Chapter 34: thirty-four

Olivia

Raven had dashed off, presumably to seek answers from Kaden. I, on the other hand, decided it was time to cleanse myself with a shower and perhaps coax some information out of Cole. I hadn’t anticipated feeling this way.

I felt… incredible, really. As if no harm had ever befallen me, as if I had just been birthed into this world. I had assumed the healing cycle would only mend my physical wounds, but it seemed to have healed the mental ones too.

I should have been furious about the secrets, and I wanted to be. But our bond was just too potent, and all I could feel was an overwhelming love for Cole.

I closed my eyes, letting the hot water cascade over my body, turning my pale skin a flushed red.

When I finally stepped out of the steam-filled shower, I noticed a set of underwear and a dark blue dress neatly placed on the sink.

I quickly slipped into the clothes, my nerves on edge in case someone was lurking around. I exhaled the breath I had been holding when I spotted Cole in the room, his hands casually tucked in his pockets.

He smiled and approached me, his hands emerging from his pockets to cradle my face, compelling me to meet his gaze. Not that he needed to, I could lose myself in his eyes all day.

“How do you feel, my love?” He asked.

“Good… Really good,” I replied as he planted a soft kiss on my forehead. His lips were tender, and I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his touch.

He picked up a strand of my still damp hair and chuckled, “Come, little dove, let me help you finish getting ready. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

***

“There are no humans here?” I asked as we strolled down the long corridors, our hands intertwined.

“No, only vampire servants,” Cole responded.

I found that utterly bizarre.

“Atticus never wanted things to turn out the way they did. He just wanted our kind to survive, to stop hiding in the shadows.

“That all changed when Rosewood was burned down. We assumed the human armies had done that, but now I’m not so sure,” he murmured.

“What does Rosewood Forest have to do with everything?” I asked.

“Someone he loved lived there.”

As we rounded the corner, we heard the shouting. A deep, masculine voice echoed through the halls.

“You dare speak to me in such a manner? I could have your head on a spike in seconds!”

Cole pulled me closer to him, but we continued walking until we reached the room from where the shouting originated. The door was ajar.

“Father,” Cole interrupted them. They both glanced at us. The woman was tall and thin, with short brown hair and deep green eyes.

“You!” She hissed, pointing at Cole.

“You killed my son.” She turned back to the older man, who I now realized was Cole’s father. The Vampire King.

“You know the law, Atticus! It’s your fucking law. I demand retribution.”

He slammed his hands against the desk, the room falling silent except for the cracking sound of the wooden desk.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, Martha; I’ve killed plenty of sons. And daughters,” Cole retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

“The law states that a vampire cannot take another vampire’s life without cause. Your son viciously attacked Cole’s fated, therefore making his life forfeit,” Atticus stated calmly.

“You have proof of this?” She asked.

Atticus snapped his fingers, and two vampires entered the room. They bowed at me and Cole before standing and facing Atticus.

“Where was the collar found?” He asked.

“Adam Sinclair’s position,” they replied in unison.

“They lie!” She screeched, causing the vampires’ fangs to protrude. They were black—was that normal?

“They are incapable of that. Stay a couple of days, Martha, mourn your son, and then return to your home and move on,” Atticus said before sitting back down.

He waved his hand, and the two vampires retracted their fangs and left immediately.

She huffed but stormed past us, her glare searing into me. Something told me this was far from over.

“Now that’s over with,” Atticus clapped his hands and made his way over to us, “Let me get a proper look at you! You look so much like your mother.”

“You knew my mother?” I asked, looking up at him. He didn’t resemble Cole, but he was still a striking man.

Atticus chuckled, “Oh yes, very well.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. Could my mother be the woman Atticus loved?

He nudged us out of the office, glancing at Cole, probably hinting for him to leave us alone. But Cole only tightened his grip on my hand.

“Well, follow me. I have a painting of her,” he said before leading us down the hall. I wanted to sprint after him. He had a painting of my mother!

All my life, I had dreamt of what my parents might look like. I would lay awake at night, concocting stories about them in my head.

He led us into another room. Unlike most of the castle, this room was bright and warm. Dust layered some of the furniture, indicating he rarely visited this room.

Cole released my hand as I wandered around, admiring all the little trinkets and pictures. My eyes were immediately drawn to the largest painting in the room.

It was hung on the far back wall. The painting depicted a tall woman with pale skin, long white hair, light blue eyes, and wings to match. She was regal and beautiful.

I gasped as I recognized her as the woman from my dream.

“You look so much like her, but you have your father’s grey eyes,” Atticus murmured beside me.

I reached up to touch the painting, but stopped just as my fingertips barely grazed the canvas.

“Did you… Did you love her too?” I asked, watching as his eyes widened at my question.