A Shield of Glass (A Shade of Vampire #49)(10)

Draven, on the other hand, was worryingly composed, despite the boiling storm of emotions inside him. I could feel him ready to explode, and I made it my mission to keep him strong and unyielding, with us till the end. I had an inkling of what he was going through, but I’d only been here a few weeks. He’d been at this for decades.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, though not with as much confidence as I’d hoped. “We’ve made it this far without them, haven’t we?”

“We had the Daughter!” Draven snapped, and shot up from his chair. “Don’t you see? We’ve been able to do all this because we had the Daughter and the protective shield. Now they’re both gone! Your brother and best friends are out there, hunted for their Oracle abilities—which, by the way, they didn’t ask for. And I made an oath. I promised! I promised you, Serena, that I would keep them safe! That I would keep you all safe. I failed. I failed miserably…”

His voice broke as he walked over to the window. Jax, Hansa, Jovi, and Zeriel watched him carefully, as did Rebel and Thorn.

“No, you haven’t!” I stood in response, angered by his rush to label himself a failure. “You can’t control the Daughters! Clearly, they’re just whiny and capricious creatures with way too much power and no common sense. You didn’t fail. They failed. The moment they let their little sister get snatched by Azazel, they failed! Now they’re pointing fingers at us, like we’re to blame. No, Draven. No!”

He stilled, his eyes settled on the sky.

“You’ve done some incredible things so far, Draven. Don’t let these spoiled brats make you think otherwise. You kept their sister safe. You protected Oracles. You even united the free people of Eritopia against Azazel, while they stood on the side and moaned and did nothing!” I added. “You have no inkling of how grand your accomplishments really are, or you have a very low opinion of yourself, if you allow the Daughters to bring you to the point where you call yourself a failure.”

“Also.” Hansa stood up. “While the Oracles and the Daughter were an enticing advantage to fighting by your side, rest assured, Druid, they’re not why I offered my sisters’ and my support. It’s your spirit I’m interested in. You’ve got what it takes to bring that slithering monster down, Draven. You carry your father’s noble character, and you’ve added your own greatness on top of that.”

“Besides, the Daughters are highly overrated.” Jax smirked from his chair, settled in a relaxed pose, with one leg over the other. “I stopped relying on those emotional thunderstorms a long time ago, my friend. I’m interested in what you bring to the table. They’re obviously only out for themselves and not worthy of Eritopia. We, on the other hand, are the ones on the ground and suffering. We’re the ones who will fight and the only ones who will take it back.”

“Who needs the Daughters anyway?” Jovi muttered, walking to my side. “Who needs them when we’ve got this fine group of warriors here, led by one of the best Druids I’ve ever met?”

Silence fell between us for about half a minute before Draven broke it.

“I’m the only Druid you’ve ever met,” he replied dryly.

I stifled a chuckle, relieved to feel his rage slowly subside as his gray eyes gradually brightened. Jovi scratched the back of his head, putting on an exhausted grimace.

“Gah, minor details. Listen, Draven, if it weren’t for you, we’d all most likely be dead by now,” he said. “Aida, Vita, and Phoenix would be withering away in glass bubbles while the whole of Eritopia burned. You’ve brought incubi and succubi together, dude. Do you not realize what an accomplishment that is? Giant Dearghs, Lamias, Tritones, Maras, Bajangs, and all the other creatures out there… They’ve all been waiting for someone like you to bring them into an alliance, to lead them!”

“No one in this room and no one headed toward Stonewall right now joined you because of the Daughter. And that shield is not the end of the world, either.” Zeriel shrugged. “Perhaps it’s a good thing it’s gone. Why don’t we show the Daughters exactly how useless they are, instead of expecting them to help?”

“We stopped praying to the Daughters the moment Almus first came to us.” Thorn raised an eyebrow. “I’d rather put my faith in a Druid than in one of those pink-haired disasters, thank you very much.”

Draven nodded slowly, looking at each of us with slight amusement. His gaze settled on me, softening. I tried to project everything I felt toward him—the determination, the affection, the trust, and the hope that as long as we stayed together, we could overcome anything.

“Thank you,” he replied. “Thank you all for your trust in me. I cannot begin to explain how energizing your words are. How empowering…”

“Hey, what are allies good for, if not to hold each other up when darkness falls?” Hansa winked and resumed her seat, sifting through more scrolls. “Now, back to work. The children are on their way, and Azazel will not defeat himself.”

“Best to find a way to shield your Oracles once they get here,” Rebel interjected. “If Azazel can indeed feel them, let’s not put Stonewall at risk.”

“Isn’t there anything in these Druid manuals of yours for this kind of thing?” Thorn asked. “I mean, you fellows have been ruling the planets for thousands of years now. Surely you must have some dirty tricks up your sleeves.”