Page 27 of Sophie's Ruin
She was looking at me expectantly, and after another beat of silence, I stepped inside and followed her deeper into the small but cozy house. My vampire ears picked up on lively banter and laughter drifting from the direction we were heading. When we walked into the cramped kitchen, Waylon and Amelie promptly stepped away from each other, putting as much distance between them as the tight space allowed. Waylon was trying and failing at hiding a grin, and Amelie’s cheeks were flushed when they both whipped their heads to the kitchen’s entrance.
“Sophie!” Amelie exclaimed, clearly happy to see me. “Would you like some tea?” she asked in a soft voice, which was so much like her mother’s.
“Yes, please.” I smiled at her. “Where is Celeste?” I asked.
The witch been here earlier—her scent still lingered in the air.
“She left to visit Agatha,” Genevieve replied while setting out four simple teacups on the table.
My heart thumped over in my chest. Did Celeste somehow suspect that Agatha’s son had been helping me develop my magic? I quickly dismissed the thought. I hadn’t been followed the last two nights, I was sure of it. She had no way of knowing…unless the hex bag had not only a tracking spell on it but also a spying one. I pulled the pouch out of my pocket and eyed it suspiciously.
“Sophie, can we talk in private for a moment?” Waylon asked, tension bracketing his mouth. Gone was the mischievous, carefree grin from a few minutes ago. Now, Waylon’s face was all hard lines and wariness.
“Sure,” I replied, as I shoved the hex bag back into my pocket and walked out of the kitchen.
Waylon followed me back to the front door, and we stepped outside, stopping on the other side of the threshold.
“So, you and Amelie?” I asked without further ado.
Waylon’s brows slammed down as he shifted from foot to foot.
“Her family took me in…they had an extra room,” he said, clasping the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable with this conversation. “It’s not just her and Genevieve, of course. There is a man of the house—Alaric, Genevieve’s husband and Amelie’s father,” he added, looking down and to the side as if lost in thought.
He must have borrowed the loose white shirt and buckskin breeches he was wearing from the warlock. It was strange seeing Waylon in anything but the guard leathers, but the simple clothing suited him. Amelie suited him as well.
“Amelie seems very genuine and sweet,” I said, and Waylon’s forest-green eyes shot to mine.
“I don’t need your approval,” he grumbled, his fair brows knitting.
“I know. Just like I didn’t need yours,” I said simply.
I hadn’t asked for his approval before deciding to become a vampire. Waylon was a lifelong friend and had been more in the past, but only one person’s opinion had mattered to me back then—my father’s. A pang pierced my heart at the thought. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been setting off toward the Northern region while we’d been preparing for war. He would have still been traveling when I’d defeated the Dark Witches. Had the clans begun spreading the lie that they’d pushed the Dark Witches back to the Black Forest? Had my father turned around when he’d heard it?
I wanted to see him, but fear took root in my chest. What if the clans decided to use him in addition to Henry to lure me out? I swallowed thickly. The clans didn’t know who my father was, and without knowing his whereabouts, all I could do was hope they wouldn’t find out. I hoped to see my father again soon, but I also felt like I couldn’t face him right now. Because if I did…would he be disappointed in me because I wasn’t putting humanity before myself this time? Or would he understand, just like he’d understood my decision to turn?
“Where did you go?” Waylon asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I blinked several times and refocused on him.
“I was just thinking about my father,” I admitted.
A muscle flexed along Waylon’s jaw as his eyes searched my face. His gaze grew distant for a moment, and I knew that while I was thinking about one human—my father—he was thinking about the entire human population of the Empire.
“When do you think we can go back?” he asked low, his eyes returning to me.
His tone told me he wanted to press for answers but was choosing not to. He needed me, and he didn’t want to push me.
“I’ve been making progress with my magic, but it’s only been three nights.” I forced the words out, even though I hated them.
It had been three nights of Henry being tortured and starved. From Isabelle, I knew he’d been injured during the altercation in the study before he’d been taken. The clan leaders would withhold blood from him so he wouldn’t heal. Without blood, he would remain weak and wouldn’t be able to put up a fight and escape. My magic bubbled up in my veins at the thought.
“I know how determined you are, Sophie. Once you set your mind to something, there is no stopping you,” Waylon said, and while the words were meant to be encouraging, they set me on edge. It was as if by saying them, he had picked up a large stone and sat it on my shoulders, adding to the weight that was already pressing down on me.
“I’m doing everything I can,” I bit out. “You know I want to leave as soon as possible, but Celeste…she’s holding me back.”
“Why would she do that?” he asked, his brows pinching in confusion.
“She wants me to get to know my magic and not force it. She’s underestimating me.”
