The vampire lunged at me, his blade a blur aimed at my heart. I sidestepped, my body already moving to counter, my stiletto poised to strike. But I never got the chance.
A shadow detached itself from the tunnel behind him. It was Rhyian.
He moved with a speed that defied physics, a silent, fluid predator. He wasn't the restrained Sovereign from the tower; this was the creature from my shop, unleashed and utterly lethal. He caught the attacking vampire from behind, one hand clamping over his mouth to stifle any sound, the other arm wrapping around his chest like a band of steel.
The Coven vampire struggled for a split second, his eyes wide with shock and terror. Then Rhyian twisted. A sharp, sickening snap echoed in the chamber, and the vampire went limp in his arms. Rhyian lowered the body to the ground with a chilling lack of ceremony, his movements quick and precise.
He straightened up, his silver eyes finding mine in the gloom. The fury in them wasn't directed at the dead vampire. It was directed at me.
"The fight was over," I said, my voice low and shaking, not with fear, but with anger. "I had it under control. You broke your promise."
"The situation was neutralized," he corrected, his voice a low, dangerous growl. He stalked toward me, his gaze sweeping over the carnage—the three dead vampires, the one unconscious, the eviscerated ghoul. His eyes lingered on the unconscious one. "You left one alive."
"He has information," I snapped. "Unlike the pile of bodies you're stacking up. I told you I could handle this. I told you to trust me."
"Trust?" He let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. He stopped directly in front of me, invading my personal space, his immense presence a suffocating force. "You just took on a four-man Coven hit squad, alone, in the dark. You used scavenger tactics and professional-grade disabling techniques. You move like a trained assassin, Carys. You want to talk to me about trust?"
His silver eyes blazed with a new, terrifying light. It wasn't just anger. It was suspicion. Betrayal.
"The 'lucky guess' about the tunnels. The 'reading' you've been doing. This..." he gestured around the chamber, "...is not something you learn from a book. This is learned in the field. This is learned through blood and survival."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that cut me deeper than any blade.
"Who are you? Who trained you? For seven years, what have you been doing?"
The questions I had dreaded, the ones I had so carefully hidden from, were now being thrown at me like daggers. My cover—the fragile lie of the meek mother who got lucky—was shattered. He had seen me in my element, and he was intelligent enough to connect the dots.
"I survived," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "That's what I've been doing. While you were sitting on your throne, I was learning that the world is full of things that want to hurt me and my son. I did what I had to do."
"What you 'had to do' was call for backup the moment you were compromised," he snarled. "You had five hostiles cornering you, and you did not give the distress signal. You deliberately endangered yourself. You deliberately endangered the mother of my heir!"
"I ended the threat!" I yelled back, my own anger flaring to match his. "I got the information! I did the job you sent me to do! A job your own Captain said was impossible for me! The only one who broke the terms of our agreement was you!"
"I broke the promise because you gave me no choice!" he roared, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "I watched a bolt that would have turned your heart to dust miss you by an inch! I am not going to stand by and watch the prophecy attempt to fulfill itself a second time! My promise to keep you safe supersedes my promise to stay away!"
We stood there, chest to chest, glaring at each other in the flickering lantern light, the dead bodies a testament to the chasm between us. He thought I was a fragile, reckless human who had stumbled into a hornet's nest. I knew I was a competent hunter who had been undermined at the final moment.
Before either of us could say more, a groan came from the corner. The vampire I had knocked unconscious was stirring.
Instantly, Rhyian's focus shifted. He was by the vampire's side in a flash, hauling him up by the front of his armor. The vampire's eyes fluttered open, widening in horror as he recognized Rhyian.
"Sovereign Dravos," he gasped.
"You have ten seconds to tell me who you report to," Rhyian said, his voice dropping to a lethal calm. "Who is the traitor in my court?"
The vampire spat a mouthful of blood and black ichor onto the floor.
"The righteous will cleanse the old blood. Malachi will..."
He never finished the sentence. Rhyian's hand tightened, and the vampire's neck gave way with a soft, final crunch. He dropped the fifth body to the floor.
"No!" I cried out, horrified. "He was our only lead!"
Rhyian turned to me, his face a mask of cold fury and something else I couldn't identify. Frustration? Fear?
"His mind was shielded. An old mental discipline. He would have told us nothing but dogma," he said, his voice flat. He then looked down at the burlap sack I still had slung over my shoulder. "You found the package. Give it to me."
I clutched the sack tighter.
"So you can destroy the evidence? This hand, this ring... it belongs to Silas."
The name landed in the silence like a stone. Rhyian's expression didn't change, but a subtle shift occurred in his eyes, a deep, chilling coldness.
"Silas Varen?" he said, his voice dangerously soft. "The archivist?"
"The kind, gentle professor who showed me your thousand-year-old proof," I confirmed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "He's the traitor, Rhyian. He's been playing you this whole time."
Rhyian stared at me, then at the sack, and back to me. He didn't look surprised. He looked... grimly resigned, as if he was seeing a final, unwelcome puzzle piece click into place.
He took a step toward me and held out his hand.
"Give me the box, Carys."
"No," I said, taking a step back. "This is my leverage. My proof. I don't trust you. I don't trust anyone in this tower."
His expression hardened.
"This is not a debate. The mission is over. You are returning to the tower, now."
"And what happens then?" I challenged. "You lock me back in my suite, armed with the knowledge that your mentor is a traitor, and handle it quietly? I don't think so."
For the first time since I'd known him, Rhyian looked uncertain. He was caught between his instinct to control, his fury at my deception, and the undeniable fact that I had succeeded where his own men had failed. I had uncovered a conspiracy that reached the very heart of his court.
I had just made myself the most valuable asset in his war. And the most dangerous liability to his secrets.