36. Hope
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Hope
Ihuddled on the settee, grimoire and ink sprawled before me.
Blood-drenched handkerchiefs littered the ground around me.
I was so terribly near completing the translation.
A shout reached the chamber, and I stilled, peeking at the door, but no one entered.
Cassiel had yet to search for me, but once he discovered I was gone, he would.
Cassiel was beginning to drive me insane. But he was adamant that he did not want me to read it. Any hint of a headache and he would force me to rest.
The frustrating Warlord was much too concerned. I did not want to enjoy it.
“Unbelievable,” Tabby breathed, reading through the journal from the cushioned chaise across from me.
Branwen’s mouth moved as she finished reading over her shoulder.
“Now my behavior makes sense.” Tabby tapped the page.
“I had flashes of intense warmth. Then there was this mad urge to rub against fur and Archer. If it were both, even better.”
She clicked her tongue.
Damien caught my eye from where he sat across the chamber. He had yet to leave Vera’s side.
Piper would have approved. Emotion thickened in my throat. It was quite clear he cared deeply for Vera. I could not bring myself to look at her bound leg.
“Do not worry,” Branwen said. “The healing salve you brought helped break the fever she battled. She has begun to regain color in her cheeks.”
I exhaled slowly. Lucinda had taken charge of Vera’s care, and I had purposefully avoided asking questions. I was scared. Losing another friend . . .
Swallowing took effort. I cleared my throat and returned to the passage I had been reading. Wait a moment. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them, the moving words focusing.
In the days before the Barren rose, the first of the Warlords bled upon the Cenote, and it drank, and it remembered.
Ever after, the stone has known its kin.
Within such blood, the old magicks stir.
Not every Beta carries the slumbering dark. Not all who wake can live.
Only before the Woken does the Cenote wake; to any other, it sleeps unseen.
I straightened.
“What is it?” Branwen asked.
I lifted a hand and forced myself to continue reading in spite of the unbearable throb at my temples.
Seek the heart of the wound, where the world was first cleaved. There, where the Barren runs deepest, the Cenote lies hidden from all eyes.
It will not show itself to the seeking.
Let the Woken bleed upon the barren ground. Where the scarlet falls, a path shall rise—hidden from all eyes but the Woken’s—and lead to the mouth of the Cenote where more will rise.
But the deep places are not empty. What the dying thresholds birth shall gather there, and not all who walk the hidden path return from it.
Only an Awakened redblood could find it. My pulse jumped and forced me to my feet. The quill went clattering across the stone ground.
“I know how to Awaken Warlords,” I breathed. Excitement widened Tabby’s eyes. “Where is Cassiel?”
“Archer told me Morak, him and Liadan were meeting with him.”
“They must be in the study.” I was already on my feet, bolting past the chamber entrance. I almost collided with Lucinda.
“What is it, Amara?”
“I found it!” I shouted.
I ignored the pinch in my hip, hurrying down the dirt and stone path, weaving through with the frail memory of the way. Steps followed me as I wove through the halls, past my chamber, and reached the study. Jude stood at the entrance and straightened upon seeing me.
“Private meeting.” I slowed.
“Private meeting?” Tabby scoffed. “Grab my husband.”
She angled herself to the side. Jude faced her, arms crossed, with a thunderous look crossing his face. I shoved through the door while Jude was distracted.
“I could not care less if all of you die.” Cassiel propped the bottom of his heel on the table.
“You’ve made that very clear,” Archer growled. “But there needs to be someone for them to follow. And that is you.”
“At least until we can return to not being hunted.”
“Bondmate,” Cassiel drawled, not turning around. I panted, approaching. Jude ran inside.
“I could not stop her.”
Cassiel whipped his head around and pierced him with a look. “You are no one to stop her.”
Jude scoffed.
“Stop—never mind—I figured it out.” I shook the grimoire. “The way to reach the cenote. The way to create more Warlords. I know how.”
Morak exploded to his feet. “Well done,” he hissed with intensity. He met Liadan’s eyes. “Now we move. Did we decide who will attempt it?”
“There were volunteers that the stone showed to have the potential—”
They continued speaking, not allowing me a word in edgewise. Cassiel seemed bored.
“Wait.” Voices drowned Tabby out.
“Some will need to remain to protect—”
“You cannot!” I shouted.
Silence and all those around turned to look at me.
“What do you mean?” Archer said, menace in his tone.
A hiss from Cassiel had everyone shrinking. The silence turned heavy.
“We cannot fight this way!” Tabby shouted.
“His Highness,” Archer began, pure mockery in his tone, “cannot see reason—”
“Enough. Let the women talk,” Tabby interrupted. Archer mulishly clamped his lips together.
“Finally, someone with some sense,” I announced. “I must go.”
“It is much too dangerous,” Cassiel proclaimed.
I scrutinized each and every face. “There is no choice. An Awakened redblood must be present for the path to be seen.”
We did not waste a single moment. While I rested, Liadan would discover which of those with Warlord potential would come with us.
I lay across the bedding, enveloped in fur, all the candles snuffed out. The time to leave on our journey was near, yet I could not force myself into slumber.
Cassiel ran his fingertips over the lines of my face. I would have swatted him away if the slow caresses were not calming.
We had lain here for a while now.
“What are your thoughts?” His question came out slightly stilted, as if asking cost him.
“How I hope—” I stopped myself. What was I doing speaking to him as if conversation between us was typical? “Nothing.”
I could feel him holding his breath. Finally he grunted. He did not ask me anything further. Guilt prodded at my conscience.
“You do not speak with me of mundane things,” he mused. There was no intonation in his voice. “You never seem inclined to.”
Is that hurt in his tone?
His fingertips trailed down my neck, playing over my fluttering pulse. He traced the lines of the Sigil.
“The only time you allow yourself to break free is when I touch you.”
He continued rubbing down my rib cage, prodding lust to life.
I could not see him in the dark chamber.
The bed moved, jostling me upon it. I could feel his presence over me.
Lips pressed against my nose, then my lips.
Just the faintest touch. Cassiel nestled his face into my throat and kissed a pathway down.
My breaths came in shorter bursts.
His hand curled under my dress, dragging it up, fingers raising it as they glided along my flesh.
My stomach seized. Cassiel pulled down my bloomers, exposing me to the air.
I instinctively drew my knees closed, but he pried them apart.
My bloomers dangled from an ankle and I could feel him between my legs.
His wet mouth lowered on my sex. A tremble coursed through my limbs. I tilted my hips up, pushing for more.
Cassiel gave it.
His tongue curled inside my sex, rubbing against every surface. So easily he managed to render me a fool. I gasped, my channel squeezing around his spearing tongue.
Everything felt enhanced in the darkness. My hands sought his head. I tangled my fingers around the tops of his hair with one hand while the other stretched to the side, bunching the blanket.
‘Do not move.’
His order entered my head.
I stiffened upon it reaching me. Cassiel sank one fang into my flesh. The pierce sharp and painful. But he did not let me wallow in it; he began to suck. I screamed, my spine arching and my hearing becoming irrelevant.
All I could hear was the rush of blood to my ears as he fed. Pleasure unlike any he’d offered before wracked my frame. Searing, achingly perfect. When I floated down from the ecstasy, I found whimpers still leaving my lips. I clamped my mouth shut.
He dragged his tongue up my entrance, licking away the need he caused. Cassiel climbed up my body, making the bed dip with his movements.
“You come alive at my fingers, my mouth,” he breathed. “It is the only time your guards fail around me.”
I panted against his lips that were grazing mine.
“Do not leave my side whilst we are in The Barren.” He squeezed my jaw. I moaned, giving him a non answer. Not that I could provide one with how winded I was.
“It is time to go,” he murmured. I still could not move. Cassiel lifted off me and he pulled up my bloomers. Then his hands bound around my arms to force me upright.
“Soon, this will all be over, and you and I will be left alone.” The promise seemed more like a threat. I stiffened and withdrew from his grip.
Instead of addressing his comment, I smoothed my hands down my dress as I oriented myself. A few strides across the chamber should be the door. My satchel hung from the handle where I had left it.
As I followed the path to the exit where we were all to meet, I scrambled to calm my thoughts. I looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, Cassiel followed dressed in leathers. They crossed his chest, attached to the spaulder. A small blade was sheathed at his ribs over the linen shirt.
‘Amara—’
I whipped my head around, quickening my pace. I was fully avoiding him. He seemed to receive the message because he did not attempt speaking to me again.
At the entrance waited Wilem, Jude, Archer, and Liadan all dressed similarly to Cassiel. The only difference was they wore a bandana at their necks. The same ones from those men that had attacked us, that Cassiel had killed so easily.
The men’s hostility had solidified. Cassiel slaughtered their brothers in arms not long ago.
Archer and Tabby were in a tight embrace.
“But what if you do not survive it?” she whispered.
“I cannot ask another to sacrifice themselves if I am not willing to do it myself.”
Tabby’s lip trembled. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. The gentle way he combed her hair back made my heart squeeze.
I could feel Cassiel’s gaze boring into me, but I ignored him.
Tabby turned and rushed to me, prompting Cassiel to retreat. “Please be careful,” Tabby said, seizing my hand and placing the small, thin blade I asked her to procure for me into my hands.
As I backed away, I slipped it into my satchel hanging across my shoulders. Without the weight of the grimoire it seemed so light.
“I will be,” I said, squeezing her arm. Cassiel waited expectantly for me at the base of the staircase.
I squared my shoulders and mentally prepared for the long travel to The Barren.