Chapter 24
Fates-given Joke
Cora
Cedar and I walked into the small overcrowded tavern, and found Silvana immediately.
It was easy when the current occupants were giving her a wide berth, only periodically sending nervous glances at the decapitated head in the middle of the table.
It seemed to be a mix of humans and vampires, though at this late hour, it was mostly vampires except the few women who were working here.
The few other humans seemed to be sitting in the far corner, their eyes glazed over and their heads bobbing back and forth as if they weren’t here and present much at all.
“Are they okay?” I questioned, my tone hushed as my hand brushed Cedar’s arm.
He followed my gaze and scoffed. “They’re on what they call wolf venom. It’s the drug they altered to use for Vega on Keres’s prisoners.”
I nodded and decided it was best to just focus on why we were here, my gaze returning to Silvana.
My sister was a creature to be reckoned with and I never wanted to find myself on the opposite end of her blade.
There had been whisperings around the castle since Oren and Cedar had been taken prisoner about the Ice Queen in the south.
About her ruthless prowess with a blade and her ability to kill without an ounce of mercy to be seen.
I wasn’t sure how much of it I believed, until I’d witnessed her in action. The way she carried herself, how her eyes scanned a room the moment she entered. A blade was always within reach and she calculated every step she took.
It didn’t take long for me to fully comprehend what she meant when she told me that taking her memories had allowed her the space and freedom to become the vampire she was now. I still hated myself for the pain I’d caused her, but it at least gave me a small amount of peace knowing she was okay.
The shifter walking beside me was another story.
We approached their table and found her leaned back in a wooden chair, the back legs balancing while she propped her feet up on the wood, her shadow stone dagger twirling around her fingers like a threatening parlor trick.
She looked me over and her eyes flicked to Cedar—knowing and seeing everything, while Bastian’s eyes widened for only a moment before he smirked at Cedar.
“Seems like a few hairs are askew, my friend,” Silvana muttered with a smirk and a raised brow towards Cedar. He rolled his eyes but said nothing.
I knew what this must look like—what it did look like. Fuck, what it smelled like. One whiff of me would tell them exactly what had happened in that alley.
Trying to ignore the sticky mess drying along my inner thigh, and the fact that I was buried in his scent, I acted as if nothing was amiss.
I’d fixed my braids on the short walk over, so at least I didn’t walk in with my hair looking as if I’d just been fucked.
But no, it hadn’t mattered; my scent said it all for me.
I sat down on the chair next to my sister, leaning back as if I belonged here with these people, and attempted to bury the nerves over watching Cedar attempt to find one of the most horrid males I’d ever met.
I repeated in my head over and over again that his life didn’t matter, he could die and it would change nothing for me.
I had my sister back, I was free of the Court of Ice, it wouldn’t matter.
But every single ounce of my being knew it was a lie, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could get away with burying the feelings and telling myself none of it was true.
“Stop worrying so much,” Silvana whispered next to me. “He taught me almost everything I know. I just add more flair and sparkle.” She smiled and looked back towards her best friend.
“Am I that obvious?” My eyes were glued to my lap, my fingers fidgeting in hopes it would help my mind be occupied.
She let out a breathy laugh. “Don’t worry, Cora. I’ve been able to read you since we were children. Lucky for you, not everyone has that talent.”
I nodded, my mind going in a million different directions, but a thud and a familiar chuckle had my eyes rising from my hiding spot. I watched as Cedar picked the head up and walked to the middle of the tavern, a smile on his face as if this was the best day at work he’d ever had.
“Has anyone lost a friend?” he questioned as he turned in a slow circle, holding the head up high for all the patrons to see.
I could tell the moment someone recognized him, because they stood.
He was shorter than Cedar, but wide. Light curly hair framed his face, a long beard barely touching his chest. His friend was seated next to him and he grabbed his arm, squeezing as if to keep him from doing anything stupid that would inevitably get them all killed.
Everyone here was quiet though—no one speaking up or saying a word to egg Cedar on.
When the male didn’t step forward from his seat, Cedar grinned, only to throw the head toward him. The decapitated body part rolled across the table until the dead male’s eyes were open, lifeless, and staring up at his once known friend.
“Fucker!” the male screamed as he stared down at the head, but Cedar just laughed fully. It was a sound I’d never heard from him before and it wasn’t a comical laugh. It was a laugh that just begged someone to try something—anything.
“You’re next unless you start offering up some information,” Cedar finally said.
The male looked back up at Cedar and around the tavern, but no one else moved a muscle.
Everyone’s eyes were glued to Cedar, except mine.
I caught sight of the faces, an array of emotions present at the spectacle taking place before them—anger, nervousness, fear.
It felt like all of the humans were waiting with bated breath while the vampires were on a mission to do something to end Cedar where he stood.
I started speculating just how many of them were involved with what was going on here and with Keres's plans, but I didn’t have time to wonder about it long.
I didn’t think, I just struck—my magic reaching out to stop a male who was attempting to move closer to him.
He had almost broken through the crowd, mere steps from Cedar, when his hands went to his throat.
He tried to cough, but nothing would come out.
I watched as his face turned red and his hand released a blade as it hit the table beside him.
A few people looked over. One tried to help him, but nothing worked—nor would it.
I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I did. Nothing could stop this.
I knew when Cedar turned around and saw what was happening, because I felt his eyes fall on me, burn through me.
But I didn’t look away from the male caught in my web, even when he dropped to the floor and both hands went to his chest, his knees slamming into the polished wood beneath him.
Blood started falling down from the corners of his eyes, his heart disintegrated behind his ribs.
Not breathing, heart rate gone, sprawled across the floor, his skin now an odd shade of purple and his eyes bloodshot.
Only then did I raise my eyes to meet Cedar’s.
The rest of the room had no idea what had happened, but he did.
No one else even batted an eye at me, not even my own sister.
They were too busy staring at the fallen vampire to attempt to look around and try to figure out exactly what caused the death.
“All right, who’s next?” Cedar asked, breaking the silence throughout the room.
It was the bartender who spoke up first, a human man with knowing eyes. “What do you want to know?”
“Voss. Where is he?”
Silence filled the room again, and this time it was the blond friend of the beheaded one that spoke. “He keeps to the western end of the court, near the river. He’s got an encampment there in Sabrecrest in the abandoned castle.”
Cedar smirked. “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be back.”
He glanced over at us and then walked out of the door. Silvana was the first to rise and follow him out, Bastian and I close behind.
Once we were all outside and a few blocks away, it was Bastian who broke the silence.
“So, are we going to talk about what that was?”
“What, what was?” Cedar asked.
“Probably the vampire who choked to death on his own spit and died in the middle of the tavern? Now I know I’m not the most knowledgeable when it comes to vampire kind, but I don’t typically see us drop dead without cause, correct?
” Silvana questioned, one silver brow arched in clear confusion.
But none of them looked at me. All eyes were glued to Cedar.
I thought he’d look at me, give me away, but instead he just shrugged. “No idea. Must’ve gotten too excited.” They both just stared at him until he turned away and started walking again. “I think I’m going to fly home. Bastian, you good getting them back?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. We’ll be back in no time if we run, and thankfully Ice Sickle has our witchy girl dressed appropriately now.”
I rolled my eyes, but said nothing as Cedar nodded, shifted, and then he was gone. Watching him fly away. It wasn’t until Silvana elbowed me that I noticed her eyes staring intently.
“My best friend, huh?” she said with a sly grin.
“No idea what you mean. Let’s get back before the sun rises.”
Bastian chuckled. “Oh yeah. The scent marking and all. Every single vampire in there knew who you belonged to.”
I shook my head and started back down the road. “I belong to no one, especially not him.”
Neither of them said anything after that, and for that I was thankful.
I just wasn’t sure why Cedar kept my secret the way he had, but I was too tired to question a gift such as that.
Explaining how I did what I did, when I wasn’t even sure how I’d done so myself, was too taxing an idea after everything else.
Staring out over the gardens, I watched as the sun began to brighten the sky. Blacks drifting to dark purples, gray clouds gliding across the space above me.
The knowledge of the sun rising in the near future had me turning back towards the manor, but a squawk from above caught my attention.
My heart dropped when I saw the creature—pure white feathers and gold talons.
The same carrier birds I watched from my window carry missives to and from the castle back in Whitbourne.
I’d hoped my last letter would hold him off longer, but I should’ve known better.
This was the second time he’d sent a bird, and I’d ignored it, giving him nothing in return.
However, this time, the bird dropped a letter at my feet, and instantly flew away, back to its master, if I had to assume. Apparently, he wasn’t required to wait for a response, which left me even more uneasy because it meant Keres wasn’t expecting me to object to whatever the parchment said.
I could leave it there, just go back inside, dip myself into a hot bath, and curl up in bed—not a single care left in the world. That felt like a great plan, but the anxiety over its contents, about what would happen if someone else found it, grew.
No, I couldn’t risk it.
My fingers shakily slid through the wax seal, opening the writing that would spell out my fate. The cold parchment clutched in my hands as my eyes scanned over its contents. I felt as if this were some sick Fates-given joke.
My heart raced the more I took in the written words. It didn’t matter how many times my eyes read over the short length of the missive, it didn’t change.
And one thing became abundantly clear to me—I would never be free.