We moved together until I could not move at all, until all I could do was cling to Adrian as he moved for both of us. We stared at each other, our breaths mingling until he closed the space between us and kissed me—deep and bruising and languid. When he pulled away, he whispered, breathless, “Come for me.”
His thrusts grew harder, rougher, and they took me over the edge. Not long after, he followed.
We lay together in silence for a long while before Adrian spoke. “I feared I had truly hurt you,” he said.
He did not need to give any more details. I already knew what he meant—the night I’d asked him to leave my room without explanation.
“No,” I said, and nothing more. I trailed my fingers along his chest, over raised scars that nipped at his sides.
“Lothian tells me you have enjoyed the library,” he said.
“Yes.”
“What have you learned?”
“Things that scare me,” I said.
“Do you mean that you have learned the truth?” he asked.
I spent a few moments tracing his skin and then looked at him, my chin resting on my hands. “Lothian and Zann introduced me to letters and journals from people who had lived during Dragos’s reign. I did not know.”
There was something hopeful in Adrian’s eyes as he stared at me, and he lifted his hand to brush his thumb against my cheek.
“You know now,” he said.
“Ravena does not make it easy to trust magic,” I said and paused. “I saw her in the woods.”
Beneath me, Adrian stiffened. “What did she say?”
“Nonsense.” Even now, I tried to recall her words, but they escaped me. I’d been too focused on planning how I was going to kill her for any of them to stick. “What did you do to her?”
“I only took what she stole from me,” he said.
“And what was that?”
“A future.”
I had more questions and more things to tell Adrian, like how I’d also seen Ravena in the window at Sadovea and in the hall of mirrors, but a knock at the door interrupted us.
“Not now,” Adrian called.
“Your Majesty, it’s urgent,” Daroc said from the other side of the door.
We exchanged a look, and I pushed off him, dragging the blanket up to my chest.
“Enter.”
There was a click as the door opened, and Daroc walked into view. His face remained perfectly stoic as he spoke. “We’ve had another attack,” he said. “At Cel Cera.”
Eighteen
Dread tore my chest in two—I had heard of Cel Cera before. It was the home of Ana’s vassal.
“Adrian,” I said. “Isla was coming back from there.”
Adrian looked to Daroc. “Were there any survivors?”
“Not everyone is accounted for,” he answered, but that was not a promising sign. It might mean they lived but that they were possessed and were now wandering the woods in search of prey. “Sorin is still searching.”
I swallowed hard.
“Send more soldiers,” Adrian said. “But only those who fly. They have a better chance of escaping the mist.”
I looked at him, surprised. “How many can fly?”
He shrugged. “About thirty or so.”
“Are they all falcons?”
“No,” he said.
I now wondered just how many times I’d seen a hawk or bat circling in the sky only for it to be a vampire.
“And if we locate anyone infected?” Daroc asked.
“They must be killed,” Adrian said.
I felt sick, but I knew Adrian was right. Daroc bowed and left.
“Someone must tell Ana,” I said once we were alone.
“I will,” Adrian volunteered.
“Let me go with you.”
Adrian did not protest, and we rose and dressed quickly. I had never been to Ana’s quarters before, but she resided in the upper level of the west tower, and when we knocked on her door, she answered with a smile that dropped instantly.
“No,” she said, shaking her head, already guessing why we’d come.
It was Adrian who caught her as she collapsed.
“Ana,” he said, explaining the attack and smoothing her hair. Finally, he added, “She may yet live.”
And as she sobbed in his arms, she begged. “Do not kill her, Adrian, please.”
*
“You look stunning,” Vesna said, drawing my attention from the mirror as Violeta finished lacing my gown for tonight’s feast, the final night of the Burning Rites. It reminded me of water, twining waves of white and silver that trailed down my body and dragged the floor. The sleeves were long, but the neckline fell off the shoulder, adorned with icy, lace flowers that matched the floral crown atop my head. My hair was pulled to one side, trailing over my shoulder in thick waves. A pair of silvery earrings dangled from my ears, and I stared at them now, thinking of Ana.