Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy #1)(75)

So…what was he doing? More importantly why was he doing it? I mean, this was Killian Drake. Even after all my time in Drake Hall I wasn’t optimistic enough—or deluded enough—to think he loved anyone. Not even himself, probably.

Killian unashamedly met my gaze, his obsidian red eyes bored. “Hardly the fairy tale awakening,” he said. “You look more like a troll.”

It took two tries to speak. “Your bedside manners suck.”

Killian’s right eyebrow twitched up. “You think I care?”

“What happened?” I tried to pull my hand from his so I could rub my eyes, but he wouldn’t give it up.

“You decided to make a go of securing the title Most Muleheaded, Stupid, Inept Idiot in the history of the world,” Killian said wryly.

“I remember that.” I shifted in bed a little, relieved to find I could move my body—with pain, yes, but at least I could feel everything again.

I froze abruptly as the details of the fight came back. “The seal broke.”

“I imagine you are referring to the seal on your magic, in which case you are correct.” Killian studied my wrist with puzzled interest. “Though from what I saw—and Celestina reported to me—there was no physical trigger. Do you know what did it?” He finally raised his gaze from my wrist, the red in his eyes more expressed in the flush of sunset bathing my room.

I leaned into the pillow propping me up and stared at the ceiling. My memory was slowly piecing itself together: the vampire, my injuries, and the overwhelming clarity the full force of magic brought to me. What had I been thinking right before the seal broke?

Hazily, it returned to me. I had decided I would spill blood and kill the murderous vampire if it meant saving people important to me.

“No,” I said out loud. “No—it can’t be.”

Killian was back to inspecting my wrists. “Hm?”

“Seals can’t be broken by thoughts, can they?” I asked.

“Can’t they?” Killian returned the question. “Isn’t true love and all of that junk nothing more than inner resolve?”

“But there’s no way my parents would do this to me.” My voice shook as tears threatened my eyes. “They wouldn’t seal my magic and condemn me to a constant fight against bullies and make the only way out to decide to kill someone. That’s against everything House Medeis stands for!”

Killian peered at me with interest. “That’s what broke the seal? You decided to kill the vampire.”

“To save you, Celestina, and Josh—yes.” I flung my free arm over my eyes and held my breath, trying to ward off the sobs that threatened to shake my shoulders.

How could they do this to me? Why would they do this to me? They were my parents, but it seemed like they did their best to make my life a misery! And why wouldn’t they want me to have stronger magic when they did?

In my pain, I twitched, automatically squeezing Killian’s hand.

I was shocked when, after a moment, he returned the squeeze.

He exhaled deeply. “I can’t believe I am the one suggesting this, but are you certain there isn’t a part of this you’re missing?”

I kept my arm over my eyes. “Like what?”

“Isn’t everything done for the House?” Killian asked. “It seems strange that your parents would paralyze the Heir when all of your kind revere the House and model their lives around its existence. Technically, they’ve hurt House Medeis even more than they hurt you in all of this. So perhaps there is a reason behind it all—you just can’t see it yet.”

I slowly lowered my arm as I mulled over his words.

He was right. As much as I had come to hate and loathe the saying, “The House comes first.” It had been drilled into all wizards since they could sit up as babies.

And obviously my magic—or lack of—had a huge effect on House Medeis.

Was it possible? But what reason could possibly justify all of this? It’s not like Mason could have been plotting already when I was born—he would have been ten!

The condition for breaking my seal had shaken me, but at least now I didn’t feel like crying. Maybe—when all of this was over—I’d ask Mr. and Mrs. Clark and the other senior wizards. They might know something. And in the meantime, I’d lose myself in training.

I awkwardly cleared my throat and shifted a little, making the bed creak and my muscles stiffen. “Did you find out anything more about her?”

Up went one of Killian’s eyebrows. “The murderer? Yes. Her name was Solene—previously Solene Flores. She was turned in the early 1900s by the Flores Family before opting to become an Unclaimed four years ago.”

“Why’d she leave?”

“It seems she bucked heads with the Flores Family Elder.” Killian brushed my wrist with his thumb, his touch cool and strangely comforting. “I don’t have certain confirmation of it, but it seems he disliked her and made her time with the Family…difficult.”

I grimaced in sympathy. “That’s why she freaked about the law limiting the number of Unclaimed.”

Killian shrugged. “She could have been adopted into another Family. With our numbers dwindling, most Families welcome adopted vampires now.”

“Yeah, but that’s a pretty new thing, isn’t it? I heard some of the Drake Family chatting, and it seems like being adopted usually puts a vampire in a lower position.”