Page 126 of Devoted

I let the guilt eat me alive, wanting to disappear beneath the waves of blackness.

Months of waiting, days of planning, thousands of soldiers at the ready, and everything had come to a stop because of me. Because I’d failed to do the simplest of things. Look after my brother.

As of a few hours ago, our revolt was over.

The soldiers sent home to Draconi Island.

The forces gathered at the fortress were all back in their barracks by now, asleep. The DiSangue priests… doing whatever the fuck they did when they weren’t looking all murder-y with their sigils glowing. Severin and Valeria would have to attend today’s council meeting at La Sala, which I prayed wasn’t a bloodbath.

“Emilia is on her way. Severin is coming with her.” Nico shouldered past my husband to stand beside me, both of us staring pensively down at Luca. “She will figure out what’s wrong, Emberline. And she’ll know how to fix this.”

I just nodded. I didn’t tell him not to make promises he couldn’t keep because I was counting on Emilia, too. I was counting on her to get Blackwood’s poison out of Luca’s system. I couldn’t be the only one who caught the faint hint of creosote in the reek of his blood or the way the dark veins climbed up the right side of his jaw, right where the Summoners were marked.

Nico stared at the very same spot, his gaze shadowed.

“Once your brother is on the mend, we’ll move. Besides, this gives us more time to fine-tune the plan. I don’t want you blaming yourself for the delay. I mean that, princess. Your brother’s life is far more important than revenge.” He held my stare for a moment, then turned toward the door, shoulders slumping, and…

Luca’s hand closed around my wrist.

Out of habit, I jerked backward, my free hand going instinctively for the knife I didn’t have because I was in the bloody infirmary. Luca’s grip was firm enough to bruise, and his eyes were open.

Not glassy—focused, not on me.

On Nico.

Luca opened his mouth, and I braced for more breathless, incoherent ramblings, but the voice that came out of my brother’s mouth was not his. Dread snaked through my gut because it was one I recognized all too well.

“You are a fool. You think I don’t know your plans? You think I’m blind?”

The tone—one my brother could never have mastered on his own—was cold and ancient and filled with unshakable arrogance.

“I know everything. The soldiers. The priests. The Basin.” Luca’s lips moved, but Blackwood’s threat came out in a hiss of sound.

I backed away, horror rising as those eyes carved straight into me like a pair of daggers.

Could Blackwood see us right now?

Was he somehow inside the villa?

Behind me, Dante and Gabriel muttered curses and orders, healers fleeing the room with such haste, metal trays crashed to the floor. I kept my focus on my brother, telling myself I was not afraid, that Luca and I had been in worse spots, and we’d get out of this one, too.

But that tasted like a lie.

Nico was perfectly still, every piece of him focused on Luca or, rather, the monster controlling him.

Please don’t hurt him, I thought, Luca’s fingers bruising my wrist like a vise. Please don’t kill my brother.

“I told you what I wanted, Nicolò, and you repay me by planning an attack.” Blackwood tutted, fully focused now on his son. “Now, you will learn the cost of defying me. Since you will not join me, I suppose this one will have to do.”

A sound that was almost a laugh spilled from my brother’s lips. An awful, creaking sound, full of malice and genuine evil.

“The boy is so pure. So innocent. He makes such a lovely host.”

“Get the fuck out of him,” I hissed, lunging forward, only to be pulled away by—not Nico, but Dante, his strong arms wrapped around my middle, pulling me until my brother’s grip loosened, my wrist slipping free.

Those eyes that weren’t Luca’s slid to mine. “Little bird. What a loyal sister you are. Did you really think my shadows missed that day in the council chambers? No… I never miss. I always hit my target.”

Oh gods, it was true. Blackwood’s magic was inside Luca. I shuddered, reaching up to touch my cheek, the small spot where he’d marked me.