Page 42 of Sophie's Ruin
You needn’t be afraid,it whispered in my head.They should be afraid ofyou.
Squaring my shoulders, I turned to Camilla and lifted my chin.
“I’ve come to take back what’s mine,” I declared, my voice ringing out in the cavern.
“Is that so?” she hissed, crouching and unsheathing her claws.
The other clan leaders did the same. They all looked vicious, but I had something other than fangs and claws to fight with this time—something more powerful and deadly.
Thrusting my right arm out, I unleashed my magic, and it cracked like a whip on the hard ground, rolling toward Camilla. Before it could reach her, she darted out of the way just as Moreau and Beatrice scattered to the opposite sides of the room. In the blink of an eye, Camilla appeared closer to me on my left, and I thrust my left arm out, releasing the shadows toward her. Once again she dodged my magic, this time reappearing right in front of me. Before I could react, her arm shot out, and her clawed hand closed around my throat, cutting off air.
“Where is the amulet?” Camilla growled as she tore at the collar of my tunic with her other hand, her claws flaying my skin. When all she found was my locket, she ripped it off my neck and tossed it aside. “Where is it?!” she snarled, inches away from my face.
Suddenly, her glacial eyes widened, pain mixed with rage mottling her features. With a roar, she let go of my throat and spun around. The torture instruments I’d seen on the table earlier were now protruding from her back, and Henry stood in front of her, breathing shallowly. He didn’t stay standing for long before Moreau tackled him, driving him to the ground and burying him under his weight. I moved to get Moreau off Henry at the same time Beatrice rushed to Camilla. While she was yanking the torture blades out of her back, I jumped on Moreau’s back, my claws drawn, and my fangs bared. I reached around to slash his throat, but he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and threw me over his head. Bones cracked, and teeth rattled as I collided with the rock wall before crumpling down to the ground.
Henry’s roar of fury filled the cave as he bucked under Moreau, trying to throw him off to come to my aid.
Get up,I ordered myself, scrambling to my hands and knees.
My vision swam for a second until it became razor sharp and focused on Henry. Moreau was pressing his knee into his chest to keep him down, and the sight fueled my rage, giving me the push I’d needed. With a snarl, I jumped to my feet and stepped toward them. The sound of wood splintering stopped me in my tracks, and I spun around to see Camilla had broken the table that had housed the torture instruments.
“Where is the amulet?” she demanded, strolling over to where Moreau was holding Henry down. I tracked her every movement, my gaze zeroed in on the thin piece of wood in her hand. “Tell me, or I swear to gods I will drive this stake into his heart.” Camilla jerked her chin toward Henry.
A shuddering breath left me as my gaze darted to him buried several inches into the ground under Moreau. The outer edges of my vision dimmed until all I could see was him—my lover, my friend, my savior. It was my turn to save him now.
Don’t do it,his eyes pleaded as our gazes locked.Don’t give them the Tear.
The amulet pulsed in my right pants pocket, burning right through the fabric and scorching my skin. A cursed object, indeed. All this pain and suffering was because of it. My hand twitched by my right side, but I curled it into a fist. The pain and suffering wouldn’t be over even if I gave up the Tear. It wouldn’t be over until the clans were no more.
At once, I knew exactly what I needed to do, and it didn’t scare me anymore. Not like it had in the past. Closing my eyes, I retreated inside my mind, where I stood before a vast obsidian door with a key in my hand. All was quiet around me and the air was still, but I knew that the silence was deceiving. Great power churned behind the door, waiting to be unleashed and set free. It begged me to let it out, so, after a heartbeat, I did. I lifted the key to the door and unlocked it, releasing the darkness within. Whenit spilled like a tidal wave, rushing out after being kept at bay, I let it take over. I welcomed the shadows as they wrapped around me, enveloping me until I became one with them—a whisper of swirling darkness and smoke.
I glimmered, disappearing into the void that strangely felt like home now, only to reappear a moment later in front of Camilla. Her eyes widened in shock, but she didn’t have time to react as my shadows swept her up. Following my will, my magic threw her against the wall with such force that the sound of her bones shattering tore through the cave. I didn’t stop there. Darting toward her with supernatural speed, I drove the stake she’d threatened Henry with through her heart before she had the chance to slide to the ground. Her mouth opened wide, but no sound came out as she began decaying, her flesh drying out on her broken bones. I stared into her dead eyes, unflinching, until nothing was left of her but dust.
When she was gone, I spun around, still holding the stake in my hand. Moreau cursed as he jumped off Henry and darted toward the exit leading to Stern’s study. Disappearing into the void again, I reappeared in front of him, blocking his escape. My claws gleamed in the candlelight as I slashed them across Moreau’s midsection. He roared in pain, but the sound quickly turned garbled as I tore out his throat with my teeth. I spat out the chunk of his flesh and drove the stake through his heart, reveling in his death as I had in Camilla’s. After Moreau had shriveled up and disintegrated to nothing, I faced Beatrice and found her shaking before me. Slowly, she backed away from me, putting distance between us until her back hit the wall, and she had nowhere else to go. Glimmering again, I appeared right in front of her a second before I painted the wall behind her red with her blood. Her death was just as swift but no less gruesome than Camilla’s and Moreau’s.
As I stood in the middle of the cave with my enemies’ blood dripping from my chin and claws, the darkness inside me rejoiced, and I let out a vicious growl, whirling around on the remaining three clan leaders. Their already pale faces turned white as they stared back at me. Lena moved first, but instead of coming at me as I’d expected, she spun around and disappeared into the dark tunnels behind her. Emeric and Yvonne exchanged a terrified look before they also turned around and fled. With a snarl, I stepped back with my right foot, preparing to go after them, but halted when I heard Henry groan in pain. My gaze shot to him, to where he was still embedded in the ground, his heartbeat sluggish and stuttering.
He needed me, but I felt torn. The darkness inside urged me to go after the clan leaders. Bloodthirsty and driven by revenge, it pulled me toward the tunnels. But another side of me, the human side, urged me to tend to Henry. I’d come here for him; revenge could wait. Gritting my teeth, I reined in the darkness and sheathed my claws. With one last wistful look toward the tunnels, I turned away from them and approached where Henry lay. As gently as I could, I gathered him in my arms and glimmered us out of Stern’s lair, acutely aware that I would never truly leave this place. It would stay with me forever, carved into a part of my mind like my own personal cave. A cave I would visit sometimes to cry about what had been done to Henry or to revel in what I’d done to those who’d caused him pain.
22
Itook us to the Duval Estate, straight to the cellar where I hoped crates with blood awaited us. A breath of relief whooshed out of me when I saw my hope hadn’t been misplaced—the clans hadn’t raided the cellar and taken all the blood. After carefully laying Henry on the stone floor in the middle of the dimly lit room, I dragged one of the crates closer and lowered to the floor next to him, folding my legs under me to prop his head on my knees. The heavy lid creaked in the quiet space as I opened the chest and retrieved a blood bag before tearing it open with my teeth and pouring its contents into Henry’s mouth. He was nearly unconscious as his throat worked on a swallow, but then his hand shot up, closing around the bag. He ripped it out of my hand and began drinking greedily, gulping down the deep-red liquid.
Exhaustion washed over me with the realization that he was going to be okay. I wanted to sag all the way down to the floor with relief, but willed myself to stay upright as I reached back into the chest and pulled out a bag for myself. When I sank my fangs into it, blood poured into my mouth, rich and sweet, and I moaned at the exquisite taste. My veins lit up with liquid fire asthe blood began coursing through me, traveling to each part of my body, healing cracked bones and torn tissue.
Henry drained his bag first, throwing it to the side with a snarl. When he did, I gave him another bag and also retrieved one for myself. We fed for what felt like hours until eventually, Henry rolled to the side and vomited some of the blood. He’d taken too much too fast after not feeding for days.
“I think you’ve had enough for now,” I said gently, brushing his matted hair from his damp forehead. He didn’t protest as he lay on my lap, trembling slightly. My gaze roamed over his body as I assessed the damage. Feeding had kick-started the healing process, but it was difficult to judge how well it was going because he was covered in blood. “We should go upstairs and clean you up. Can you walk?” I asked, my tone urgent. I couldn’t wait another second to wash away the horrors of the past few nights from his skin.
Henry nodded, planting his left hand on the floor. He pushed up to a seating position first, before slowly rising to his feet. I stood up as well, wrapping my arm around his waist for support. When I did, he winced in pain, which let me know the healing process had only just begun. Slowly, we made our way out of the cellar and climbed the narrow stone steps to the foyer.
“Wait,” I stopped Henry with a hand on his chest as I strained my ears, listening for any sign we might not be alone on the estate.
I wasn’t worried about the clans coming for us—I could take care of them, but I hoped they would stay away for a while. I also hoped that Isabelle and the others had not come for me. I wanted to be left alone with Henry. I’d just gotten him back, and we deserved some time together. Silence stretched, as my ears picked up on the creaks of the empty house and the drumming of the rain outside.
A sigh of relief left me when I’d made sure we were alone, and I nodded at Henry before steering him in the direction of the grand staircase.
He was silent on the way to his bedroom on the second floor, but his hold on me was strong, as if he feared that if he’d let go, I would slip out of his arms and disappear. My grip was also tight on him because I needed to feel he was real and that this wasn’t some twisted, delusional dream. When we reached his bedroom, I pushed open the door and we walked in, heading to the bathing chamber. Bright light flooded the space, glancing off the marble shower and the porcelain soaking tub when I flipped on the switch.
