Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
I tear down the stairs, ignoring the aches in my ribs, legs, and the rest of my body as the emotions Nessa feels through the tether intensify. She feels like she’s in danger. Like she might be killed any moment.
I’m breathing hard, moving through the busy courtyard of Confluence when something changes.
I pause mid-step, sensing Nessa’s closeness like the sun finally appearing from behind thick clouds.
I turn and see her. She’s on her knees in the courtyard and students are staring. Her eyes are distant, fixed on the ground. “Lorkan and Milena Grace are back,” she whispers.
Nearby students grin and mutter among themselves, but she says it again.
“They’re back. Lorkan and Milena Grace are alive. And they’re back.”
A ripple of whispers sweeps through the courtyard. Heads turn, bodies shift.
It takes a few moments before my brain processes what I’m seeing.
She’s alive. She’s here. Relief floods through me, so intense I nearly stumble.
I’m running toward Nessa, wanting nothing more than to pull her into my arms where I can protect her. Where I can put my hands on her and make sure she’s real.
I sense her confusion, her fear. And something else—a darkness, a horror that wasn't there before. What happened to her? Where has she been?
Nessa’s voice is faint, but clear enough that there’s no mistaking the words.
"Lorkan Grace is alive." She keeps saying it, and the words finally register.
The name hits me like a physical blow, and I feel my body go cold. Lorkan Grace. Milena Grace. The monsters responsible for siphons. The man responsible for the death of my entire family. The name whispered like a curse by those with the misfortune to know his sins.
The siphons were proof enough of his survival, but the way Nessa says it. The fear and twisted bundle of emotions in her mind when she speaks his name… she doesn’t just know he’s alive because she saw his creatures. She knows because she saw him.
I shove my way through the rest of the crowd, my hands finding Nessa’s shoulders as I take her into my arms. I steady her as she sways on her feet. Up close, I can see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her body trembles with fatigue.
"Where were you?" I demand, fighting to keep my voice level. "I thought—" I cut myself off, eyes scanning her blood-covered form. "Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head, her eyes never leaving mine. "Voss," she whispers. "Voss is Lorkan Grace."
The world stops spinning. Everything freezes.
Voss. The Rector of Confluence Academy. The greatest monster in our history has been here all along.
Rage rips through me, hot and violent.
I let her be alone with him in his office. I ignored my instincts and let her trust him.
The urge to find him, to kill him, is nearly overwhelming. I grip Nessa's shoulders tighter, trying to anchor myself to her rather than the murderous fury burning through my veins.
"He took you," I say, the realization dawning. “Come on. Not here,” I take her hand and lead her from the courtyard and the gathering crowd watching us.
There’s an explosion of whispered gossip and glances our way, but none are foolish enough to try to follow.
I take Nessa carefully and lead her from the courtyard, eyes alert as I scan every shadow for danger. Through our tether, I send her every ounce of reassurance I can muster. I'll protect you. Whatever Lorkan and Milena Grace are planning, they'll have to go through me to get to you.
But beneath these thoughts, a subtle doubt takes root. Nessa was with him. She came back unharmed. What did he tell her? What did he show her?
I know our family history. I know what my ancestors did to the unbound, but it’s part of why I tried so hard to protect Nessa once I found out what she was. To break the cycle. To change things.
But what if he poisoned her against me? Implied I was just like them? Could I even blame her if those words sank deep, shaking her ability to trust me?
We don’t speak as I bring her back to her room and lay her in bed. She’s covered in blood, but none of it seems to be hers. She doesn’t need healing. She needs sleep.