Page 89 of Caller of Crows
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It wasn't like Sven's mind was made up. The truth was, he had no fucking clue what was going to happen. Yesterday, when Altair had denied him permission to attend the funeral, Sven had known what he wanted: Freedom. He'd wanted to rebel against Altair's rule and assert his independence.
Today, his motives felt more complicated. His desires less clear.
He took a deep, bracing breath and steeled himself as he walked up the front porch toward the door. The sight of the place sent a pang to his chest. He and his mother had only lived here for a short while, but he remembered how happy his mother had been to have a real house, finally. A place where they didn't need to be afraid.
Her sanctuary.
Tears filled Sven's eyes when he realized that she wouldn't return to this place again.
Sven closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the front door, breathing heavily through the ache in his lungs.
He hadn't been able to save her the way he'd promised.
Swallowing heavily, he found his keys and unlocked the door.
A strange feeling of warmth washed over him when he entered his old home.
This place felt like home, still. It felt familiar. Comfortable. Yet nothing was right anymore.
Nothing ever would be.
A shudder worked its way through Sven's body at that thought. It didn't matter. Nothing fucking mattered.
A sound made him lift his head and look up. It had come from somewhere up the stairs, but there was no one there, yet somehow, he felt that he wasn't alone.
He stepped farther inside the house. Another faint noise echoed through the hallways. This time, Sven recognized it. The creak of a loose floorboard outside the bedroom.
His heartbeat sped up.
What if he wasn't alone? What if it was an intruder or something?
What if it was a vampire?
Sven shook his head at himself. He was imagining things, and he needed to calm the fuck down. If a vampire were waiting to ambush him here, it would have attacked already, right? Not bothered to play hide and seek in his mother's house.
Probably.
Before Sven could convince himself of his own logic, he walked across the hallway and pushed the bedroom door open.
The next thing he knew, something pricked the back of his neck and his vision began to blur.
Shit.
Just as he started to black out, he caught sight of something dark fluttering outside the window. Black feathers.
Fuck, what was happening?
His legs gave out beneath him and he fell to his knees, then the world tilted around him, and everything went dark.
ChapterTwenty-Four
Anger burned inside Altair's chest like a raging firestorm. He should have known Mordyn was up to something. He'd been blissfully unaware, though, until he'd returned to his room after his meeting, only to find that Sven was gone. The crow in his room had confirmed that the mortal had left with Mordyn's help, and Altair's entire world had collapsed around him.
He was going to kill his friend. Slowly. He would tear Mordyn into pieces and then stake those pieces. One by one.
He made his way straight to Mordyn's room and banged on the door. It took Mordyn several minutes to answer, and when he did, he looked anything but surprised.
