Page 76 of Slaying the Vampire Conqueror

I thought my brother was dead, and he wasn’t. He was alive and he was right here in front of me.

Those simple facts left me dizzy and lightheaded.

I wasn’t sure when, but we’d started holding hands, hisclutched around mine like he wasn’t sure I was real. He’d always had uncommonly long fingers, though now they seemed more bonelike than they were before, the knuckles swollen and the pale skin nicked with scars.

I was never going to let go of him ever again.

But then his gleeful grin faded. He reached for my blindfold again.

“But you did that,” he murmured. “Y-you?—”

I had never before allowed myself to feel anything but gratefulness when I thought of my decision to join the Arachessen. Now, for the first time, I felt embarrassed by it.

Then, just as quickly, angry for even feeling that way.

I pushed his hand away again.

“The Arachessen is my family,” I said.

I wished I couldn’t feel the hurt in Naro’s presence at that. Nor the disgusted pity.

“Family that take your eyes?”

I clenched my jaw, letting out air between my teeth.

“And what about the vampires?” Naro spat. “Are theyfamilytoo?”

Weaver. Talking to Naro had pulled me from between my three roles. Suddenly it hit me just how much I had revealed to my brother, even in this short conversation. Already, I had said far too much of the truth—especially considering that vampires slept mere rooms away.

“They’re—” I lowered my voice. “It’s complicated, Naro.”

But Naro’s anger rose and rose. His threads quaked erratically.

“It isn’tcomplicated,” he said, pushing himself upright. “You—you broke into the Thorn King’s palace to murder him. Y-y-you?—”

The Thorn King.

The words skewered me through the chest, driven by the intensity of Naro’s fury. That wasn’t false. Influenced by his withdrawal symptoms, yes, but not false.

“The Thorn King,” I hissed. “What the hell are you doing, calling him that, after what he did to our home?”

But Naro’s threads were unraveling now, his composure collapsing. His body trembled violently, and he fought to push himself out of bed and kept failing.

“You killed him,” he snarled. “Y-you k-killed him. You and the vampire, Vivi—youkilledhim!”

“Yes,” I snapped. “Tarkan is dead and you’re free now. I know you had to do what you had to for survival. I don’t—” I stumbled over the words, involuntarily. “I don’t blame you for that. It isn’t your fault?—”

“You killed him!” Naro roared, and tried to fling himself out of the bed, only to go crashing to the floor.

Weaver, no.

My heart was beating fast, my throat tight. I no longer felt the sensation of tears, but my nose and throat prickled.

Footsteps approached, probably alerted by the noise. I knelt beside my brother and, with shaky hands, pressed my fingers to his temple, sending him the strongest sedation I could.

He thrashed for a few seconds longer, then went limp.

Atrius stood in the doorway. I felt him there, but I ignored him. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I couldn’t open my mouth to speak, anyway. It wouldn’t be words that came out.

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