Shadows Entwined (Shadows Descent #3)

14. Violet

14

VIOLET

Once we’re presentable, Thorne takes my hand and leads me out of the art room. As we descend the tower stairs, I feel emotions swirling inside me, but they are more positive than when I came up here.

The snow has intensified outside, blanketing the grounds in white. We hurry across the courtyard, our breaths puffing out in small clouds. As we approach the main building, I spot Flint and Caine huddled near the entrance, their faces etched with worry.

“Violet!” Flint calls out, relief evident in his voice as he spots us. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

I squeeze Thorne’s hand before letting go. “I needed some time to think. To process everything that’s happened.”

Caine nods, his expression solemn. “We understand, and we owe you an apology. We shouldn’t have tried to control your actions earlier.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” I agree, crossing my arms. “Don’t do it again. I need to be able to make my own choices, even if they’re risky ones, and I need you to trust me.”

Flint nods, his eyes earnest. “We promise. From now on, we’re here to support you, not dictate your actions.”

I study them for a moment, gauging their sincerity. Finally, I nod. “Okay. I appreciate that. And I’m sorry I ran off earlier. We need to stick together, especially now.”

Caine’s shoulders visibly relax. “We’re just glad you’re safe. With everything that’s going on, we were worried.”

“I know,” I say softly. “But I can take care of myself. You guys need to remember that.”

“We will,” Flint promises.

The mood shifts instantly, becoming more serious.

Caine twirls his cane, his expression thoughtful. “We need to figure out what exactly is supposed to happen during the Convergence and what role you’re expected to play in it. We thought we had Morgan to guide us, but that is no longer an option, so we are on our own.”

Flint nods in agreement. “We are enough.”

“So, the best way to figure that out is to find someone who was around at the last Convergence,” I state.

“Well, we know a few beings who fit that bill, but do we trust them?” Thorne says.

“Depends on who they are.”

“I want to say Aurelius,” Caine ventures.

“I agree,” I say. “I think he is our best bet at not being taken for a ride. He isn’t part of this.”

“How can you be so sure?” Thorne asks.

I glance at Flint to gauge where he is at, but he is staring at me like he thinks I’m going to run away or something. “He came with the Vampire High Council to warn us. I got the impression that he isn’t keen on having these Old Ones walking the Earth again.”

“A-hem.”

We turn at the deliberate throat clearing behind us to see Blackthorn standing there, looking a bit annoyed. “Why not me? I’m right here.”

“You were around at the last Convergence?” I ask warily.

“I was. Newly turned but still around.”

Now, there is a question that is screaming for an answer, but it seems rude and invasive. He is our Headmaster, not our friend.

But maybe he’s your dad.

Shut up, Vi, he isn’t your dad.

I smile, but judging by the frown he gives me, it probably looks more like a death rictus. “Well, that’s convenient,” I say, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “What can you tell us about the last Convergence, Professor?”

He inclines his head, suggesting we take this inside the library. I hesitate but assume that Amara isn’t still lying dead in the middle of the floor.

Luckily, I’m right. There is no sign of her or her death.

Blackthorn leads us to a round table and sits, narrowing his eyes. “It was chaos. The veil between worlds didn’t just thin, they disappeared completely, allowing beings of immense power to slip through. Many sought vessels, humans or other creatures they could possess, to anchor themselves to our reality. What you witnessed in the scrying glass yesterday was nothing compared to the last event.”

“How did it get fixed?” I ask. “I mean, someone had to close the veils. Was it Morgan?”

He nods. “I believe so. I don’t have facts, mere hearsay.”

“If she started stitching the veils,” Thorne says, “then this would make sense. They closed enough for the event to cease.”

“But why didn’t all the creatures who escaped to this realm not stay here?” I ask. “She must’ve had to force them back. How? This is what I need to know. I’m flying blind.”

But then I know. I shake my head at my stupidity.

“She became an Old One.”

Apparently, no one else figured that out, going purely off the looks of shock aimed in my direction. Even Blackthorn appears mildly shaken.

“That makes sense,” Thorne says, the first to recover. “But why didn’t she stay that way? The Order couldn’t have taken her down if she was a god.”

“No,” I agree, chewing my lip as my brain races. The answers are here, I just need to think. “Okay, maybe she couldn’t hold it. Maybe she wasn’t the right vessel. Strong, yes, but ultimately incompatible.”

“Or she was pregnant with you, and she was too strong. It’s entirely possible that the Old One she tried to possess rejected her as a vessel,” Blackthorn says.

Firstly, I want to ask him how he knows I was born fifteen hundred years ago, and secondly, I want to know what the hell that means. Priority wins, so I ignore the first and go with, “What do you mean rejected ? I was under the impression they had no choice.”

Blackthorn leans back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he considers my question. “The Old Ones are incredibly powerful beings, Miss Violet. While they do need vessels to anchor themselves in our reality, they are also discerning. If a vessel is incompatible or somehow threatens their existence, they may reject it.”

“And you think that’s what happened with Morgan?” Caine asks, his brow furrowed.

Blackthorn nods slowly. “It’s a possibility. If Morgan was already pregnant, the Old One might have sensed your potential and seen it as a threat. Or perhaps your presence made Morgan’s body unstable as a vessel.”

I feel a chill run down my spine at his words. “So, what does that mean for me? Am I supposed to be a more compatible vessel or less? Fuck! This just got even more twisted!”

Blackthorn glares at me and my expletive but fuck it. This warrants a good fuck. In more ways than one.

“Okay, wait,” Caine states, holding his hand up. “We need to back up a second here. What doesn’t make sense is that she pushed them back behind the veils if she wanted them out in the first place.”

I stare at him and clench my jaw. He has just thrown yet another cat amongst my increasingly agitated pigeons.

“Fuck’s sake,” I mumble, but Blackthorn hears me anyway and grimaces.

“Maybe she didn’t,” Flint says slowly, looking like a lightbulb went off over his head. “Maybe the Old Ones retreated on their own, taking the other creatures with them.”

“Huh?” I ask, scrunching up my nose. “Why would they do that?”

“Because the timing wasn’t right. They were waiting for you, Violet.”

“So, what you’re saying is that there are TWO plots against me?” I roar. “I’m sorry, Professor, but fuckity fuck fuck FUCK!”

“I’ll let that one slide,” Blackthorn mutters. “This is making more sense.”

“So, they sensed you inside Morgan when one of them possessed her fifteen hundred years ago and retreated, waiting for you.”

“But if the Convergence only happens every fifteen hundred years, that makes no sense. Why would they hang around for that long when they had a vessel ready and willing and able?”

“Like I said, they are discerning,” Blackthorn says. “This is the long, long game, Miss Violet. Fifteen hundred years is nothing to gods who have been around since the dawn of time.”

“Are we assuming that their plot is to take over Violet and take over the world?”

“Oh, God! This sounds like some sort of superhero movie!” I wail.

Thorne puts a comforting hand on my shoulder as I slump in my chair, overwhelmed by the significance of what we’re discussing. “It does sound far-fetched,” he admits, “but given everything we’ve learned, it’s not outside the realm of possibility.”

“So, what do we do?” Flint asks, his voice tight with concern. “How do we protect Violet from beings that have been plotting for millennia?”

Blackthorn’s expression is grim as he regards us. “We prepare as best we can.”

“That doesn’t help,” I say. “The Convergence is less than two days away, and we still don’t know how to stop it.”

Caine leans forward, his eyes intense. “Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way. Instead of trying to stop the Convergence, maybe we need to focus on preparing Violet to face it.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, wary but intrigued.

“If the Old Ones are expecting you to be their perfect vessel, we need to make sure they don’t reject you.”

“You mean, have one possess me?” My mouth has gone bone-dry.

“Yes. It’s the only way you will get enough power to force the rest of the creatures, plus them, back to where they came from.”

I hate to say it, but he’s right. There is no other way. We have a fast-approaching event that cannot be stopped. “But what happens to me?”

“We will be here to support you and anchor you. That’s all we have.”

“And if it’s not enough?”

The question hangs there as we stare at each other, knowing it doesn’t matter. This is something I have to do regardless of where that leaves me, Violet. It’s time to step up to the fate plate, with my bat swinging, and hope for the best.

It’s all we’ve got.