The Serpent and the Wings of Night

Silence. I could imagine the look on his face.

Her voice grew softer. “Think about what it must have been like for her. Growing up like that.”

My nose wrinkled. Growing up like what?

I was almost insulted that this point earned a thoughtful silence from Raihn.

Then, “Well, woe is her. So? We all have our shit.”

“Yours isn’t her fault.”

A long pause.

I chanced a step closer so I could peer around the corner. Raihn’s head was tilted back, his eyes looking straight up to the ceiling. Mische now stood behind him, leaning over the back of the chair to rest her arms around his neck, her chin on the top of his head in casual affection.

“You know that wasn’t her fault,” she said again. “That was your fault.”

My eyebrows rose slightly. Raihn did not seem like the kind of person to suffer that kind of insult—few vampires were. I tensed, as if cringing on Mische’s behalf for a sharp rebuff, verbal or physical.

But instead, to my shock, Raihn just let out a long sigh.

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

He patted her arm, and she pressed a chaste kiss to the top of his head.

“At least the day is over.”

“Small victories.”

“Drink some water. Now you’re going to have to survive a trial hungover, you fool…”

Their whispers faded away as I backed down the hall.