House of Secrets and Vows (Crown of Deceit #1)

25. A Torch of Hope

25

A TORCH OF HOPE

I stare at the passed-out prince.

Nevan didn’t kill Aella…

I could be a fool, my gullibility nothing more than naive hope. All the gods above know how badly I want Aella to be alive.

I might someday curse my stupidity, but I believe him.

I came here certain that Prince Nevan was nothing but some demon, that I'd get all the information out of him about the House of Blood that I could and then find a way to tear him down one way or another.

As much as my head tells me not to trust him, my heart convinces me that there is more to him than I initially thought. But that doesn't mean someone else hasn't killed Aella, and that the blame isn't still on the prince.

I recall the note given to me with the sleep elixir. It should last ten minutes. But every minute I wait makes any chance to escape riskier.

And if I wait until Nevan wakes up, I might lose my chance to escape altogether.

I loosen my white-knuckled grip on the dagger as I eye the door. Time is not on my side.

The Valazican people are counting on you.

Felix’s note had been clear: kill the prince.

If there’s one thing the resistance leader doesn’t tolerate, it’s fucking up an assignment. I'm already on thin ice after pushing him away only to find my way into Quin’s sheets. It's a crime to Felix’s ego he might never forgive, but if there’s any way to earn my way into his graces again, it would be finishing this mission.

Not that that should matter. There’s no going back to the resistance now. Whether I follow through or not, Valazica will be too dangerous for me.

But I have nowhere else to go.

I move to Nevan, who looks lifeless on the ground with his arms bent in an awkward position and one leg crossed over the other. I straddle him and lower myself, bringing the dagger to his throat.

One slice across his throat and my job here will be done. If what the note said is true, the blade is poisoned to be deadly to a House of Blood member.

Nevan looks so peaceful beneath me, eyes closed and body limp. I'm sure to be smited by the gods for killing a man while he's asleep and defenseless. Somehow it seems worse than stabbing someone in the back, one of the highest of the cardinal battle sins.

But keeping my soul pure is of no interest to me. I lost all my innocence long ago.

I inhale and will myself to finish him now and flee the palace while everyone is distracted at the ball. Lachlan’s presence complicates it all even more. He might have noticed Nevan and I leave and come looking if the prince doesn’t return soon.

Just as I came to the palace eager for vengeance, Lachlan won’t soon forget the death of his friend. Their entire group of friends has seen me and are well aware of my connection to Nevan. Gods, I am the first person he’d introduced to them.

What will they think once they hear I killed him? Nevan has made it clear that they are unaware of his curse. His death would appear to be in cold blood to everyone, save for Maddox and, perhaps, Alabek.

How far would his friends go to avenge him?

It strikes me that I don’t want them to hate me, that in that single night of banter and laughing at The Red Raven, I’d felt like part of the group.

I can't worry about something as trivial as a momentary feeling of belonging. There are far too many other issues I need to juggle.

If I can make it to the resistance headquarters, I can tell Felix what I've done and demand some money to help me flee the kingdom.

Perhaps I can settle in Elderburn. Surely, no one will find me there.

“Fuck,” I curse to myself.

Nevan had something to tell me before the elixir knocked him out, I can feel it. If I follow through, I'll spend the rest of my life wondering what exactly he wanted to say.

If there’s even the smallest of chances that Aella could be alive, how can I flee the kingdom?

My knuckles are white again from gripping the dagger so hard. I switch it to the other hand and stretch my fingers.

As I make my decision, I lower the weapon to my side and glance at the shut door. How long has the prince been asleep?

Five minutes? Less?

If someone walks in, I’m fucked. Maybe they'll believe a lie that he just drank too much, but I doubt it. Not when we left the ball so shortly after it began.

If I'd been smart, I would have let him get nice and drunk first, but I'd wanted everyone to be busy at the ball so I could escape.

When laughter rings outside the door, I raise the weapon again, but the sound quiets as the people passing by continue.

Once Nevan awakes, he might strike me.

Outside of his need for blood, I don’t know what else about him has changed with the curse. Somehow he’d realized I was the priestess who’d heard his confession, which means he has some enhanced abilities.

I can only hope everyone else is too occupied at the ball to come in here as I slide off the prince and turn him onto his stomach with a grunt. I tear a section of fabric from my dress and bind his hands behind him before flipping him to his back.

The click of the door handle sends a wave of panic through me. Quickly, I fall back onto the passed-out prince and lean in for a pretend kiss, setting my dagger next to him so his body blocks it from anyone’s view.

The next sound is a feminine giggle followed by a masculine voice promising a good time.

I sit up on top of the prince and cover his closed eyes with my hand. “This room is already taken.”

They both gape at my bunched dress and scandalous position.

“Sorry,” the woman mumbles as the man’s gaze lingers on my exposed thigh.

I let my hair fall over Nevan’s face as I pretend to kiss his neck.

When the door clicks shut, I slide off of him.

His limbs twitch, and I grab the dagger.

As his eyes snap open, I bring the blade to his neck. “I wouldn’t sit up if I were you.”

He glances at me then tugs on his bound hands.

“What happened to Aella?” I ask.

His gaze narrows. “Do you plan to kill me once I tell you?”

“What happened to her?” I don't know what I plan to do. I just need to know if there is any chance that she could be alive.

I keep my expression firm.

Nevan frowns, and if I'm not mistaken, hurt flashes across his features.

“I drank from her,” he says. “I didn’t want to. I didn’t know if I’d be able to stop. I’d never drank from a person before. And I haven’t since. But I’d hoped if I just drank from her and stopped, we could leave the tavern and my initiation would be over.” He tips his head back in a sarcastic snort. “I was wrong. So fucking wrong.”

“So, she’s dead?” Hoping for anything else will only lead to pain.

“I don’t know. I drank from her but somehow found the will to stop. It was so fucking hard. Blood from the vein is...it’s what my body craves. But I didn’t want to be a monster like them, and I knew when I found the strength to pull away, I could be different. I ordered them to stop, but Mavet laughed in my face.

“I was too late anyway. Everyone else but your friend and the barmaid was dead. Mavet took the woman I drank from back to his den. He told me ‘he’d take good care of her’ and I almost wished I’d have killed her. It would have been the true mercy. The Blood King does nothing out of kindness.”

Aella might be alive.

The dagger slips from my hand and falls to the ground.

The realization that my friend might be out there, waiting for me to rescue her, is like a punch to my torso.

If Aella does still live, what has her life become...

By the time I come out of my daze, Nevan has ripped apart my pathetic attempt at binding him and has the dagger aimed at my neck.

The steel of the blade is cold against my throat. The poison on the blade might not affect me, but the weapon is enough to end my life.

“You came here to kill me?” He doesn’t sound angry, only hurt. Indentations imprint his skin where I had the fabric bound around his wrists.

“I came here because I was chosen as the Solstice Priestess,” I say. “But yes, I wanted answers and revenge.”

There's no point in lying. All the cards are on the table now.

He stares at the dagger. “And what’s your plan now? Tell the world what you know so I’ll never take the throne?”

“I’m not sure. I….” I should care what happens to the kingdom, but right now all I can picture is Aella trapped in some cell wherever the Blood King lives, being used as a human blood bank.

Or worse.

The hurt in his stare shifts to horror as he stares at the dagger pressed to my neck.

“Help me.” My voice cracks. When he doesn’t respond, I add, “Help me save my friend, and I swear I will take your secret to the grave. I will do nothing to stop you from being named heir or becoming king.”

Our gazes meet, and a surge of his disgust strikes me.

His grip on the dagger loosens as he lowers it to his side. “I don’t know if she’s even still alive. It’s been months since Mavet took her.”

“If we find out she’s dead, you can kill me too.” I will the tears pooling in my eyes to dry, but I can’t stop them as they overflow and drip down my cheek.

He reaches up and wipes my cheek gently with the back of his fingers. “And if I don’t want to kill you?”

I don’t answer. I can’t bear the thought that I might be too late and Aella was spared only to be dead by the time I find her. “Do we have a deal?”

He reaches out the hand not holding the dagger and as I shake it, every inch of my skin tingles.

“How do I know you won’t change your mind and kill me anyway?” he asks, our hands still locked.

“You’ll never let your guard down enough to let me.” Any trust I might have built with him this past week is gone now.

As our gazes remain locked, I can’t read his expression. His disgust has faded, and whatever connection to his emotion I’d found is no longer there.

He pulls away first. “We can meet tomorrow and figure out how to learn what happened to your friend.”

“Can’t you just ask Mavet?” As I ask the question, I know nothing that easy will work.

“If he knows I want her and she’s still alive, he’ll likely kill her to piss me off. I’m not his favorite person these days.” He gives me the dagger back. “Tomorrow, the official announcement of my Heir Ceremony goes out. Once he hears, he’ll want me as a loyal House of Blood member even more.”

I pull the skirt of my dress to the side and strap the dagger back to my thigh. “Wouldn’t it be easier just to kill me now?”

He picks up the torn fabric that had bound his hands and slips it into his jacket pocket. “I’ve made it this long without becoming a monster. I don’t plan to become one now.”

He might not intend to give into his darker desires, but trusting him is like playing with fire—sooner or later, I’m bound to get burned.