>>Ariston
I stood over Aelin's unconscious body, sword still raised, every part of me screaming to run him through for what he did.
But the fire in me faltered—just a little.
Because he was right about one thing.
I had wanted answers for as long as I could remember.
And now, finally, he was ready to give them.
"Fine-" I lowered my sword. Not because I trusted him—but because I wanted to.
Because he was Rael. My father, in every way but blood.
And then I saw it.
The cut I'd landed—clean across his ribs—had begun to bleed. It was a slight cut, one I didn't realize pierced through the skin but it did.
But the blood… wasn't red.
It was black.
!!!
Thick. Ink-dark. Viscous.
My breath caught in my throat. My voice came out in a whisper, drenched in dread.
"Your blood… it's—"
Rael glanced down, then clicked his tongue like I'd spilled water on his boots.
"You weren't supposed to see that."
My legs felt cold. My pulse dropped.
