Page 21 of Blood Bond

ChapterFourteen

Ihave no idea what Shadow Holme is or who Lucius might be, but Naneve and Killian both nod in understanding as Seth moves with a sense of purpose. We’ve come away from the stairs, leaving the thirsty locked in the stairwell. There’s no light that can touch them there; no windows in that space. Rot and decay will see the end of their bodies, but only the woman I touched has returned to what she was before. The others remain in their decaying states.

Maybe it's an illusion or some magic that binds them to their monstrous forms.

Seth's eyes are a deep red again, his wings retracted. His chest is marred with the blood of those he's killed. We follow him through the maze that is Skin Trade, moving in silence.

“What are we looking for?” I finally muster the courage to ask.

“A book,” Seth replies, but he offers no further details.

I wonder what could be so special about a book, but Killian and Naneve seem to know. They say nothing as we continue.

“Are you sure he has the book, Sire?” Killian asks.

“I am certain. You saw him at the Summers' residence. My brother is incapable of such feats. What he has become is not of this world, and there is only one source for that transformation,” Seth responds with conviction.

“Then why are we checking?” Naneve questions.

“Because I need to be certain.”

We descend the staircase, moving through the winding labyrinth of doors. The building is deep, built into and onto the cliffs—a baffling arrangement of doors, windows, and hallways, an underground cavern of mystery and intrigue.

Finally, we reach the bottom, and I dare not look back at the dizzying descent we’ve made. Every surface appears sculpted from the most delicate materials, each level leading to a corridor, the entire place eerily silent with locked doors. It feels like something out of a fantastical tale, filled with enchantment.

But the true marvel unveils itself when we reach a level dominated by grand metal gates. They stretch from floor to ceiling, adorned in shades of black and gold. The opulence is striking, and I feel the atmosphere tighten around us, as if all oxygen has been sucked out of the air. We stand, transfixed, gazing at the gates where Seth is looking. On the floor lies a lock, and it is broken.

ChapterFifteen

With a grunt, Killian leans into the heavy gate, pushing it open. The hinges creak with disuse. Stepping inside, he flips the light switch, and the room is bathed in a warm yellow glow. Despite the illumination, shadows cling to the corners of the vast space, as if they have gathered there for decades on end.

The shelves, built into the walls from floor to ceiling, are crammed with books in every conceivable colour, from vibrant hues to neutral shades and everything in between. Some spines are so old they're falling apart at the seams, their covers tattered and held together by mere tendrils of cloth.

I can’t help but gasp in amazement. I feel like Belle in 'Beauty and the Beast', exploring the palace library. All those books, just waiting to be read. I yearn to sift through them all.

My awe is quickly shattered by the heartbreaking sight at the centre of the room – books strewn haphazardly across the floor, their pages torn out and shredded by claws.

“Quite the … display,” Killian comments grimly, stepping closer and nudging the books with his foot, causing their pages to flutter. “Did he have some kind of rage attack?”

Seth’s expression remains inscrutable, but his eyes, intensifying in redness, betray the truth. “Jealousy is a dangerous emotion.”

Without making any effort to pick up the scattered books, Seth strides forward, his scarlet gaze scanning the room. “Rowena,” he calls out, his voice reverberating through the space, echoing off the walls and bouncing back from the lofty ceiling. I'm not sure who he's searching for, but the urgency in his voice intensifies as we move deeper into the library, navigating the labyrinthine shelves, an endless sea of words.

We round a corner, and I stifle a gasp, quickly covering my mouth as if to suppress the horror.

“Rowena—” Seth rushes toward the woman before us, his voice a mix of distress and shock.

“Oh, God,” I whisper, feeling a surge of nausea in my throat. My stomach churns as I avert my gaze, but the horrifying image is already seared into my mind. She's seated in a chair, deep crimson rivers running down her chest, dripping onto a shattered teacup on the floor beside her. Her head is tilted at an unnatural angle, her throat gruesomely slashed. The tendons are so brutally severed it's as if she's nearly been decapitated.

Seth stands silently before her, staring down at her lifeless body. The only evidence of emotion is the hardening of his jaw, a subtle yet powerful display of his inner turmoil.

Killian's observationcuts through the tense atmosphere. "Donovan has gone mad."

Seth slowly shakes his head, a mixture of sorrow and resignation in his movement. "I wish that were the reason. At least then, we could find some rationale for his actions. But this is just my brother." He exhales deeply, his nostrils flaring as his gaze shifts from Rowena’s body to the vault with its door slightly ajar.

Curiosity pulls me towards the vault, the destruction within evident. Objects and books lie scattered on the floor, and metal covers lining the walls, resembling safety deposit boxes, are dented and clawed through.

"It's gone," Naneve says, her voice tinged with realisation.

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