Page 5 of Silent Oaths
Maxwellremains silent for a moment before finally nodding. “Shehas potential.”
3
THEODORE
Two weeks later
Myphone vibrates, andIpick up without checking the callerI.D.
“How’sMother?”Iask.
Adeep voice echoes through the speaker. “AttheInn, fast asleep,”Julianreplies.
“Thedrugs worked then,”Iconfirm.Wemixed a hefty dose ofBenzosinto her wine at dinner tonight.
“She’llbe out ‘til morning.”
Normally, our adoptive mother stays on the estate for these parties, but with what we have planned, we need to keep her out of the way.
“Iseverything set at the house?”Julianadds.
UnliketheHalloweenparty, tonight is game night—an exclusive, invite-only gathering with one purpose: to play a game.Butthis isn’t a casual evening of good food, drinks, and laughter between friends.No, it’s dark, twisted, and deadly.Anight fueled by hate, destruction, and the thirst for blood.
LatibulumNoctis.
Beforebeing thrust into the darkness of our world, we were groomed for it, but nothing could have prepared us for what truly laid ahead.
Ididn’t know what it meant until my eighteenth birthday.Thatnight, my father led me into the cold, stone room beneath the estate.Ihad thought it would be a test of loyalty, maybe some symbolic gesture to welcome me into adulthood.
Iwas wrong.
Awoman was already there when we entered, blindfolded and trembling.Herhands were tied, her breathing erratic.Iremember how her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, the thin line of blood trickling from her lip where she must’ve bitten down.Shewasn’t screaming, just quietly pleading under her breath, as if she thought someone might listen.
“Whatis this?”Iasked, my voice shaking asIstepped back. “Whyis she here?”
Fatherdidn’t answer right away.Instead, he handed me a blade.Itwas long and ceremonial, its hilt engraved with the symbols ofVanguard.
“Thisis your passage into adulthood.”
Istared at him, horrified. “Youwant me to?—”
“It’sfor the family,” he said, firmer this time. “Thisis how you prove yourself.Thisis how you earn your place.”
Ilooked at the woman again, my chest tightening.Shewas crying, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.Ikept waiting for him to tell me it was a test, that none of it was real, but he didn’t.Hejust stood there, watching, waiting, his presence a suffocating shadow pressing down on me.
“Why?”Iasked, my voice breaking. “WhydoIhave to do this?”
“Becauseit is the way ofVanguard,” he said simply, his tone so indifferent, it made my stomach churn. “You’reaWhitmore.Youcarry this legacy, and this is how we survive.Thisis howyousurvive.”
Idon’t know how longIstood there, the knife trembling in my hand.Longenough for her to start whispering prayersIdidn’t understand, long enough for my father to grow impatient.Finally, he leaned in close, his voice a sharp whisper in my ear.
“Doit,” he hissed. “Oryou’re nothing.Noone.Youdon’t walk away from this family.Youdon’t walk away fromme.”
Idid it.
Istill see her face in my dreams sometimes—the wide, panicked expression behind the blindfold asIstepped closer, the way her body jerked as the blade found its mark.Istill hear her final breath, the sickening silence that followed.Itwasn’t quick, and it wasn’t clean.Itwas messy, brutal, and wrong.
Thatnight,Ibecame part ofVanguard.Ibecame my father’s pawn.ButI’venever killed another woman, not after her.
