Chapter 4

After Celeste moved in,my range of movement shrank to the kitchen,the storeroom,and my own small room near the outer wall.

No one noticed me.

I stood at the kitchen window watching the courtyard—all the bustle of preparation for tomorrow's blood-oath ceremony—and felt suddenly as if none of it were quite real.

This ceremony had nothing to do with me.

This castle would soon have nothing to do with me.

That afternoon I went back to my room and began to pack.

There wasn't much to pack.Six years,and the personal belongings in that room were pitifully few.A few sets of clothes.A folding knife.Several spare blackwood stakes.A tube of antiseptic cream Richard had given me.

I went out,wanting to walk through the place where I'd spent six years,one last time.

By the old oak tree near the outer wall there was a stone bench,its legs grown over with moss.In winter,frost would settle thin in the hollows.

That first winter,six years ago—I'd been coming back from a mission and taken a wound and couldn't walk any further.I'd collapsed onto that bench.

That was where I first met Darian.

He'd been passing in his greatcoat,looking down at me from above.Then he crouched,and brushed the snow from my face with his hand.

"Poor girl."He'd draped his coat over me,then sat down beside me and lit a cigarette.

I stood by the bench for a while,then turned and walked back.

It was deep into the night when I returned to my small room.I sat on the windowsill to breathe the cool air.

"Why are you sitting on the windowsill?You'll fall."

Only one person in the entire castle would push open my door in the dead of night without knocking.

Darian's voice sounded bone-tired.

He leaned in the doorway.His hair was washed but not dried,a few strands falling across his forehead.This version of Darian was rare.Or rather—it only ever appeared in front of me.

Every time I used to see him like this,my chest would go soft as water.

Not anymore.

"Tomorrow's the ceremony,"he said,coming inside and settling in the chair across from me."A month of preparations,and it's finally almost over."

He kept talking."After the pact is sealed,it'll be better for you too.Fewer assignments.You won't have to push yourself so hard anymore…"

Push so hard.

Was I imagining it?I thought I saw something like tenderness in his eyes.

I must be losing my mind.

The irony was,I was no longer capable of being swayed by his gentleness.

"These past years have been hard on you."His gaze softened a fraction."I'll arrange a new place for you afterward.She won't bother you there."

He had even drawn up a compensation plan.

A new place to live.Farther away.Quieter.

"You're the person I trust most,Elaina."He looked at me steadily."That won't change."

The person he trusted most.

Not the person he loved most.

Not the person who mattered most.

He probably believed with complete sincerity that he was being good to me.In his world,arranging a new place to live for a blood hunter,reducing her assignments,saying you've worked hard—that was the greatest generosity he could offer.He didn't see anything wrong with it.He thought it was enough.

He thought I would always be here.

"I understand,Darian."

I gave him a mild smile.My last expression for him.I wanted it to be compliant.One final performance of the Elaina he knew—obedient,silent,always waiting in the shadows for him.

His brow eased.The corner of his mouth curved.

He reached out and ruffled my hair.

"Good night."

It was the first time in six years he had said good night to me.

Good night,Darian.

This was my last night in Hawthorn Castle.