Page 124 of Devoted

That I was a good sister. That I loved my brother. That I would honor the promise I’d made my father.

All lies.

I’d neglected my brother these past months. Left him to fend for himself, to swim in shark-infested waters he hadn’t been trained for, to navigate daily life with our monstrous uncle without being fully prepared for the danger. Luca might be my twin, but he’d never been equipped for this life, while those years I’d trained and studied made all the difference between surviving and… suffering.

And now, he was going to… I shoved that thought to the back of my mind with every bit of strength I had left.

Luca wasn’t going to die.

He was my little brother, for fuck’s sake. By three whole minutes.

Shame washed over me again in great, gagging waves. My little brother. And I’d failed him when he’d needed me most.

I’d sensed something was wrong. Seen Luca’s slow deterioration for myself, felt his inner pain inside my own heart, and ignored all the signs. But even more… Ottavia had warned me this was happening, hadn’t she?

He has such darkness inside him now… a hole that will never be filled… watch as he changes from good to evil…

My own mother had given me one of her cryptic warnings, and as usual, I’d deciphered it far too late to be of any help.

Valeria stood in a corner with her arms crossed while her healers worked—spells and ice packs to get his temperature down, potions and human antibiotics for the infection. Magic and medicine, mixed together, and right now, I wasn’t sure which I trusted more.

Every time they lanced the wound, more of that blackened blood oozed out, a gag-inducing reek filling the room. As though there was no end to the poison.

Luca surfaced twice while they worked, confused, in pain, and incoherent.

The first time, he slipped right back into unconsciousness; the second, his frantic gaze found mine and focused, hand squeezing with inhuman strength, mouth working, trying to form words.

“It’s all right,” I soothed, trying to sound reassuring. “You’re going to be okay, Luca. The healers are the best. They’ll get the infection under control, and you’ll be fine. I’m here. Don’t try to talk.”

He shook his head. Tried again.

“Warn… you. Ne..ssss,” he got out. His voice had the quality of something dragged up from an abyss—throat scraped raw, the sound barely there. “Rooom.” His pupils shifted wildly from side to side, fingers squeezing mine with frenetic strength.

“You’re in the infirmary,” I glanced at the black crawling up the side of his neck and tried not to panic. “But when you’re better, you can go back to your room.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, head whipping from side to side. “Nooo, Em!” He arched up off the pallet, tendons straining from the effort. The healers pressed him back down, giving me a stern look. “Nesss…nessss…ttt.” His gaze went unfocused, the thread of sound slipping from his lips turned into air as his head flopped to the side.

“He needs his rest.” Gia laid her hand on my shoulder, firm and resolute, enough I didn’t argue. “It will take all his strength and all our magic to fight this infection, and speaking only weakens him. And upsets him.” She gave me a disapproving frown.

“This dark magic is very specific and spreading from a contact wound. A wound that was allowed to fester for days. The infection is in his bloodstream, and may have caused brain damage.” Her frown softened into a sad, sympathetic smile. “At this stage, all we can do is try to contain it.” A pause. “But we cannot be sure he’ll pull through. We’ll know more by morning.”

Morning.

By morning, my twin could be gone.

Fear bloomed cold, stark, and real in my chest.

Hope… shriveled away like flowers beneath the frost.

All the time I thought we’d share—weddings to our respective lovers and even our children playing together—would never happen. I might only have these few hours left with Luca. Hours I never had with father. Or my mother.

I looked at the door, then my brother’s unconscious face.

I was supposed to be inside La Sala right now, carving through Blackwood’s forces, weakening my uncle’s grip on the Dynasty. Instead, here I was, facing the proof of my failure. Watching my brother… die.

“You should stay with him,” Dante said gently from the doorway, where he’d obviously heard every word. “Nico and I will handle whatever’s waiting at La Sala. If we have to find another soldier to fill your spot, that’s what we’ll do.”

“They won’t know the layout,” I said automatically. “They won’t understand what they’re even facing until they’re through those doors.” And then what? Would they freeze? Or worse, get in the way?