Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The inn at Lekeid was utter shit, and Thalia was already pissed.
They’d left Perden and skirted Chaménos by boat, Cassius navigating the rocky terrain, before they found a small inlet to approach Agripa. As soon as they docked, a summer storm had swept in on a foul wind, drenching them from head to toe.
Thalia scowled at herself in the dirty mirror above the washstand in the room they’d procured.
She’d already sent a message to her mother informing her that the prince had allowed her leave to visit but that their transportation had floundered because of the storm and they were in need of a carriage immediately.
At least on paper, her mother wouldn’t be able to detect the lie.
Just one more day.
One more day until she had to face her mother.
Her stomach churned.
She blinked again at her reflection. Dark circles had appeared under her hazel eyes, a line sketched permanently between her brows. She looked haggard.
Granted, she felt as though someone had wrung her out and left her to dry on a clothesline.
She sighed, peeling off her clothing. She silently cursed, realizing the extra clothes she’d brought along were just as soaked as the ones on her body.
Thalia shuffled to the fire, laying out everything, and prayed it would all dry by morning despite the storm raging hard enough the window rattled.
She grabbed a throw at the end of the bed, wrapping herself in it. Better than sitting naked, waiting for Cassius to come back from wherever he’d gone off to.
The thought sent her blood thrumming.
The door creaking open nearly had her flying out of her skin.
Cassius took one look at her sitting on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, and looked away. The muscle in his jaw flickered as he stiffly carried a tray of food he’d gone to fetch her over to the small dresser in the room.
“My other clothes were wet,” Thalia said defensively, unsure why he seemed so ill at ease.
Cassius closed the door behind him, toeing off his boots. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re acting weird.”
“Forgive me, Princess. I wasn’t expecting to find you naked and waiting for me.”
Prick.
“You wish,” Thalia crooned as Cassius went about taking off his clothes. He let out a curse when he realized his own extra clothes were soaked too.
He looked around, finding another blanket, his fingers clenching in the fabric. Thalia glanced at the tray of food, although the steam coming from whatever stew he’d brought was the least interesting thing in the room. Especially as the sound of his pants hitting the floor brushed her ears.
He moved into her eye line, his lower half wrapped in the blanket, and grabbed the tray. Thalia made room on the small bed as he set it between them. She inhaled the scent of what appeared to be two bowls of rabbit stew, along with two mugs of ale.
“It probably tastes like shit,” Cassius said.
Thalia didn’t care. She shoveled a spoonful in her mouth, letting the warmth drive out the chill from her bones.
Cassius watched her eat, his gaze intent on hers.
It was only after she’d almost finished the bowl that she realized he hadn’t touched his stew. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
Cassius shrugged. “I fed earlier on the boat.”
Fed. Not ate.
It was so easy to forget what he was. Especially in moments like this. When it was almost as if nothing had changed between them.
“I thought you still got hungry?”
“I do, but it usually takes at least a day before my stomach grumbles for actual food.”
Thalia set her spoon down with a clink. “Oh.”
“I got two”—Cassius nodded to the tray—“because I didn’t want the innkeeper to think anything suspicious. You can have it if you want.”
“It’s fine.” Thalia swallowed, the sound audible, and Cassius slid his gaze to hers. “What do we tell my mother when we get to Corithian?”
Cassius raised a brow. “Nothing.”
“Please, Cassius. She knows when I’m lying.”
“Then don’t lie.”
“You want me to tell her that the Vampyrs are facing a creature whose bite is fatal, the courts are on the brink of collapse, and their prince seems more inclined to disappear than deal with the actual problems at hand?”
Cassius’s eyes narrowed. “Fine, let me do the talking.”
“Right, because you’re so diplomatic.”
“I’m hand to the prince, remember?”
“Right. Right. Sent to broker deals and accept marriage proposals on his behalf. How could I forget?”
His brows narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
Thalia turned, her anger rising just as quickly as her dread.
Cassius stared at her, his eyes sweeping over her face, seeming to expose every facet of her person.
As if he could see right to her heart. She was supposed to kill the Vampyr prince.
Supposed to destroy them from the inside out. She was supposed to kill him.
And now she was … she was helping them. Her sworn enemy. The creatures responsible for killing her family.
But it wasn’t the creatures who’d killed her sister that she was aiding.
Her mind flashed to Keegan’s soft laugh, Camilla raising her brow in approval, Larellia’s hard determination as she tried to find the cure for their people.
Her mother would never understand that.
Because while Thalia might hesitate, Helena Cesiaran of Agripa would not.
She didn’t realize she’d pressed the palms of her heels into her eyes until Cassius gently peeled them away.
“Talk to me,” he said softly, brows furrowed.
Thalia stared at him, her throat constricting like vines around her neck.
She couldn’t.
Because he’d never forgive her if she told him her plan.
If she revealed the mission her mother had assigned her—the fact that she’d been smuggling intel through her letters so Agripa might better prepare for when she took down the courts and they could sweep in.
She didn’t think he trusted her, not fully.
But a part of her ached for it. For that trust that used to bind them tighter than vows.
But trust had died. It died the moment she’d stabbed him in the back and taken a vow to end him. And it wasn’t as if Cassius weren’t keeping his own secrets. Secrets about his world, about the prince. She couldn’t trust him either, as much as she wished to.
“My mother will ask questions. We should prepare for those answers.” Thalia pulled out of his grip, taking a swig of sour ale, only so she’d have something to do.
Cassius watched her with a guarded expression. “The best lies are the ones with truth weaved into them.”
Thalia glanced at him over the rim of her mug. “So what should I tell her?”
“If she asks you about Vaccarium, what will you say?”
Thalia set her mug down. “That it’s rather like Agripa.”
“And if she asks you about the prince?”
“Well, at least I can be honest in saying I don’t know much about him and he’s hardly around,” Thalia said with enough bite that Cassius straightened.
His brows narrowed, but she downed her ale, ignoring the sour taste on her tongue.
Each moment she spent dwelling on what was happening in Vaccarium, Thalia felt her composure cracking.
Each interaction with the monsters she’d sworn to hate, each bit of light teasing from Camilla or soft word from Keegan, each look of longing from Cassius, created a crack in her meager facade.
“Thalia?”
She ignored him, setting her mug down, heart pounding. Cassius tilted his head, dark hair glinting. His eyes went to her pulse, and she wondered if he could hear it. Hear the conflict spreading through her veins, burning greater than any Vampyr bite.
She looked away, standing up suddenly. She gripped the blanket around her chest, grabbing the tray. “We should go to bed. The carriage should arrive by nightfall.”
Thalia managed to awkwardly put the tray on the dresser. Thunder cracked and she jumped, her bicep scraping against the sharp corner of the dresser. She hissed, glaring at the line of red now gleaming on her arm.
“Are you all right?” Cassius rumbled out.
Thalia scowled, making her way back to the bed, ignoring the concern on his face. “Fine.”
She didn’t look at him as she slid under the covers, her skin pressing against the sheets.
Eventually the mattress dipped.
Thalia stared at the wall, willing the tension to leave. Willing the pressure in her throat to disappear. She shifted again and let out another hiss, her arm smarting.
“Let me see it.” Cassius’s gruff voice broke through the pounding of the rain outside their room.
“It’s fine.” Thalia shifted off her hurt arm, facing him.
Cassius’s eyes roved over her face before settling on her hair, which splayed around her bare shoulders.
“You’ll get blood on the sheets. Let me help you.” His words had roughened.
Thalia swallowed. She needed to say no. Because whatever flame was rekindling between them would only burn out in the end. They couldn’t be together, not if her vow was meant to be fulfilled. Not if her mission was meant to succeed.
When she said nothing, he scooted closer, pulling her arm out from under the sheets. The scrape gleamed against the shadows of the fire. It wasn’t deep, but ruby droplets welled like beads of dew.
She cursed, looking for something she could swipe the blood with, but Cassius shifted even closer.
She froze, heart pounding as his glowing eyes met hers. “Do you trust me?”
Thalia stared at him, unsure what he was asking, only knowing that something else pulsed in his irises, something a part of her ached to discover.
Did she trust him?
Thalia gave the briefest dip of her chin.
Cassius took her wrist in his hand, raising her arm slightly. His thumb brushed along the sensitive inside of her wrist.
Then he dipped his head.
“What are you doing?” Thalia’s breath hitched.
Cassius flicked his gaze up, face rippling slightly. “I’m not going to bite you,” he said low, a faint hint of fangs showing.
“Then what are you doing?”
“Taking care of that.”
A droplet of blood slid down Thalia’s arm.
He waited, eyes searching hers. Maybe she’d gone a bit mad, because she gave another nod.
Cassius seemed to shudder as he bent his head once more, his tongue landing on the crimson streak down her arm.
Thalia’s fingers curled in the sheets, her heart pounding as Cassius’s tongue swept up her arm, following the trail until he got to the cut.
She watched in rapt fascination as his mouth skimmed the wound. She shivered, and Cassius’s grip tightened slightly on her wrist. The sharpness of his jaw gleamed, his throat working as he lapped up the small stain of blood on her bicep.
She thought she stopped breathing when he finally lifted his head. His pupils were blown out, a hint of red staining his lips.
“What did it taste like?” Thalia whispered, heat flooding her body.
Cassius took a moment to focus on her. “Like heaven.”
A shiver ran down her spine, and she looked away, not able to face the intensity in his face.
She looked down at her arm and gasped. The scrape was gone; only new skin looked back at her. “How did you do that?”
Cassius’s thumb swirled along her wrist. “Sometimes, right after a Vampyr feeds, our saliva seems to retain some of the healing properties of blood.” At Thalia’s wide-eyed gaze, he continued, “Don’t ask me how or why. It just happens.”
Thalia stared at her arm. Cassius hadn’t moved, just kept running his thumb against her skin.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
That each moment with him felt as though her world were beginning to rip at the seams. That who he was now, a creature with such power—it didn’t scare her.
Not like she’d thought it would. And a small, terrified part of her wondered what it would be like to feel as he did.
To drink from someone and taste their very essence—taste their soul.
“I’m thinking that now I know I can come to you if I ever get a cut,” Thalia said, removing her arm.
She turned her back, only so she didn’t have to see the disappointment etching itself across Cassius’s handsome face.