“You must be joking,” Titus drawled with disbelief.

My heart pounded in my chest. I checked my mental shields—I couldn’t let Raphael find out my plans before I left Damerel. If he found out I’d plotted against him… memories of the Monastery floated in my mind, the bodies ripped apart by Raphael’s wrathful might.

Titus was eating into my precious time to leave. If this took too long, it would be too late. “I won’t tell anyone about you.” The words left me in a rush. “I just can’t be the one to do it. I can’t aid you in this. I know we’ve been taught they’re monsters. But they can be better. Raphael could show them how to be better. Killing him would just have someone worse take his place.”

Titus advanced slowly. The wood of the dresser dug into my back. “Worse?” he echoed. “There’s no one worse, you stupid girl. He’s the strongest of them. If you’d played your role properly, we could have triumphed, cutting the head off the snake. But no. You’ve told yourself they’re not monsters.” He smirked, all thin lips and hollow cheeks. “It wasn’t enough to see them kill your mother? You need more proof?”

Blood and blood… I swallowed and forced the memory aside. For once, I wouldn’t let it trap me. “Just because one vampire did that doesn’t mean they all are evil.” Doesn’t it?

Titus actually laughed, throwing his head back. I took the chance to step to the side slightly, trying to shift away from where I was cornered. But his head snapped back, not missing the movement.

“I can’t believe this. They’ve attacked you. Or do you forget those who try to kill you so quickly?”

I flinched at the reminder. “How do you know about that?”

Titus came closer, and I had nowhere to go. “Who do you think told the librarian what you were doing?”

The missing books. I clenched my jaw as realization snapped through me. He’d set me up, playing on their fear of the necromancer. He must have overheard me at some point talking with Amalthea, perhaps some morning over breakfast when we’d thought we were alone.

“And that still wasn’t enough for you! You refused me. So I showed you what would happen to humans when vampires rule, and I thought, finally. The stupid girl will see. But now you double-cross me.”

My head swam. What would happen… “You? You killed the donor?” I stammered.

“Of course. I needed to show you what vampires are capable of, since you seem to have forgotten what they did to your mother.”

“But… you were the one who killed her.”

He waved the accusation away. “She sealed her fate the moment she became their blood whore.”

Fury slammed into me. I couldn’t run, and I didn’t want to run.

“You’re evil,” I snarled. “Worse than them. At least when they kill it’s an accident. But you chose to take her life.”

“She was a tool, Samara. Just like you. If you’d done your duty, then it would have been a noble sacrifice on her part. Unfortunately, you proved to be useless.” Titus’s expression went flat. “And I have no need for useless tools.”

He surged for me, but I was ready. When I’d realized I couldn’t get away, I set another plan in place. I drew the dagger from the harness I’d designed to sit around my thigh. It might be enchanted for vampires, but the blade was sharp enough to draw blood from any creature.

Titus startled slightly, as if not expecting a fight. Then he snorted. “That twig again?”

“I’m stronger than I was before.” I lunged forward and swiped at his side, drawing blood.

He knocked me away, and I stumbled into the back of the chair. His face contorted with hideous rage as he drew his own blade. Simple steel, but longer than mine. “You bitch!”

Bitch, traitor, useless tool… perhaps his true talent was finding ways to insult me.

We danced around each other. I had grown stronger. My body had put on muscle. The dagger was no longer an extra weight in my hand, but rather an extension of my arm. Unfortunately, the dress made me slow, my footwork sloppy.

We clashed again and again, neither of us managing to land a blow. I caught his blade against mine and threw him back hard enough to stumble. I can do this.

“You know your mistake, Samara?” Titus sneered as he recovered from the blow.

I didn’t waste my breath answering.

“You can’t win against magic.”

With a flick of his fingers, he cast a spell. I froze as every part of my body seized. The dagger slipped from my fingers, landing harmlessly against the carpeted floor. Sweat dripped down my back as I tried to force my legs to move. But no matter how I tried, nothing worked.

“I don’t normally reveal my magic,” he admitted. “Poor form for a spymaster to give up his secrets. But since you’re dying, it hardly matters.”

“Poi… son…” My tongue was too large in my mouth, the word barely scraping through my teeth.

He strolled over to where I stood, helpless, twirling his blade in his hand. “Yes, Samara. That card was made with my own magic.”

He plunged his blade into my chest.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Forty-Eight

White pain exploded inside me, blocking out my vision.

A muffled sound as I fell, my ears ringing too loudly to process what was happening.

Dying. I’m dying.

Blood pooled on top of me, the warm liquid soaking my dress. Inside, an inescapable cold bloomed.

There was nothing but the pain. The white turned to black as my eyes shut, unable to focus.

“No!” A roar. Terrifying, vicious, animalistic. It cut through the haze of pain.

I wanted to turn my head and see the source, but any movement was impossible. Because of the poison, or because I was already dead, my spirit slowly detaching from my body…

Numbness coated my senses. Everything was distant.

There was a thunderous crash and a shrill scream.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel my limbs, my torso. My eyelids flickered, lights flashing in my periphery.

“Don’t do this!” he snarled. “Don’t you dare leave me like this.”

The imperious tone… if I could have moved my lips, they might have twitched. As if this had been my choice. Or maybe it was. Somewhere along the way, I’d made a decision and put it all in motion.

“Samara.” My name was a plea. I’d gone so many years without hearing my name, and yet he used it over and over. I was grateful for that. The fact the last time I’d hear it wouldn’t be from the hate-fueled spymaster.

“I’m… sor… ry…” It took incalculable effort to offer that.

“No, Samara. I’m sorry, because I fear you’ll never forgive me for this.”

What was he saying?

I thought I could feel nothing anymore, but then…

Pain.

My neck ached sharply, more acute than I should have felt in my state.

Then, at my lips, something hot. Wet.

No. He didn’t.

He’d promised. The one thing I’d ever asked him to vow.

“Don’t… do… this…” I gasped through coated lips.

If he responded, I couldn’t hear it.

And then it all disappeared.

OceanofPDF.com

Epilogue

I woke, staring at the ceiling.

Only it wasn’t the ornate, painted ceiling of my bedroom. Nor was it the bedframe I’d woken to for the past several months.

It was dark, unyielding stone.

I’m in Greymere.

That was my first thought before the events of the evening slammed back to me. Was this the ninth hell, for my treachery? I pushed onto my elbows and looked around. I was surrounded on almost all four sides by solid stone, the same dark granite above and below. It wasn’t polished and smooth, but rather a small room carved directly from the mountain.

Damerel.

There was no light source. It was completely dark, yet I could see perfectly.