You are not alone in the darkness. Remember that,” he said. Her lips curved up in a partial smile before she stepped from beyond his shield.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” she said, crossing the room to rejoin the group. He followed, stopping a step behind her. To his surprise, she stepped back to his side. “You three are going to leave. Discreetly. She will go first to make sure there’s no one around who shouldn’t be,” she said with a jerk of her chin to Nuri. Nuri was out the window at her words, the two guards’ mouths falling open slightly at her speed and stealth. “Tomorrow we will meet in the clearing, and we will put all the cards on the table.”
Callan took a step towards them. “Will you still come tonight?”
“No,” she said softly. “The general and I need to look into some things we learned today. I will fill you in tomorrow.”
Callan’s hazel eyes went to Sorin’s, and he stared right back at him. “He is the reason, isn’t he?” he finally said, his eyes still on Sorin.
“No,” Scarlett answered sharply. Then more gently, she added, “I only met him a couple months ago. This thing you and I have was doomed from the start, Callan, you had to have known that. That throne is still a cage. You are still light, while I am still dark.”
His attention went back to Scarlett, and he took another step towards her. “I am not ready to accept that.”
Scarlett stepped from Sorin’s side until she was toe-to-toe with the prince. Finn and Sloan tensed behind him, their weapons still drawn. Sorin merely crossed his arms with a feral smirk at them. “My dear Prince, do not forget that I am Death’s Maiden.” Finn and Sloan swore viciously at the revelation. “Much of what made me what I am today was forged in darkness, and it is a darkness I do not entirely wish to leave.”
“You would stay in the dark?” Callan challenged.
“I would stay where I can see the stars,” she replied.
And Sorin could have sworn that thing that stirred within his soul sat up at her words.