Page 85 of Blood So Brutal

I would fight for them. I would survive this forthem.

No matter what Asmodeus forced me to do in the meantime.

Chapter 26

Wolf

Ifought every fucking instinct in my body that told me to go after them. I made peace with my lack of wings. I accepted it for what it was, because anything else would be torture.

But knowing that Huntyr was out there with my brother, flying across the kingdom all the way back to the crumbling, vile town of Midgrave?

And knowing she was going to seehim—the male who put those scars on her back?

That was its own form of torture. Even the scars on my back itched, urging me to go after them, to fly into the night sky and protect her, no matter the cost.

I could do nothing but sit in the bed that reeked of her and wait for them to return.

Asmodeus was thoroughly distracted, spending his time bottle-deep with Luseyar in his study. I made sure they wouldn’t be looking for Huntyr or Jessiah at any point tonight so the two could make it out during the night and arrive before anyone noticed they were missing.

But the sun approached the horizon. They were running out of time.

I returned my attention to the book in my lap and tried to focus on anything else. It was the same book Huntyr had been reading, and she folded one of the pages in the corner to keep her place. I scanned the page, inhaling every word.

A lot of it, I heard when I was younger. I never read these specific books, but I remembered a few details from stories the maids would tell us as children.

Never when my father was around, of course. He never wanted us to hear of such things. The less we knew, the better. It was one of his many tactics to keep us at his mercy.

The book talked of the vampyre history, but it also talked of the hungry ones.

The hungry ones had been around for centuries, but never in such high numbers. The book explained their origin, how the first vampyre to lose control of their blood lust was cursed, a reminder to everyone of what would happen when one lost control.

But then, the curse grew and grew.

After a few decades, it did not matter if you lost control of your thirst or not. Vampyres of completely sound minds were at risk, and the curse spread through the kingdom like a wildfire in the valley.

Nobody was safe.

Nobody would be safe until the curse was broken.

I flipped the page, expecting to see more about the curse andhowit was supposed to be broken, but the page had been ripped out.

Ripped out.

Anger immediately flooded my senses. I knew exactly who would do something like this. If there really was a way to break the curse, to cure the hungry ones, my father would ensure nobody else knew about it.

The cheating fucking bastard.

I threw the book from my lap and sauntered to the bathroom, pacing back and forth a few times as I tried to calm my temper.

He wanted us to be so weak, it made me sick. I didn’t even have to ask myself if he would be capable of such a thing. I already knew the answer. Someone who sliced their son’s wings from their back was capable of anything.

I pulled off my shirt and turned around in the mirror, glancing over my shoulder to see the massive, hideous scars that remained. My chest tightened. I didn’t give myself time to think about my missing wings after it happened. All I cared about was Huntyr—getting her out of that dungeon alive.

That was still my main focus.

If I had to lose my wings to keep her safe, so fucking be it. I meant what I said. I would cut them off my own back if it meant protecting her.

But looking in the mirror right now still sent a cold shudder of disgust through me. My black wings were bad enough. They were an anomaly, a signal to everyone that I was unworthy. But to have no wings at all?

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