Hotbloods 5: Traitors

“I’ll have them in secret and hope nobody finds out,” she said with a shrug. “Anyway, I already have more children than I can count, and I adore every single one of them. If I never have any of my own, I know I’ll have passed on something good to the children who’ve passed through my classroom. That will be enough for me, if even one of them manages to make a difference in this place.”

If she hadn’t been such a genuinely nice person, it would have been impossible not to hate her. As it was, there was no option but to love her. Her heart was in the right place, and she was exactly the kind of woman who could make a difference, one day. Yes, she’d asked me to give up a lot, but who wouldn’t have done the same, in her position?

“See, this is why I need to keep you safe from Aurelius,” I gushed. “I heard what he said to you, and he is never going to get the chance to do any of that.”

Seraphina released me gently. “I knew that was you in the crowd that day, at the convocation,” she gasped. “Believe me, he’s said far worse things. He’s said my tears are his aphrodisiac, and that he never wants me to learn to like it. He’s said he wants to punish me, in every unimaginable way, until my screams bring the guards running.”

I felt a shiver of disgust ripple up my spine. “I promise you’ll never have to worry about him again. He is never going to harm you. Not if I have anything to do with it.”

Seraphina gripped my hands, the tears falling from her near-red eyes. “For as long as I live, I will never forget the sacrifice you have made for me. Never.”





Chapter Thirty-One





“You look so handsome,” I said, a lump gathering in my throat.

“I think I look stupid,” Navan replied, fixing the collar of the dark crimson suit he wore. It was tailored to flatter the muscular shape of his body and hide the outline of his bound wing, with a high collar and glittering golden buttons going down the front.

I stood behind him, lifting a heavy cloak of red fur onto his shoulders, pinning it into place. It was a cloak that Seraphina’s father had sent over, which had been worn to his wedding, and by his father-in-law before him, and so on and so forth. It was supposed to be a symbol of protection, marking the shift of responsibility from the father to the husband. An archaic tradition, much like the cup and the veil that Seraphina had been making, still clinging to its place in modern Vysanthean culture. The cloak certainly smelled ancient, a waft of must filling my nostrils as I pinned it in place. I moved around to the front of him to better grasp the ties that fastened the cloak.

He didn’t take his eyes off me as I worked on the fastenings. He’d chosen to dress for the wedding at Sarrask’s cottage, where he could spend his last single moments with me, instead of at the apartment that Seraphina’s father had rented for the occasion. An invitation had been sent to Navan, but he’d politely declined.

Three days had passed by so quickly, and there was no putting this wedding off any longer. Although we’d tried to act normal around each other, things hadn’t quite been the same between us since I returned from Seraphina’s. We hadn’t spent another night apart, but we’d stopped short of making love each evening, unable to relax with the weight of everything bearing down on us both. He’d kiss me passionately, then draw away, remembering what was on the horizon. I was the same, trying to force my mind to forget what was going to happen, and while I could make my brain pretend everything was peachy, I couldn’t get my body to cooperate. He’d sense my stiff muscles and ask what was wrong, and the romantic moment would vanish in an instant.

Still, every morning since, I’d woken up in his arms, and that gave me hope that we were going to be just fine. I knew we were doing everything for the right reasons, but it hadn’t quite become real in my mind. Now, there was an hour until sunset, and then it would all be over. Weirdly enough, I felt relieved. As soon as the wedding was finished, we could start repairing the cracks that had appeared in our relationship, before they became too big to overcome.

“Stop,” he whispered.

I didn’t dare look up, my hands still fastening the ties in place. “We have to get you dressed,” I said softly, knowing that if I gazed into his eyes, I would crumble.

“Please, Riley.” I felt a hand slip around my waist, while his other hand rested below my chin, urging me to look up into his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I let my gaze drift up to meet his. There were tears in his eyes, and his mouth was set in a grim line, a muscle twitching in his jaw. I didn’t want him to be sad, but his misery was contagious. Already, I’d had to scold Ronad and Sarrask for moping around downstairs, but that appeared to be the mood that had settled over the cottage.

“We need to get you dressed, or you’re going to be late,” I urged, but his kiss stopped me from saying anything more. I gasped against his lips. Desperately, I held his face with both hands, kissing him back with all the anguish that had been building up inside me. I pressed close to him, like I might never see him again, and kissed him like it was the last time.

“I love you, Riley. Please, never forget that,” he said, breaking away.

I smiled, running a hand across his short hair, where Brisha’s patterns had been buzzed away before he came back for me. “I love you, too. I’ll never forget it—I couldn’t if I tried.”

A knock at the door distracted us, and Kaido peered into the room. “The ship has arrived,” he said bluntly. “It is poor form to keep the bride waiting, I hear, so you should probably go. You will want to be the first there.”

I chuckled uneasily, standing on tiptoe to kiss Navan once more. “You heard the man. You’ve got a wedding to get to,” I said, determined not to cry.

“You’ll definitely be there?” Navan sounded worried.

“I promise I’ll be there,” I replied, cupping his face in my hands again. “There’s a wedding present we have to collect, remember?” I winked.

“I guess I’d better go, then,” he said reluctantly, taking my hand as we walked to the door together. His cloak swayed from side to side, making him look like some exotic storybook prince, come to rescue the suffering princess.

Sarrask and Ronad were waiting at the bottom of the stairs, both of them wearing the same mopey expressions I’d scolded them for earlier. They were dressed in smart, high-collared suits, similar to the one Navan was wearing. Ronad’s was a cobalt blue, while Sarrask’s was a gloomy slate gray. Kaido, on the other hand, had selected a surprisingly gaudy number made of magenta silk, with aquamarine embroidery, and seemed pretty pleased with the end result.

“I based the color scheme on one of my Dezaray plums!” he confided in me, as we reached the kitchen. “Do you like it? Sarrask said it hurt his eyes, but I am not certain what he meant by that. Is that a good thing?”

“I think you look very charming, Kaido,” I assured him, flashing a warning look at Sarrask and Ronad, to keep their mouths shut about Kaido’s unexpectedly bold fashion statement.

“Excellent!” Kaido enthused, before disappearing out of the house to where a ship was waiting. We followed him, the pair of us halting at the end of the garden path. The sleek metal sides had been decorated with blood-red vines intertwining around a set of symbols I couldn’t read.

I turned to Navan. “What does it say?”

“Navan and Seraphina, bound forever,” he replied, shuddering.

“Vysanthean romance really does take some getting used to,” I teased sarcastically, gripping his arm, wanting to break the tension.

He took a deep breath and gazed deep into my eyes. “Tell me this doesn’t change anything between us, Riley,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Tell me we’re going to be okay, and that we’re going to get through this. If you can’t promise me that, then I can’t go through with this.”