From blood and ash

Hawke seemed to be entirely focused on what he was doing, and that was a blessing. I didn’t want him to see how his touch affected me. “The vamprys revolted,” he said after scooping out more of the ointment. “That is what triggered the War of Two Kings. It was not mortals fighting back against cruel, inhuman Atlantians, but vamprys fighting back.”

My gaze flew from his hand to his face. Some of what he said felt familiar, but it was a twisted, darker version of what I knew to be true.

“The death toll from the war was not exaggerated. In fact, many people believe the numbers were far higher. We weren’t defeated, Princess. King Malec was overthrown, divorced, and exiled. Queen Eloana remarried, and the new King, Da’Neer, pulled their forces back, called their people home, and ended a war that was destroying this world.”

“And what happened to Malec and Isbeth?” I asked, even though I didn’t believe much of what he’d said.

“Your records say that Malec was defeated in battle, but the truth is, no one knows. He and his Mistress simply disappeared,” Hawke claimed, returning the lid to the jar. “The vamprys gained control of the remaining lands, anointing their own King and Queen, Jalara and Ileana, and renamed it the Kingdom of Solis. They called themselves the Ascended, used our gods, who’d long since gone to sleep, as a reason for why they became the way they did. In the hundreds of years that have passed since, they’ve managed to scrub the truth from history, that the vast majority of mortals actually fought alongside the Atlantians against the common threat of vamprys.”

I couldn’t even speak for what felt like an entire minute. “None of that sounds believable.”

“I imagine it is hard to believe that you belong to a society of murderous monsters, who take the third daughters and sons during the Rite to feed upon. And if they don’t drain them dry, they become—”

“What?” I gasped, my disbelief turning to anger. “You have spent this entire time telling me nothing but falsehoods, but now you’ve gone too far.”

Placing a clean bandage on the wound, he smoothed down the edges until it adhered to my skin. “I’ve told you nothing but the truth, as did the man who threw the Craven hand.”

I sat up, tugging down my shirt. “Are you claiming that those given in service to the gods are now Craven?”

“Why do you think the Temples are off-limits to anyone but the Ascended and those they control like the Priests and Priestesses?”

“Because they’re sacred places that even most Ascended don’t breach,” I argued.

“Have you seen one child that has been given over? Just one, Princess? Do you know anyone other than a Priest or Priestess or an Ascended who has claimed to have seen one? You’re smart. You know no one has,” he challenged. “That’s because most are dead before they even learn to speak.”

I opened my mouth.

“The vamprys need a food source, Princess, one that would not rouse suspicion. What better way than to convince an entire kingdom to hand over their children under the pretense of honoring the gods? They’ve created a religion around it, such that brothers will turn on brothers if any of them refuse to give away their child. They have fooled an entire kingdom, used the fear of what they have created against the people. And that’s not all. You ever think it’s strange how many young children die overnight from a mysterious blood disease? Like the Tulis family, who lost their first and second children to it? Not every Ascended can stick to a strict diet. Bloodlust for a vampry is a very real, common problem. They’re thieves in the night, stealing children, wives, and husbands.”

“Do you really think I believe any of this? That the Atlantians are i

“Not particularly, but it was worth a shot. We are not i

“Like murder and kidnapping?” I threw at him.

“That among other things. You don’t want to believe what I’m saying. Not because it sounds too foolish to believe, but because there are things you’re now questioning. Because it means your precious brother is feeding on i

“No.”

“And turning them into Craven.”

“Shut up,” I growled, shooting to my feet. The sharp, sudden movement barely causing me any pain.

Rising in one fluid movement, he quickly towered over me. “You don’t want to accept what I’m saying, even as logical as it sounds because it means your brother is one of them, and the Queen who cared for you has slaughtered thousands—”

I didn’t stop to think about what I did next. I was just so furious and afraid because he was right, what he’d said had prompted questions. Like how none of the Ascended were seen during the day, or how no one but they entered the Temples. But, worse yet, it raised the question of why Hawke would make all of this up. What would be the point of concocting this elaborate lie when he had to know how hard it would be to convince me?

No, I didn’t think about any of that.

I just acted.

The chain skidded across the floor as I swung on him, my hand curled into a fist.

Hawke’s hand snapped up, catching mine before it co

“Don’t.” His voice was a soft warning in my ear, one that sent a shiver down my spine.

I didn’t listen.

He grunted when the heel of my foot co

Suddenly, I found myself pressed against the wall with Hawke at my back. I struggled, but it was no use. There wasn’t an inch of space between him or the cold, damp wall.

“I said, don’t.” His warm breath drifted over my temple. “I mean it, Princess. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You don’t? You already hur—” I cut myself off.

“What?” He moved my arm so it was no longer caught between us. He didn’t let go, though. Instead, he pressed my hand into the wall, just as he did with the other one.

Clamping my mouth shut, I refused to tell him that he’d already hurt me. Admitting that meant there was something to hurt, to be exploited, and he already had enough to use against me.

“You know you can’t seriously hurt me,” he said, resting his cheek against mine.

I tensed. “Then why am I chained?”

“Because getting kicked, punched, or clawed still doesn’t feel good,” he returned. “And while the others have been ordered to not touch you, it doesn’t mean they’ll be as tolerant as I am.”

“Tolerant?” I tried to push off the wall but got nowhere. “You call this tolerant?”

“Considering that I just spent time cleaning out and covering your wound, I would say so. And a thank you would be nice.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me,” I seethed.

“No. Because you’re either too proud or too foolish to do so. You would’ve allowed yourself to rot instead of asking for help,” he said. “So, I’m not going to get a thank you, am I?”

Thrusting my head back was my answer. He anticipated it, though, and I didn’t manage to hit him. He forced my cheek to the wall. I wriggled, trying to break his hold.

“You are exceptionally skilled at being disobedient,” he growled. “Only second to your talent of driving me crazy.”

“You forgot one last skill.”

“I did?”

“Yes,” I gritted out. “I’m skilled at killing Craven. I imagine killing Atlantians is no different.”