Page 82 of Fate Unchained
A small, saccharine voice whispered in the back of her mind, He’s never spoken of you as anything other than an arrangement for a month.
Waving her hand, Morana continued, “Although I have to say, the king is a rather lazy lover. Since he’s a king, he’s never had to work for anything. But what he can offer …” She smiled and waved her hand. “He’s in thrall to me.” Her voice was gentle, like waves lapping on a shore. A soft tide, washing over her, up and down. “No vulk will ever worship you like that.”
Lilah felt small, like the chair was dwarfing her.
“Has anyone in your life put you first?” Morana asked.
Her head jerked up. An instant response was on her lips—a cry to tell Morana that she had people who put her first—but it died. “No.”
Morana’s eyes flashed. “I would, cousin. I would indeed.” Morana passed her the cup of tea. “Would you like to know what is really going on in Ulterra?”
She shouldn’t listen to Morana. She should block her out and focus on something else, but she couldn’t seem to. It was like Morana’s words captured her, and she couldn’t think of anything else. Lilah picked up the cup, the warmth seeping into her hands. “And what is that?”
“Thousands of years ago, we had the Deciding War.” Morana leaned forward. “But it wasn’t really a Deciding War. It didn’t decide anything, and ever since, the balance for Ulterra has remained perpetually teetering on the edge of a knife. The vulk, a prejudiced, unfeeling breed, decided who remained in Ulterra and who should be forced to live in the underworld simply because they had the strength to do so. Do you think that was right?”
“I’m sure they had reasons.”
Morana’s laughter rang bitter and hollow. “Really? Do you think the vulk took the time to understand the different breeds and creatures they banished? Look at you. You’re a researcher. A bibliosoph. Someone who knows exactly how to discover the right information. Do the vulk do anything like that? No. They fight first, and if they’re wrong … well …” Morana shrugged. “They would never admit it.”
Zann had dismissed her in Baba Yaga’s hut when she’d wanted to read some of the books, and he’d been an Alpha of the pack at some point. But Kyril—they worked well together—and he told her earlier that he trusted her.
When he said that, it was like getting a precious gift, and though they were words, she’d cradled them to her chest. She’d never forget what he’d said because she knew he didn’t trust anyone. “You hate the vulk.”
Morana took a sip of tea. “I do. Yes.” Her expression grew grave, her lower lip pouting slightly. However, her eyes remained hard stones. “I had a vulk lover, and he abandoned me. Like I was nothing.” Her eyes flashed green. “That’s exactly what will happen to you.”
The room blurred as if she were moving swiftly. Lilah wasn’t sitting in cold Herskala Hall anymore. She was at her aunt’s table, in her aunt’s kitchen. A strange green glow lit up the room like the suns’ light were filtered somehow. It was still cold.
She was completely alone. It was exactly how she’d felt after her aunt died and she’d learned about all the debts heaped on her head, except she wasn’t revisiting that day. Her aunt died in the summer, and this was winter. Somehow she knew this was the future, possibly a few days from now, and Kyril had left.
Aching sadness ripped through her. Of course he’d left. He wasn’t going to stay with her. You can’t count on anyone, a lulling voice whispered. Rain splattered against the window in hard raps, and she jumped.
The room around her blurred again, and now Lilah sat in Nihova Library. Alone. The shadows lay long across the stacks, and the rain continued to pound against the slate roof. She got up, her entire body heavy and weary, as if full potato sacks sat on her shoulders. She used her key to open the cabinet and took out the grimoire.
Pressing it against her face, she inhaled. Nothing. No lingering scent of Kyril remained. It had finally gone away. She tossed the grimoire back into the cabinet and turned away, leaving the doors open. The books in the stacks did not glow.
The room faded, and she was back sitting in Herskala Hall.
Morana leaned forward and laid her hand on Lilah’s. “Are you all right? I think you faded out there for a moment.” Her expression was all concern, but her gaze swept Lilah’s face as if searching for something.
Lilah sat frozen. What just happened? Was that truly her future? Pain lashed through her and she turned to look out the window. Morana was right. It was foolish for her to fall for a vulk.
Waving the brownie over, Morana bent down and murmured in its ear, and the small figure nodded once, then trotted off. “I’ll have him bring you something more substantial to eat.”
“Is that why you wanted me to capture a vulk? Because you hate them?”
A prickle went up the back of Lilah’s neck as Morana’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “You read the grimoire and used the spell to capture a vulk. Then you spent time with him. I’m curious, what do you think of the vulk?”
Lilah’s brows rose at the unexpected question. She sat back in her chair. Images of Kyril flashed before her, but it was the one of him standing in the cave, saying he would never take a mate that played over and over. He’d told her she was an inconvenience. An arrangement. She swallowed hard. “I’m not sure.”
Morana put her hand on Lilah’s. “What happened after you caught him? He must have been furious.”
Lilah nodded, but she felt like she was outside her body and watching herself. “Yes,” she whispered.
Morana’s voice lowered, her words like silk. “And a rune showed up. Did you call it? Why was it there?”
The rune.
She wasn’t here to tell Morana about her rune. She was here to get it back. Lilah took a deep breath. Focus. She did what she always did when she needed to center herself; she mentally replayed some of her favorite quotes. The fog inside her mind cleared. “I’m not certain why it appeared. It just did.” She lifted a brow. “How did you know a rune showed up?”