Undying Hate | Book Three

Four | Dreams

"You said before you were committing treason. What did you mean by that exactly?" Sylvie had already guessed the vampire guards' commitment to protecting her had something to do with it. Still, her insomnia craved conversation—anything to keep the ache of missing her mates away.

The crisp night air made her shiver, but the screams of the turned in the distance froze her blood.

Shan scooted closer, letting the moonlight illuminate her face as she spoke, "a small group of the King's guard and the people never accepted Hayes as our ruler. The Fates didn't destine it, and the people didn't want it. So Haye's claim— in our minds at least— is illegitimate."

"But he's still King."

"That he is," Mila whispered, sitting crosslegged and resting her chin on her hand propped on her knees. She reminded Sylvie of Rosie a little bit, and the gesture made her even more homesick.

"He had a few strong guards that preferred his rule over his fathers, and they killed many of us. Once we saw what was happening, some chose to flee, and others lived hidden in plain sight."

"But you would've had to do things not to be discovered, right? You kidnapped shifters." Sylvies breathing quickened as Deacon looked away. So it was true.

"Yes, but we also fed them more than we were supposed to and sent healing salves whenever one was injured. There's only so much we could do not to risk death, but we did try, my q- Sylvie, I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise to me, but I think there might be some issues when we get home." She rubbed her arms and blew out a frosty breath. It was really fucking cold, and none of the vampires generated body heat, so she was basically screwed. 

She curled her chest over her thighs and hugged beneath her legs, hoping to retain some heat from her scant clothing when a thick fabric draped over her shoulders. She looked up to see Brodi in a singlet, his thick tactical jacket now wrapped around her. Smiling, Sylvie slotted her arms through and did up the zipper. Immediately the night didn't feel so hopeless, and she stared at the sky. 

"What was it that you said about the prophecies?" she asked no one in particular, but Shan answered.

"The Fates used to speak to the Fae about important events that would come to pass, and the Fae would write them down. Then, when we-" she sighed, clearly uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. "When we captured Kol, we found a diary in his pocket that shared visions from the Fates. Prophecies of a creature healing the division. At that time, no one knew what it meant, the division yet to happen, but now it makes sense. And seeing your marks just proves to us that this creature must be you."

As if a weight dropped from the sky and slammed into her chest, Sylvie's body grew heavy, her chest squeezing. No matter what she did, it seemed Fate always had a way of catching up with her. So much for free will.

"It's not her," Kol grumbled, eyeing them on the cold ground from his perch. "Look at her. She's weaker than all the species combined."

Brodi stepped forward and slapped him upside the head with a hard thwack, and Sylvie just clenched her jaw, turning her face away. It wasn't something she hadn't said to herself many times. It was just shit to know her husband's father didn't approve of her nor think she was worthy of anything worthwhile.

"A kindred bond hasn't occurred in a century, and now she's here with not one, but three?" Mila said in disbelief. "How can you be so delusional? And rude!"

"Perhaps being your prisoner has something to do with that," Kol snapped back, baring his row of sharp teeth. Like father, like daughter. 

Mila bared hers right back, but the stiffness of her posture when she turned around proved he had won the argument. Sylvie sighed and stared up at the old Fae. It was particularly frustrating sitting between ancient beings and looking around the same age physically. She assumed she wouldn't grow old after finding out she wasn't human, but she was also the first of her kind as far as she knew.