“No one knows. We’ve not seen him for many years—sometime around the late fourteenth century.” Arthur turned to face me. “Amara, you must do this. For the Lilithians, for the humans—for vampires—” he paused for a breath, “for David.”

“I can’t. I don’t know how. Arthur, I can barely find the will to live anymore.”

He gasped. “Amara, do not say such things. It pains me to hear you speak that way. So many have fought and died for your survival—your mere existence is a miracle.”

“But my existence is nothing, Arthur, not without David. It’s nothing.” I let tears stream freely for him to see.

The gentle, familiar eyes of David’s uncle traced my cheeks, softening as they came back to meet my gaze. “Such a sweet thing,” he said and stroked a thumb across my tears.

I rolled my face into his touch, so automatic, because it was so like David’s in every aspect that it seemed only natural to accept him.

Seeing my guard drop suddenly, he moved in and wrapped me in his arms. “Shh, my sweet girl. Please don’t cry.” And with every tingle of his fingers over my hair, I could see so clearly where David formed many aspects of his personality.

But it was too much; his arms, his chest, the scent; “You feel like him,” I noted, drawing back, looking at his chest. “And you smell like him.”

“Well, we were related.” Arthur smiled, looking just as cheeky and sweet as David.

“I just—it makes me miss him more.”

“Oh, Amara. He was right to fight so hard for you. You are something very special—blood-line aside.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I suddenly find myself in complete understanding why both my sons felt such a great deal for you.”

Both of them? My breath stopped and I turned away instantly, covering my arms as little bumps rose up—consuming the softness of my skin. “Jason felt nothing for me.”

“I hope you don’t truly believe that.”

“Why?”

He exhaled. “You may never understand this, Amara, but what Jason did to you was far less than a council member would have, had they been examining you. It must have killed him inside to hurt you that way.” Arthur looked over the lake, his eyes lost to thought.

“I don’t care what he felt. There’s no words—”

“I know. Believe me, I know.” He looked back at me. “But I loved him, and despite the monster he had to be, I see him still for the boy he once was.”

“I find it hard to believe he was ever a boy—ever an entity of innocence.”

“And despite that, he was good. What he has done to you, to your life, Princess, is nothing in comparison to what he has suffered. But—” he paused, regaining composure, “I expect he is at peace now.”

“I hope not. I hope he’s rotting in hell,” I said through gritted teeth. “He threw David on the fire. He picked him up and tossed him away, like he was nothing!” I covered my mouth, restraining my fury; oh my God, I just yelled at a high councilman—David’s uncle, nonetheless.

Arthur rested a fist against his lips for a second. “He had no choice. He had to be the one—that hurt you. He was compelled to love you, but forced to destroy you. It was his blood oath, Amara.” He reminded me of David then; scary when he got heated about something. “He couldn’t walk away—he had to play a role. Can you understand that?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what a blood oath is, Arthur, and I don’t care. All I know is—”

“Wait?” He sat at the edge of the seat. “You don’t know what a blood oath is?”

“No. What does it matter?”

“It is everything, Amara, my dear—it is the reason for all of this.”

“Okay. I’m listening,” I said, internally rolling my eyes.

“A blood oath is the promise, sworn in your own blood, on the stone of truth, that you will uphold your word—follow any bidding of the entity of which you have sworn to. Jason’s oath was bound to the ruler of the throne; the command iron clad—no way around it.”

“Why would he take an oath to do whatever someone orders him to? That’s crazy.”

“Yes, but it was a means to an end. He took the oath when he joined the Blood Warriors about two years ago. You may have seen—” Arthur looked down at his arm and made a circle-like motion with his finger, “—a mark, a band around his arm?”

“That’s what that was?” My mind flicked to the memory of Jason by the lake—his tattoo.

“You saw it then?”

“Yes, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

Arthur’s lips closed into a thin smile. “He wanted to change the vampire-human relations law, but needed a position on the council. The only way in at that time was to start at the bottom—swear an oath, join the Warriors then work his way up.” Arthur took my hand again. “Amara, when you swear an oath in blood, you are physically bound to act on your word. He had no choice but to hurt you; he knew if he was in control of your torture, it would not be so brutal as if it were another warrior or a council member.”

“I don’t understand—are you saying he didn’t want to hurt me?”

“You didn’t know that?” he asked, astonished. “Do you not know the things he could have done to you?”

“No. I don’t. All I know is he had a list and he—”

“He didn’t complete the list, girl.”

I recoiled internally at his raised voice.

“He could have had the entire list finished within your first few days. I—” It was amazing to watch him become suddenly so uncomfortable, like Dad when he bought me my first bra. “I read what was expected; you have no idea how lucky you are that he didn’t progress even one task further.”

The memory of the dark, wet walls, and the itch all over my skin crept back in. “Really?”

“I assume you saw the tools—on the table?”

I nodded.

“Well, then, perhaps you can understand.”

“No.” I shook my head, bursting into tears. “If that was true, if he really cared all along, why did he make me kill David?”

“Oh, Amara.” Arthur wrapped his hand over the side of my face and swept me against the curve of his neck. “David had to die. There was no way around that—but it was a merciful death, at least, by your lips.”