Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

Twisting my fingers around the sash, I stared ahead, breathing in the air scented with honeysuckle that flourished along the walls of the manor as I thought of other times I’d been asked to use my abilities. Usually it was a visiting baron or another member of the aristo. My intuition usually was able to warn whether the visitor could be trusted or if they were up to something. I could even sense more, if that was what Claude wanted. He liked to know what made the others tick so that he could use that in potential dealings.

“Here,” Grady finally said, reaching into the breast pocket of his tunic, dropping a small coin-sized pouch into my palm. The laughter that usually filled his deep brown eyes was nowhere to be seen, nor were those boyishly charming dimples that had gotten him out of so much trouble when we were younger. “Find out what you need to know and get out.”

I glanced down at the black pouch containing the Long Night. Claude’s targets were never aware that they’d been drugged. The Long Night was odorless and tasteless. “Did you see who has come?”

“No. I only know of the chamber, but I’m assuming it’s a chancellor.” His nostrils flared. “I don’t like this, Lis.”

“I know.” Curling my fingers around the pouch, I slipped it into the pocket of the robe, where the material was thankfully thicker. “But you shouldn’t worry. I’ll have it under control.”

Lips pressed together, he shook his head as we walked a little farther, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. We neared the east wing, which overlooked the courtyards and the sections of the gardens where the roses bloomed. The chambers here were stately, reserved only for those the Baron sought to impress.

I glanced up at Grady. The muscle along his jaw was ticking. “You understand that I don’t have to do this. That I’m choosing to do this.”

Grady’s brows flew up. “Really?”

“Yes. I could’ve said no. Claude wouldn’t have made me do it, and if I don’t want things to progress, I’ll use the Long Night once I find out why this chancellor is here. Hopefully, it’s not because Claude is late on his tithe, because we really don’t need that on top of everything else to worry about,” I said. “Tonight is no different than any other night.”

The muscle continued to pulse at his jaw. “You speak as if this is not a big deal.”

Folding my arms over my chest, I looked away. The thing was, these meetings were complicated, because sometimes it wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes I enjoyed the touching. It wasn’t like those I met under these circumstances were always bad, odious people. Often they were charming and interesting, and I . . . could touch them without the guilt of seeing or sensing what they likely wanted to keep hidden. I could shovel that blame onto Claude, and yeah, I knew how messed up that was. Deep down, I knew I still shared some of that guilt. Either way, I walked away from these encounters unharmed, and there had been only a few times I sensed things I felt like I’d never be able to erase the memory of.

Walking once more, there were just the sounds of his boots and my robe whispering against the stone floor until we came to a set of double doors.

“We’re here,” Grady said quietly. “If anything happens . . .”

“I scream,” I told him— something I’d yet to have to do.

Grady stepped in to me, his hand moving to my arm. “Be careful,” he whispered. “Please.”

My heart squeezed. “I will be.” I smiled at him. “It’ll be okay.”

Grady stiffened. “You keep saying that.”

“And maybe you’ll start believing me.”

“Or maybe you’ll start believing it.”

I tensed. A weird mixture of sensation hit me— confusion and an emotion that scalded my insides, making me wonder if I shouldn’t be okay with any of this. If I already knew the answer to that and my words were all false bravado and deflection. I turned from him, more than just a little unsettled. But now wasn’t the time for deep introspection.

Because I was already a bit nervous. I was every time I did this. I liked to think anyone would be, because I never knew what was waiting on the other side of the walls. I wasted no more time, reaching for the gold ornate knobs. Unlocked as expected. I stepped inside an antechamber lit by a lone lamp placed by a deep-seated settee. The doors made no sound as I closed them behind me. I hesitated for only a few seconds as I scanned the space. It was empty except for the rich furnishings draped in lush fabrics and carved out of smooth, glossy wood, but there was . . . there was a presence here.

A tangible energy that coated my skin, eliciting a wave of goose bumps. My mouth dried as I turned to the rounded archway that led to the bedchambers. Fingers still twisting the sash nervously between them, I started forward even as unease resurfaced.

I assumed that whoever was here would be expecting company. Surely, Claude would’ve made sure of that. After all, the doors were unlocked. But I heard nothing as I entered the darkened bedchamber. My steps slowed as I allowed my vision to adjust to the darkness. I inched closer, making out the door leading to the bathing chamber left slightly ajar. Power also drenched the walls and floor. Tiny shivers coursed over my skin. My heart began to pound even faster. I knew this feeling, and there was a scent here. A soft, woodsy aroma that reminded me of—

Suddenly, I could no longer see the door of the bathing chamber. The room had become pitch black, leaving me blind, and that . . . yeah, that wasn’t normal. I started to take a step back.

A rush of warm air stirred the edges of my robe. My fingers slipped away from the sash as I went completely still, holding my breath. The nape of my neck tingled. The air of the chamber shifted, thickened and became electrified, reminding me of the atmosphere right before lightning struck.

I wasn’t alone in the utter, unnatural darkness. The breath in my lungs left me in one ragged exhale as an acute awareness pressed against the entire right side of my body. It was like I was suddenly standing too close to open flames. Instinct kicked in, not the kind fueled by my abilities but the kind fueled by pure need to survive. It screamed that I flee.

My trembling lips parted to speak or maybe scream, but before a single sound could escape, an arm came around my waist, jerking me back against a hard wall of muscle. I was lifted until my feet no longer touched the floor— until they dangled several inches from the floor.

There was no mortal I knew who could lift me so easily, and that could only mean—

“I have two questions, and each answer better be honest,” a deep voice drawled, his cadence of speech almost relaxed but the tone low in warning, at the same instant a warm, callused hand pressed on the expanse of skin above my breasts, forcing my back against a . . . a chest. “What are you doing in my quarters?” Breath stirred the wisps of hair at my temple. “And do you have a death wish?”





CHAPTER 13


A Hyhborn.

The Baron had sent me to the quarters of a freaking Hyhborn.

And not just any Hyhborn. Him.

Lord Thorne.

I grasped his forearm. My fingers met smooth, crisp linen. The hold on me was nothing like when Muriel had grabbed me, but it still caused panic to ripple through me.

“That’s not an answer,” Lord Thorne chided softly.

Then he moved.

In two steps, he had me pinned, my cheek plastered against the wall and my arms trapped. His strength was terrifying, sending my pulse into a frantic pace. I pushed back against him, trying to lower my feet to the floor. He pressed in, the full length of his body encaging mine.

“I suggest that you try again,” he said, his cheek grazing mine. “You’re getting a very rare, very generous offer. I suggest you don’t throw it away.”

“It’s me,” I said. “We’ve— ”

“I know it’s you,” he interrupted, and my eyes went wide. “But that doesn’t answer my questions, na’laa.”

It took me a heartbeat to remember. “I was sent to you.”

“By?” The arm at my waist shifted, and I felt his hand open along the side of my waist and his fingers press into the thin robe.

“Baron Huntington. He said you were expecting company.”