Page 25 of Blood So Brutal

“Nearly, but not impossible. You know the way.”

His jaw tightened. “No, it’s too risky. Not happening.”

“Just think about it, Jessiah,” I pushed. “If I run away again and get killed by a vampyre, it will be you and Wolf who take the punishments for me. Help me with this one thing, and I swear I’ll help you.”

He eyed me carefully. Jessiah was smart, calculated, and this was risky.

But I couldn’t sit around and wait to be played like some card in a game.

“Flying all the way to Midgrave will take hours,” he started. “They’ll notice if you’re gone, Wolf especially.”

I cursed under my breath. “Then we’ll go when he’s distracted. It doesn’t have to be tonight. I can wait. But if you promise to take me there the second you can, I’ll go along with Asmodeus’s plans.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You have no idea what Asmodeus has planned for you, do you?”

I could picture a few things. “I’m a smart girl, Jessiah. I can figure it out.”

His chest rose and fell inches from me. He eyed me like he was trying to decide if he could trust me or not, like he was trying to decipher the code in all my lies.

But the truth? The truth was that I wasn’t lying. If I could get back home and let Lord and Rummy know I was okay, I could live with this fate. I could live with my death, even.

“Fine,” he said after a while, uncrossing his arms and shoving them in his pockets. “But don’t mention a word of this until the coast is clear. And you’ll stop fighting Wolf. He’s a fucking idiot when it comes to you.”

I ignored the way my chest tightened at his words. He might care for me now, but it didn’t matter. Everything he did to me, everything he lied to me about…

If I wanted to survive, I couldn’t trust him. Not again.

I made that mistake one too many times.

“Deal.”

Chapter 8

Wolf

My father had a thing for large parties. When I was younger, I loved them. It gave me an excuse to run away for a while, to sneak wine and ale and eat the nicest foods from all over the kingdom.

But now? It made me sick to see the corrupt, evil archangel and his closest companions celebrating and drinking as if they had no problems in this world, as if they weren’t the sole ones responsible for people dying and starving all around Vaehatis.

I gave Huntyr time alone to prepare. My father, of course, required her to wear a certain dress that he made specially for this event. She had gone from his prisoner in the dungeon to his prized possession in his castle.

How fucking fitting.

Of course, all of this was another ploy in his sick, twisted games. He didn’t care about Huntyr’s birthday. He sure as all hells didn’t care about celebrating her or making her feel special tonight.

This was all for him. He had something to gain from this, and every nerve in my body tensed when I thought about what that could possibly be.

I knocked on my bedroom door twice. I wasn’t usually one for knocking, but tonight felt different. Huntyr wasn’t just in there rotting away, waiting for me to come back with a bowl of soup so she could yell and fight again.

When she didn’t answer, I cracked the door open. “Huntyr?”

I found her in the doorway of the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror that hung from the wall. She wore a floor-length gold gown that covered her arms in long strings of draping jewels. Much of her back was exposed, as were the scars that lingered there. Her hair was tucked up, showing her neck and the delicate skin of her shoulders.

“I don’t want to do this,” she said, barely a whisper.

I stepped into the room and shut the door behind me. I approached until I was behind her in the reflection, able to look into her eyes from behind. “That makes two of us.”

She scoffed. “Don’t pretend like we’re in the same situation here, Wolf.”

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