Page 112 of Vow of the Undead
I lunged for her but Drak was faster. With his eyes still locked on Astrid, he stooped to catch Silver in his arms. She fell into his chest and he righted her easily.
I stood at his side, unsure if I wanted to reach out to give Silver a reassuring touch. Everything seemed to cause her to flinch. The poor child.
No, she was twenty-six, the same age as me. We were no longer children, but she was just as terrified and I was…just as selfish. I’d successfully pushed her from my mind. For twenty years, I willfully forgot the real Silver.
When they stole her away, I stole her name, her identity, her life.
My father said it would keep us all safe, that the Grimward wouldn’t come back looking for the black-eyed witch if they believed they’d already executed her.
So I forgot Lux. I became Silver.
I hid behind her name just as I hid behind the hatch door under our shared bed.
Everything within me wanted to brush my fingers over her face, to twine my hand with hers. We used to fall asleep holding hands, snuggling for warmth and for the love we’d shared since birth. Even if she wasn’t a witch, she honored the Gods just as much and our mother raised us the same, secretly, with the truth of our ancestors and the Allfather who created us all. I’d follow in my mother’s footsteps as a seerborn, and Silver was supposed to be right there with me, gathering supplies for sacrifice, watching for the eyes in the darkness that lurked after me and our mother.
She’d always helped protect me, but I didn’t do the same for her when the time came.
“So,” Astrid said, folding her arms now that her handswere free of Silver. “I trust that you don’t need your little seer wife to tell you what will come next?” Her smooth plump lips cracked into a crescent smile. Her eyes slid to me.
Drak stiffened. “You let Silver out to fuck with me?”
I flicked my attention up at the king. His gaze slid between Astrid and Sten.
Astrid’s laugh radiated like the clang of metal on metal. “Did I even need to let her out for that? Your betrothed would find out eventually.” Turning her gold eyes on me, they flashed red. “Whatisyour name anyway?” I opened my mouth, unsure if I would actually tell her when she cut me off. “Actually, I don’t care as long as your little betrothed kills you. Which I have no doubt she’ll do now that she’s seen what you’ve done to her sister.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” he breathed. “Lux isn’t just a witch.”
Astrid’s brows peaked. “You think I don’t know? She’s the huntress. Those hideous eyes prove it. The black ink of Odin’s runes is written into her very soul.”
I drew a jagged breath. Even Astrid knew more than I did about my Calling. The courtiers and council members knew the real history. They knew of the Gods. It was never about believing Odin and Freya didn’t exist, it was about hiding the truth. Like King Drakkar, I suspected they all wanted to be Gods—in control. The witch hunts, exiling anyone who dared breathe Odin’s name was evidence of this. Evidence I should have seen a long time ago.
But as much as I wanted to be, I was never truly a seer. Not like my mother. I was never selfless enough to see into the past, into the future, for the good of the people of Vylheim and all of Midgard.
Silver shuffled away from King Drakkar, but his hand shot out and wrapped around her arm. His hold was so tight her skin turned white.
I seethed. “Drak, what’s going on?”
Astrid swept her eyes over me. “Don’t you see, girl? Your king has kept your sweet twin sister imprisoned and tortured. He could have released her when he took King Roderic’s throne, but he didn’t. In fact, he ordered for her lips to be sewn shut.”
Pain lanced through my chest. My heart ached with every erratic beat as my gaze sliced from her to the king.
“Is this true?” I whispered, unable to find the energy behind my voice.
His jaw flexed and it was enough for me to understand. Even still, he confirmed it, and King Drakkar never lied. “Yes. Your sister is unstable?—”
“No.” I shook my head and stepped back. Silver’s eyes darted from me to him. The poor girl. My sister never deserved this. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s been here all this time and you let me believe you actually cared about me? All while you kept my sister trapped.”
His voice dropped low and curled with menace. “She’s unstable.”
I scoffed. “Like your mother? Do you torture that poor woman too?” Like Silver, I’d shoved Drak’s mother out of my mind. I’d locked away the pieces of this world I wanted to forget, and I’d done it successfully.
This was my greatest skill and the only way I survived—selfishly ignoring the people who suffered the most. I was so good at it that I didn’t even think of her when I kissed her son. When I let myself enjoy it, and almost enjoy him.
I was even more fucked up than I wanted to admit.
“I don’t torture anyone,” he said.
“Right, you just kill them and then taste their blood.” I nodded, mouth twisted into a grimace.
