Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

Her chuckle wasn’t very much more than a puff of air. “I was like you once. Not some orphan scraped off the streets, but nothing much better. A poor farmer’s daughter, one of three with an empty belly but heart and head full of nonsense.”

My brows inched up at what sounded distinctly like an insult, but I kept quiet.

“And just like you, I was more than willing to trade anything to not go to bed hungry every night,” she said, staring at the candles along the wall as I sat on the edge of another stool. “Not to wake up every morning knowing I was going to end up just like my mama, dead before she entered the fourth decade of life, or like my pa, made miserable by the toll of working the fields. When I met Baron Huntington— Remus Huntington?” Her wizened features softened as she spoke of Claude’s grandfather. “I was more than happy to give him what he wanted in exchange for being kept fed and sheltered. Comfortable. He was kind enough, especially when I gave him a son his wife passed off as her own. I raised Renald though. He was still my boy— Claude’s father. I also gave him a daughter. Named her after my mama. Eloise. Raised her too. Somehow I outlived them all.” She laughed again, shoulders sinking before she took another drink. “Old blood. That’s my family. Our blood is old. That’s what my pa used to say.”

Slowly, she turned her head toward me. “You know what old blood is?”

I shook my head.

“It’s another name they like to call the caelestias. Old blood. Meaning many of our ancestors can be traced all the way back to the Great War. Even before then. Can be traced all the way back to the first of them, those who were once the stars watching over us. Older than the king who rules now. As old as the one who came before.”

“First of them?” My intuition went silent, and that told me enough. “The Hyhborn?”

Maven nodded. “To the Deminyens. The watchers. The helpers.”

Thorne . . . he had called the ancient Deminyens that. Watchers. “What does that have to do with starborn?”

“If you stop making unnecessary comments, I’ll get there.”

I closed my mouth.

Maven laughed hoarsely. “Did you ever think about how strange caelestias are? For one to even come into creation? We come from a Deminyen— not their offspring. For a caelestia to be born, it has to be one of them and a lowborn, and ain’t that strange?”

I guessed so, but I didn’t want to speak.

“Think about it.” She looked over at me. “Deminyens can fuck half this realm and never have a child.”

A giggle crawled up my throat upon hearing her curse, but I wisely swallowed it.

“They got to choose to have one. Now why would they want to create a child with a lowborn?”

When I said nothing, she looked at me pointedly. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe because they’re . . . in love?”

She cackled so deep and hard, liquor sloshed over the rim of her cup. I couldn’t blame her. It sounded ridiculous to me. “Maybe. Maybe so, but every creation has to have the groundwork laid, and that’s what the Deminyens were doing back then. Laying the groundwork for those born of the stars.”

I really had no idea what she was rambling about, but I stayed quiet and listened.

“And I’m of the mind that some of them don’t like that groundwork. At least that’s what my pa always said. You probably think it’s because they’d want to keep their blood pure, right?” she said, and yes, that was exactly what I thought. Her thin, bloodless lips curled, revealing yellowed, aged teeth. “I’m of the mind they don’t want that because of what that old blood does. Allows the stars to fall.”

The back of my neck tingled. “Starborn? You talking about caelestias?” I asked, confused.

“No. Not them. They ain’t born from the stars.” She raised a hand, pointing a finger at me. “The stars don’t fall just for anyone, but they . . .” That spotted hand disappeared back into her sleeve as she lifted her cup with the other. “They used to say that when a star falls, a mortal is made divine.”

My brows inched up my forehead. “Divine?”

“Divine like my other grandbaby, girl.” She raised the cup in my direction as if she were saluting me. “Divine like you.”

“Me?” I squeaked. “I’m not a caelestia—”

“You ain’t no ordinary lowborn, now are you? With seeing the future. With peering into the minds of others. No, you ain’t. Old blood,” she repeated. “Once one is born, everyone that comes after has that chance. And there are more than you think.” Her stare turned shrewd as she drank. “Ain’t no one ever really questioning how conjurers got their knowledge, the know-how when it comes to Hyhborn parts. Old blood.” She laughed hoarsely. “Ain’t no one questioning anything.”

Surprise rolled through me. Conjurers had descended from Hyhborn? “I didn’t know . . .” I trailed off, a strangled sort of laugh leaving me. “Of course, I wouldn’t know.” Not if what she said was true. “My intuition has never been much help when it came to Hyhborn.”

“Strange, ain’t it?”

I nodded slowly. So many questions whirled about.

“Strange that we’ve all forgotten the truth.”

“The truth?”

Maven stared down at her cup, face hidden once more. “Good and evil are real. They always have been. Yet the weight of the realm has always fallen on those in between, ones neither good nor bad. That’s what my pa always said.” She lifted her drink again. “But he was also a drunk, so . . .”

I blinked slowly.

“There are Deminyens moving about this town, these walls, right?”

“Yes. A prince and two lords.”

“A prince.” She humphed. “It was bound to happen.”

“What was?”

“That he came.” Her head turned to me. “For what is his.”





CHAPTER 29


A sharp swirl of tingles erupted along the back of my neck. That he came for what is his. My heart thudded. That same feeling as before returned, settling in my chest. Rightness. Acceptance.

I leaned forward, clasping my knees. “Are you— ” A burst of nervous energy pounded through me. My body moved without will, turning on the stool, toward the door a second before it swung open, slamming into the table with enough force to rattle the candles.

Hymel stood there, eyes narrowed. “What are you doing in here?”

“Nothing.” I rose, wiping my palms on my thighs. “I was just returning the headpiece I wore last night.”

Hymel’s gaze shot to Maven. “And to do that you had to be sitting down?”

“Maven was a bit unsteady on her feet,” I quickly said, not so much instinct guiding me to lie but just my general distrust of the man. “I got her something to drink and was just making sure she was okay.”

Maven said nothing as she lifted her cup, finishing off the liquor I really hoped Hymel couldn’t smell.

“She looks fine to me,” Hymel growled.

“Yes. Thankfully.” I turned, nodding at Maven. The old woman gave no indication of seeing me or anyone else. I hesitated, wanting confirmation of what I suspected, but she was staring at the candles, and Hymel waited. Stamping down on my frustration, I left the chamber.

Hymel stalked out behind me, closing the door. “What were you in there talking about?”

“Talking? With Maven?” I forced a laugh. “We weren’t talking.”

His upper lip curled. “I heard someone talking.”

“You heard me speaking to myself,” I replied, focusing on him. “And what would it matter if we were talking?”

Hymel’s jaw clenched. “It doesn’t,” he said, glancing at the door and then back to me. “Don’t think you’re needed here.”

Hands opening and closing at my sides, I turned stiffly and walked out from the alcove and through the narrow servants’ corridor. When I reached the doors to the foyer, I looked back and saw that Hymel no longer stood there.

Since he most likely had gone back into Maven’s chamber, there was not a single doubt in my mind that he knew all of what Maven had shared.