Chapter 52
Chapter fifty-two
Seraphina
Sera had sunned herself for a few hours atop the boulder, looking out over the ravine and onto the Lanac Mountains. It’d felt glorious. When she got back to her room, she was met with a note from Alistair saying he had some business to attend to.
Apparently, he wasn’t keeping the traveling a secret anymore.
She should be relieved, but Sera didn’t know if she could handle another instance where he came back covered in blood again.
A piece of her grieved for him. Not because Colton was gone, but because of what she and Al could have been together.
That kiss had been rushed, yes, and at the time Sera thought she had everything she’d ever wanted.
But Alistair wasn’t Vasso…
Heat crept up Sera’s neck and across her cheeks as she thought of their kiss. The way his mouth fit hers.
Sera sighed and went to find something to distract herself.
After a few hours, she found a tome in one of the seating areas within the manor. It was a catalog similar to the codex, and she admired the various pieces of art labeled in it as she tried to distract herself from Vasso.
All she wanted was to be near him again. Swim in the depths of his eyes, breathe in his scent. He was intoxicating. And that picture he’d drawn… Had it been fate? That she had been the one commissioned to preserve his sketch pad, then to be stopped outside of Crowpass?
A tap on the door had her opening it.
Her familiar flew in, taking its usual perch on the bedpost. Behind the bird, a blue velvet bag held by a wisp of shadow floated in.
She waved her hand through the smokiness, her vatra rippling within her, and the bag plopped to the floor. She peeked inside, then squealed and ran to the bathing room.
Small bottles of fragrance, oils, butters, and creams for her body and hair were wrapped in a silk scarf. She smelled each of them, choosing one that reminded her of the ocean and sunshine.
Summer in a bottle.
Sera soaked in the hot water while methodically using the cream to separate her curls into some semblance of a shape.
It would take more than one application for her curls to be back to normal, but she didn’t care.
Laying her head on the rigid rim of the tub, she smiled.
He couldn’t have gotten this from the Citadel, but knowing he’d gotten it for her at all had her blushing.
She hadn’t felt herself in ages, and this little kindness made the fluttering in her stomach beat harder. She should be petrified. It was clear Vasso was hiding something. Obviously his feelings about her, but she couldn’t help but think there was something else.
Sera lifted herself from the tub and stepped into a clean towel.
Snik was now sitting on her bed in animated conversation with Raven, who flapped its wings and croaked in response. Hanging on the mirror was another beautiful black gown.
“You two aren’t very good guards, are you?”
Raven and Snik made a noise that sounded like a huff.
The dress was stunning. Dainty straps held on to her shoulders.
The bodice was simple and cut low enough to tease a bit of cleavage without being immodest. The skirt was full, cut in ripples and waves of black tulle.
It was a little much for dinner, but she couldn’t deny that she looked beautiful in it.
Sera beheld herself in the mirror, transfixed by the eye color she shared with her father—a swirling mix of emerald and sage.
A knock at the door had her giddy. He’d come to see his handiwork. Skin smoothed and softened, her hair with its natural curl back, albeit damp. She opened the door with a smile, then stopped short when she saw Alistair.
His gaze danced over her, from her face down the bodice of her dress and back up. He inhaled, closing his eyes.
“Are you smelling me?” she asked.
Red streaked his cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “We need to talk.”
Sera swallowed. “I don’t think I can take any more bad news, Al.”
“I know you’ve been sneaking off with him.” He walked past her, glaring at Snik and Raven.
“You don’t know anything.” She closed the door.
“Mesar, remember? You’re covered in his power. I can feel it coming off you in waves.”
The dagger at her spine pulsed in warning. Their bargain was that he couldn’t know Vasso was training her. Technically, if he found out she had the same power, it wouldn’t break her bargain with the lord. Not that she wanted Alistair to find out at all.
“And you fucking lied to me—I was out for three days!”
Sera scoffed. “You’ve got a lot of nerve calling me a liar,” she said. “You’ve lied to me since we left the Citadel.”
“The difference is that I do it to keep you safe.”
Another knock on the door had her stomach rolling. She hoped it wasn’t Vasso. Swinging it wide, she exhaled to find Ophelia there.
“Would you both please meet me in the parlor for dinner? Lord Vasso will not be joining us this evening, and I cannot stand the swinging chandeliers. He’s the only one who can make them stop.” Ophelia huffed and led them through the manor.
Underneath her frustration at Alistair was a wave a disappointment.
She was sure Vasso would’ve wanted to see her transformation.
Shadow, she wanted him to see how beautiful she looked.
A gifted set of creams and a gown that was made with her measurements in mind, and the lord wouldn’t see his altruism?
Alistair stomped behind her like a cave troll as they made their way to a cozier area of the caverns. An intimate table, set for three, and the first course was already plated. Alistair held out her chair, and Sera huffed before taking a seat.
“Now, let’s discuss logistics, shall we?” Ophelia said. Al raised his brows at her. “Don’t be so naive. I know you’re biding your time with this one.” Ophelia held her wine and pointed her finger at Sera. “Before you take me to my doom, of course.”
Al choked.
“Your doom?” Sera asked. “The Council doesn’t plan to kill her, do they?”
Alistair didn’t meet her eye, just sucked down water.
“They most certainly do,” Ophelia responded. “Isn’t that right, Alistair?”
“I’m not privy to the Council’s plans. My instructions are to deliver you to them.” He took a bite of his greens.
“Al, we can’t bring her back if they mean to kill her.”
“He will, and he must,” Ophelia said as if they were discussing a bout of bad weather and not her death. “I have made my peace with Eraphon and fate.”
“We aren’t bringing her back.” Steel slid into Sera’s voice as she glared at Alistair. She wouldn’t be an accessory to her murder. A slaying for what? Knowledge? Or just because she was a better reader than Chair Renata?
“I don’t have a choice, Sera. My orders are to deliver her.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have to.”
Ophelia filled her wineglass again and sipped. Her face was smug as she stared at Al. “Are you going to tell her the rest?”
Sera glared at him. His jaw was tight, staring daggers at Ophelia.
“What else is there?”
“Go on, tell her,” Ophelia said.
Alistair slammed his fist on the table. The clattering of glassware and utensils made Sera jump. She was surprised the table hadn’t split.
Ophelia kept her feline smile planted on her face. “You’re not going to tell her, are you? Coward.”
“Tell me,” Sera gritted out. Her magic drew back like a bow, ready to send an arrow flying should she demand it.
“There’s nothing to discuss.” Alistair stood, avoiding her gaze.
“Sit,” Sera said. She was tempted to tie him to the chair with her magic if he didn’t answer, which would put her into a world of trouble, but she was so damn sick of his lies. Alistair turned to leave.
“She said sit!” Ophelia threw a blast of air at the warlock, pushing him back into his chair.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he snarled.
“The Council told you to leave her. Take the map of the doorways and discard her in the forest.”
Sera gasped.
Pure, unabashed rage lined Al’s features.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” Sera said.
“I was going to sneak you in,” he said.
Ophelia laughed. “You think Blackwell wouldn’t have felt her through the wards?”
“But why?” Sera asked.
“They didn’t give me a reason. It doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving you. I won’t lose you too.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He had planned to leave her discarded in the forest? What did that mean? Did the Council want her dead?
“I will come with you willingly, but do not be fooled by their words; they will kill me. And I am prepared to die, but you must not pursue this.” Ophelia pointed to the two of them. “You leave her here, with Lord Vasso.”
The chair behind her thudded on the carpet as Sera launched to her feet. “Don’t I get any say?”
“Sera,” Al called to her.
She was already out of the room. Any guilt that had crawled through her earlier was now gone. He was never going to bring her back, and maybe she was wrong for not planning to return anyway, but he hadn’t known that. It was the fact that they were making decisions for her.
Her feet carried her through the manor as she stewed.
With each step, a tug in her chest pulled tighter and tighter until she reached the door to Vasso’s study. She burst through to find Vasso sitting at his desk.
“Seraphina?”
“That motherfucker!” she screamed. Vasso’s mouth twitched at the corners. “Don’t you laugh.”
A deep chuckle escaped before he reeled himself in.
She couldn’t control her swirling emotions. Al had been ordered to discard her in the woods. They were never going to give her a team of Legion soldiers. They were never going to let her try and save Nora.
A sickening nausea curled within her, then a blast of mist enveloped the room.
“Subdina.” Vasso’s low voice soothed her. A brush of his fingers against her cheek had her leaning into his palm. The only thing she could see within her own darkness was bright red irises glowing at her.
He was so close, and she had shrouded the room in darkness.
“You seem awfully angry for a witch dressed so beautifully.”
She stiffened, pulling away from his hand. “I didn’t realize they needed to be mutually exclusive.”
“Are you done hiding in the dark?”
“If I could pull it back, I would have already.” She waved her hand in front of her face to try and dissipate the inky fog.
Vasso snapped his fingers, and his magic flowed. Goose bumps coated her in a moment of seductive frisson. Her breath hitched in her throat with an involuntary moan.
“Don’t go making noises like that,” he said, his eyes darkening, “I’ll never let you leave.”
She wanted to bathe in his words, linger, and ask him if he meant it. Whether that was something they could try, just once, to see if maybe their future together did make sense. But then she remembered what Alistair had been ordered.
“It seems I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
Vasso quirked his dark brow at her.
“Why weren’t you at dinner?” Sera plopped into the chair opposite his desk. The tulle of her skirt fluffed around her in a ridiculous display.
“Something came up.” He rubbed his brow, then flashed her a rakish grin. “Did you miss me?”
“I figured you would have liked to see your handiwork.” She ran her hand down the length of her body, showcasing her curls and dress.
Vasso steepled his fingers and stared. “You are exquisite, if you’re fishing for a compliment.
Smell quite delicious as well. I was hoping that would be the one you chose.
” He cleared his throat. “But providing you with basic necessities and decent clothing doesn’t entitle me to admire you as an object, Seraphina.
I wanted you to feel comfortable, whether I’m in the room or not. ”
Her jaw went slack.
Vasso smirked at her. Sent a tendril of mist down her arm. “Unless you want me to treat you like an object. Do you want to be my plaything, Subdina?”
His velvet voice caressed her like an exposed nerve.
Shuddering.
Electric.
An intensity teetering somewhere between pain and pleasure.
Their kiss had awoken something within her.
As much as she wanted to take him up on his words that very moment—on that desk, in that chair, on the damn floor—she needed to figure out the situation with Nora.
“I’m afraid what I want doesn’t seem to matter to anyone.
Alistair is making it increasingly difficult—”
Vasso’s teasing smile fell. “As much as I enjoy your company, did you need me for something?”
“Yes. Will you take me to the underworld or not?”
Vasso closed the ledger he was working in, sighed, and sat back.
“You didn’t think I would forget, would you? They’re leaving tomorrow, and I need to know. I’m going, with or without you.” She tapped her fingers on the velvet chair arm.
“That would be unwise, to attempt to breach Gehenna alone.”
“Well, I’m out of options,” she said.
The candlelight from the sconces along the far wall scattered shadows along the shelves behind him. In those shadows, she swore she could make out wings.
“Your offer is still whatever I want?” he asked.
She gulped. This was dangerous, stupid, positively idiotic. “Yes.”
“I’ll bring you to the underworld only if you follow your destiny.”
Sera scrunched her brows. “I don’t understand.”
He held out his hand. “We all have been destined by fate. Ophelia has her assumptions, I have mine. Regardless of what they are, I want you to follow them.”
“If it’s destiny or fate or whatever, wouldn’t I do it anyway?” she asked.
“Ophelia insists there is free will. I suppose if you were face-to-face with your destiny and decided to walk the other way, you could.”
“And if you break yours? If you don’t take me into the underworld, then what?”
“Then I suppose that you’d be free to do what you want and I’d be in your debt.”
There was a loophole, something she was missing.
There had to be. She thought of Nora on that bed, pale and disassociated.
She thought of her mother with her head planted on the Council chambers floor in complete submission, begging them to let her go.
Then Dominick in front of Colton, on a burning pyre.
“Okay.” She stood and grabbed his hand.
“Oh, fucking tits.” He hissed and jerked. On the inside of his forearm was a brand, already raised and red. Sera grabbed his wrist to inspect the mark. An insignia of a raven was seared into his pale skin. “Shit, that hurts.” He blew on the brand.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“A bargain brand? Yes. Though I’ve never been stupid enough to be on the receiving side.” Vasso ran his hand through his hair and stood, crossed the room, and opened the door for her.
Before she exited his study, she asked, “You’ll be ready tomorrow?”
He nodded. “I’ll be ready.”