by Rachel Jonas
“There’s no excuse for what I’ve done today,” Julian sighed.
“Please,” Roman grumbled when he reached his own conclusion, stepping away from his post. “You’re not the first royal to succumb to the urge to feed straight from a host, and you certainly won’t be the last. And it’s not unheard of to get … carried away,” he added, likely revisiting the bloody scene when Julian rushed in with Corina.
Julian didn’t speak right away, and in the time it took him to gather his thoughts, my gaze shifted to Silas. It didn’t surprise me to find him already staring, guilt oozing from his pores.
What we’d done, it was meant to be an innocent gesture. We only hoped to enhance Julian’s time at the gala. However, with the strange turn of events, it had twisted into so much more and the hand we played in it was beginning to wear on Silas. The look on his face told me as much.
Perhaps, it was beginning to get to me as well.
“You don’t understand,” Julian stated. “I took things too far.”
“Is she dead?” Roman asked. His tone was unmistakably flat, unfeeling.
Julian’s gaze lifted to meet his, and the pieces were beginning to fall into place.
“No,” Julian clarified. “She’s … alive and well, actually.”
“Then what happened?” Silas asked. He’d made it no secret that he, himself, was intrigued by the girl, so his tone didn’t surprise me.
“Dr. Driskel was right,” Julian began. “Corina had one of her episodes today. Apparently, she can sense them before they strike. First chance she got, she took off,” he admitted.
His face fell, and there was no mistaking the hint of embarrassment that came with it.
“Elle and I went after her, but … I hesitated,” he added. “In those few seconds that I allowed myself to care who’d see me chasing after her, and who’d send word to my father that she’d gotten away, she managed to put quite a bit of distance between us. By the time I found her in an alley, she was on the ground, covered in blood,” he explained, using his hands to gesture when his emotions started running high again.
I watched him, the wild stare in his eyes. He hadn’t been able to hide his allure toward her from the beginning, and I still found it peculiar that, when gifted the ability of true sight, he chose her.
A human girl.
That wild inkling behind his eyes suddenly turned into something else.
“If I hadn’t done something, she would have died,” he explained.
“And maybe that’s exactly what should have happened,” Roman interjected, “because if you did what I think you did …”
Anger brewed within him as he, too, began to understand.
Taking those words to heart, shame washed over Julian. “I don’t disagree with you,” he replied quietly. “It just … it wasn’t so black and white.”
A pristine crystal vase—chosen with care by the palace decorator—soared across the room when Roman heaved it.
“Are you insane?” he roared, his eyes narrowing into slits while he moved closer to Julian.
It was instinct for me to move between them despite not believing things would actually get physical. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. Better to prevent either from doing something they couldn’t take back.
“You’re willing to just … throw everything away for some girl?” Was the next question Roman asked. “Your title? Your reputation? Your life?”
“Okay, ease up,” I urged, placing both hands on Roman’s shoulders when he stepped closer. The warning went ignored as he continued berating Julian.
“The no-turn law has been in place since before any of us were ever thought of,” he panted. “But you deemed it wise to go against it to save … what … a liar? An imposter? Because that’s exactly what she is,” he asserted. “We don’t know where she came from, or what her objective was the night of the gala. And yet, you’ve just traded her life for yours.” A slow, sarcastic clap echoed through the room as Roman applauded Julian’s actions. “Well done, friend.”
“All right. That’s enough.” This time, he let me push him back, his heavy frame dropping down into a nearby chair.
“No, let him be,” Julian insisted. “He’s right. Everything he stated—about me, about her—is the absolute truth.” He paused and lowered his gaze. “And I don’t have an excuse for any of it.”
Even without turning to Silas, I felt his stare burning a hole through me, silently acknowledging that we were, technically, to blame for all this. An invisible entity crept through the room and I identified it immediately—the sensation of tensions mounting.
“I’m considering the possibility of turning myself in. Maybe the magistrates will have mercy on me if I admit to my transgression as opposed to being found out,” Julian reasoned. “I’ll take a month, give or take, to decide how to proceed, and then—”
“It was me.”
Julian and Roman’s gazes shifted to Silas when he spoke. Mine lowered to the floor.
Silas stepped forward with both hands in his pockets. The confident stance he took made it clear he’d thought this through, and was certain this was the right thing to do.
Julian never did things that rocked the boat. The impetus behind his every move was to earn and keep his father’s respect.
Above all else.
It was this same desire that had driven him to accept his calling to rule. Meanwhile, those of us who knew him best saw how the decision had made him die a little inside—hence the reason we showed up to help him celebrate, to keep him in good spirits a few nights ago.
He was hardwired not to follow his own will, but his father’s. I wasn’t wrong to recognize the need for a change, but it wasn’t lost on me how horribly awry things had gone.
“It’s gotten way out of hand, Julian, but … you have to know I only meant to help,” Silas added. “My intent when I agreed to be a part of this was never to hurt you. I simply wanted to see you find happiness, by enabling you to get out of your own way and follow your heart. I had no way of knowing it would … lead you straight to Corina.”
A blank stare washed over Julian’s face, and Silas stood in silence, awaiting a response.
“What are you saying? What did you do?” Julian stood, seeming out of sorts, but there was no missing the hard, angry stare he directed at our brother from the North.
I swallowed hard, listening.
“What happened at the gala wasn’t random,” Silas began. “I bestowed you with true sight, limiting its power to only manifest in your romantic life. I only wanted you to release your inhibitions for a bit. You have to know that I didn’t foresee any of this happening,” he confessed apologetically.
However, as Julian lowered into his seat again, it was abundantly clear Silas’ act of contrition wasn’t enough.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Julian scoffed, his wild gaze searching Silas’ expression for some sort of explanation. “I took away Corina’s choice today. Now, maybe that only means something to me because you messed with my head, but … she didn’t want this. I didn’t want this,” he added, jabbing a finger at his own chest. “Within the span of sixty days, she’ll undergo irreversible changes—physical, emotional—and promptly after that, if I don’t turn myself in first, I’ll be hauled off to the magistrate and sentenced.”
Silas lowered his head.
“We could hide her, maybe,” Roman interjected gravely.
It wasn’t lost on me that, for once, his suggestion hadn’t involved Corina meeting an untimely end. Also, the red-hot anger he’d just aimed toward Julian seemed to subside. Perhaps the reason had been his respect for Silas’ gift. A respect we all shared. His ability, although more subtle and understated than the rest of ours, was incredibly powerful. The feelings it revealed were true, meaning Julian’s affection toward the human, who had changed all of our lives in such a short span of time, were real, powerful, and unavoidable.
“It’ll never work,” Julian rebutted. “With the att
ention we managed to attract, news outlets will be chasing interviews and exclusive stories for years to come. Starting with the one Jenna arranged tomorrow.”
I felt my expression shift to a scowl as I spoke. “Come again?”
Julian nodded. “There’s a press conference and Corina and I are both expected to be there. I thought it best to address the people myself as opposed to allowing rumors to continue shaping the public’s views on what took place at the gala.”
“Cancel it,” I blurted. “You’ve got the authority to bide your time. Tell Jenna to push it back indefinitely, and for Pete’s sake, let the public think what they want! You owe them nothing.”
Julian was already shaking his head in disagreement before I finished speaking. “The longer I let this fester, the worse it will get. I decided to face it head-on and I’m sticking to that,” he concluded.
Silas breathed deeply. “This is all on me,” he asserted. “The whole thing is just one big disaster, and there’s no one else to blame. So, first thing in the morning, I’ll be the one turning myself in. Not you, Julian. I can’t let—”
“What?” My head lifted quickly as things continued to spiral out of control. “You’re insane! No one’s turning themselves in.”
“It’s only fair,” Silas reasoned. “I can’t watch one of my brothers suffer because of my actions. It’s on me. I have to make it right.”
Leave it to him to be so noble. Not that I would have let Julian take the fall on his own, but Silas was almost zealous at the idea of falling on his own sword.
Bloody hell …
I suppose there was nothing else to do but make my part in all this known.
“He didn’t act alone,” I admitted with a sigh. “And, I suppose if you want to get technical … this was my idea. So, if anyone goes to the magistrate, it should be me.”
Without a selfless bone within me, it felt like I’d just had an out-of-body experience as I copped to the consequences of what I’d done. However, when it came to these three, I had a bit of a soft spot.
Julian stared at me, as bewilderment filled his gaze but said nothing.
Not that I expected him to, considering all we’d dropped on him today.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this,” I blurted next, meaning every word. “I swear on my honor that I’ll make this right.”
Sure, it was a grandiose promise to make, but I’d do everything in my power to make good on it.
Because if I failed, the blood of my friend, my brother … would forever be on my hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Corina
Elle ran a comb through my hair and, this time, I let her.
I’d tossed and turned the entire night, having one nightmare behind the other. The result of which left me feeling like I’d done more running than sleeping. The dreams were vague, but there was a heavy sense of terror breathing down my neck. Even now, hours later, I still felt it, thick and foreboding in this room Julian had called mine.
I awoke feeling different, though. The hostility toward my hosts had subsided and I knew why. Seeing Julian when I came out of the haze yesterday forced me to consider him in a new, gentler light. He was so attentive, so concerned. It made me wonder if the interest he’d shown at the gala wasn’t contingent on who or what I was. It made me wonder if discovering I was human hadn’t canceled out those feelings like I assumed.
Maybe it was less illusion and fantasy and more … real.
I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but I did know it made me reconsider my own feelings, question whether there was substance to the chemistry I had dismissed.
It still stood that I would have chosen death over being turned had I been given the choice. However, I understood the depth of the hard decision Julian made to save me. It was an act of selflessness, sacrifice.
And while I couldn’t figure out why he thought enough of me to risk it, I appreciated him.
My gaze met Elle’s in the mirror, as she reached for a hairpin to secure the neat bun she styled at the nape of my neck, slightly off to one side. I knew she wasn’t real, and she was no Liv, but I found comfort having her here with me this morning. It definitely beat being alone.
As she made me over, the conversation had revolved around one topic only—me being turned. Because it was so rarely heard of for a human to be bitten for any reason, even for an Ianite to feed, the process was a mystery to me. Fortunately, Elle had the answers I sought.
She confirmed what Julian already shared, that I’d only be me—the real me—for approximately sixty more days. Until then, I would still be perceived as human to any Ianite I crossed paths with, still susceptible to death if I weren’t careful. Yes, Julian’s venom coursed through my veins, but the extent of its power so far was that the wounds on my wrist, throat, and the back of my head had healed. Otherwise, his poison would go undetected, provided another vampire didn’t sink his teeth into me within the next day or so, before the venom dissipated. If that happened, he or she would be dead within minutes. Of course, I too would be dead by this point, but it was still interesting to know. Another peculiar Ianite fact I wouldn’t have otherwise discovered.
Glancing down as I sat, being pampered at the vanity, I noted that my hands were visibly shaking now. With so little time to wrap my head around stepping out into the public eye, I felt ill-prepared. I was assured I wouldn’t be expected to speak, but I just wasn’t ready. With my team on high-alert, I was positive word of my capture had spread. That meant our entire network had likely scoured every news outlet possible for updates after the fiasco at the gala. While I was certain that, up until now, they’d known this had all been an undercover mission gone wrong, I couldn’t guess what they’d assume when news hit that I’d been taken as a Doll.
It was no small gift that I could hold off telling the team I’d been turned. My plan was to ease them into that knowledge delicately, face-to-face, on my own terms. Until that time came, I’d hold onto my secret for dear life, until I couldn’t anymore.
Until I was forced to give it up and confess.
Never in a million years would I have imagined this to be my fate. And yet, here I was—being fussed over by a bot in a suite in our Capitol’s palace.
“Prince Julian thought it’d be a nice touch if your outfit coordinated with his today,” Elle informed, cutting into my thoughts. “Perhaps it will make the two of you appear more united,” she added as I glanced down at the soft, white robe I hadn’t taken off since my bath.
“He wants us to … dress alike?” I asked, needing clarity despite the statement being pretty straightforward.
“Yes,” Elle beamed. “He’s chosen a gray suit with a white shirt and blue tie. So, I took the liberty of selecting sleek, gray slacks for you with a sleeveless, white blouse and blue accessories.”
I breathed deeply, but didn’t say a word.
Elle, being perceptive and all, didn’t miss a thing.
“Will that not suit you?” She seemed genuinely concerned I didn’t approve.
I could have told her I felt wildly uncomfortable being made such a fuss over when I knew for a fact my team was running out of food, when I was certain there would be another transport mission coming up soon. I could have told her how being dressed like some inanimate object made me feel like even more of a prisoner than I already did.
But … I didn’t.
Because, somehow, this humanoid robot convinced me she had feelings, and I couldn’t bring myself to hurt them. She had no hand in anything that transpired and had been nothing but kind.
And kindness was something I so rarely came across these days.
“No,” I replied. “The outfit sounds fine.”
She smiled and I didn’t miss the sense of relief emitting from her.
“Good. As soon as we finish taming all this hair of yours, I’ll help you dress.”
Forcing a smile of my own then, I settled on my reflection. I looked … refined. Like the luxuries of this world had already c
onsumed me when, truth be told, I couldn’t have cared less about any of it. I didn’t need the clothes, the makeup, or the posh accommodations.
All I needed, all I wanted, was my family.
A pang of sadness hit me square in the gut, as did a ferocious growl. I placed my hand there as it rumbled, aware that the sound had also gotten the attention of my self-professed stylist. Our gazes locked and I knew she wouldn’t let it go.
“Corina, it’s been two days. You were already malnourished enough when you first arrived, and I’ve been too nervous to run another scan for fear of what the results will show.”
“I’m fine.”
She ignored the rebuttal.
“You’re not well,” Elle pressed again. “You’ve just had an episode and—”
She stopped pleading her case and moved to the dresser where a plate of untouched food rested on a silver tray. I watched as she grabbed a bundle of grapes by the stem and brought them over.
“At least accept this,” she insisted.
On cue, there was another rumble, and I considered it. With today certain to be stressful, it probably wasn’t a bad idea to have something in my stomach.
I accepted them with a soft, “Thank you,” and there was no missing Elle’s broad smile when I caved.
She stood behind me again, finishing my hair as I ate.
“So, you feel okay this morning?” she asked.
That question was more complex than I guessed she realized.
“I’m fine, I think. Other than being a bit tired, I don’t notice anything else.” When I finished speaking, I glanced up toward the mirror, not surprised to find her staring.
“And … emotionally?” she pressed. “I don’t mean to pry,” she quickly added, when my gaze lowered. “I only ask because today is a big day and yesterday was, well, it was pretty significant, too,” she acknowledged. “I guess I’m just making sure you’re not feeling too … overwhelmed,” was the word she chose.
Overwhelmed.