Page 23 of Embers of Fate
I watch as the color drains from Mila’s face, her pale complexion turning ghostly white. She wrings her wrist anxiously, her pink lips mouthing soundless words as she struggles to find a response. “I...” she manages, blinking rapidly, and my heart goes out to her.
Finally, I reach Mila, slipping between her and the security guard. “It’s alright. We’re leaving,” I say, resolved as I sweep a hand around my friend’s arm and all but drag her away from the towering figure.
The guard remains undisturbed, his piercing gaze tracking our every move as we ascend the stairs and leave the exhibit room behind. My heart pounds in my chest, a mixture of adrenaline and fear coursing through my veins.
We cover the Opera’s grand hall with speedy strides, my hand pushing against the heavy doors until we finally make it out of the beautiful architectural beast. The fresh air hits my face, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm my frayed nerves.
As soon as we’re in the clear, I stop and turn to face Mila, my eyes narrowing. “Mila,” I all but hiss, my voice rising with each word, “what are you doing here? Are you following me?” If the pitch of my voice goes any higher, I’ll be squealing.
Mila’s expression darkens with distress, her brow furrowing. “Sam, I had to come,” she says, her tone grave and heavy. She swallows hard, tugging a stray lock of fawn hair behind her ear. “I saw you sneak out of the manor. You were with the Draken boy...” She purses her lips, and I can see the concern etched on her face. “You need to put a stop to this. It’s dangerous.”
“I know that!” I snap, exasperation bubbling up inside me. Gods, that was so mean. I hold my breath for a moment, trying to cool off my temper. “But Mila... I can’t.” A pause, my determination strengthening with each passing second. “I won’t.”
“Listen...” Mila’s demeanor softens as she takes my hand in hers. “Let’s talk in that cafe over there.” She points to a small bistro across the street, her eyes pleading. “You can make your choice when you hear what I have to say.” My friend gives me a bitter smile, and a sense of unease settles in the pit of my stomach.
“Alright,” I mumble, nodding my head in agreement.
When we make it to the small shop, dark clouds gather above us, the air turning cool and moist. A gust of wind picks up my hair, soft strands caressing my cheeks... Gooseflesh shoots up my arms. A bad omen.
I pull out a chair and sit down warily, my mind racing with the possibilities of what Mila might know. And I’m not sure I want to learn what that is.
A server arrives, and Mila has the gall to order ice cream, her face brightening with childlike glee.
“Do you want some?” she asks, her voice dripping with adorable naivete. You’d think we were here simply to hang out, without a care in the world.
I pass on the offer with a dismissive wave of my hand, my appetite long gone.
“Are you sure?” Mila quirks up an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling. “I hear their chocolate ice cream is to die for,” she says, her voice giddy and carefree.
I heave a sigh, my patience wearing thin. “I’m all ears, Mila.” The words come out of my mouth reluctantly, a sense of dread creeping up my spine. “What is this news that cannot wait?”
Mila’s face straightens, all traces of humor vanishing in an instant. She waits for the server to leave, then leans in closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. “There’s been talk in the clan ever since Bram Draken stormed into the manor.”
“There’salwaystalk in the clan,” I dismiss with a scowl, my frustration mounting. “Our brothers are gossiperspar excellence!” I choke out a dry laugh, hoping to alleviate the tension, but Mila’s expression remains flat as a board.
“Sam...” she begins, her stare darkening with each word. “Nikolaas Draken is akiller.”
Sheer black dread washes over me, my blood running cold. I frown in disbelief, my mind reeling. “What are you talking about?” I manage to say the words, my voice barely above a whisper.
“He was exiled from the Draken clan for nearly a decade...” Mila adds, her tone grave.
“Exiled?” I scrunch my nose, shaking my head. “I’m sure that’s not right.” She’s got it all wrong. “That’s not what I know, what I’ve heard.”
Mila shrugs her shoulders, her face impassive. “That’s what the clan says,” she rebuffs, as if the Ursa clan were an all-knowing deity. “If indeed he was banished by his own kin, then...”
I’m not liking where this conversation is headed, my heart pounding in my ears. “That was ten years ago!” I stammer, my voice rising with each word. “Nik was a child when he was sent away. Have you met Bram? The guy’s a fucking bastard! I’m sure when their parents died, he couldn’t wait to be rid of Nik.” My voice comes out impassioned, alight with fury and disbelief.
“My brother says Nik killed them,” Mila says, her tone wry and cutting, making me despise her, albeit briefly.
I wince, my stomach churning. “Killed, who?”
“His parents.”
My mouth slackens, my eyes widening in shock. “Mila!” I gasp, my heart sinking. She will stop at nothing to make me break away from Nik. “That’s completely ludicrous! You can’t believe these stories. They’re nothing but lies... They’re the clan’s propaganda to feed our hatred for the Drakens.” I pause, taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart. “That’s all this is.”
Mila’s ice cream arrives, and it’s the most beautiful dish I’ve ever seen. The rich, velvety chocolate is piled high in an elegant glass bowl, the surface smooth and glossy like a polished mirror, with two golden wafers and gold dust sprinkled on top. Gods, it looks delicious. I shut my eyes and shake my head, refocusing on the conversation at hand. “Anyway... who told Dima that ridiculous story?”
Even as the most gorgeous ice cream sits in front of her, Mila stares at me dead in the eye, her gaze unwavering. “It was your brother, Gavriil.”
