Page 48 of The Wings That Bind

“Was, yes,” I said. “He was mortal, not fae. He died the night I was born, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Blake said again.

“I wouldn’t be too sorry,” I said flatly. “He spent his last night trying to find me so he could kill me. He sent his men out into the streets of Camelot, searching for any newborn babies because he had no idea where my mother might hide me. His soldiers were ordered to slaughter any infant they found. It was a massacre.”

Blake’s eyes were wide. “His people must have hated him.”

“Apparently he had a little change of heart towards the end. After he found me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he was a fucked-up bastard who would probably have killed my mother and me given half a chance.”

“Bloodmaiden, Pendragon,” Blake said slowly. “You’re one-upping me here. I thought I had the most fucked-up family.”

I snorted. “You? Your father was basically a Sangrathan folk hero, from the sounds of it. A vampire they called the Peacebringer? It sounds like a fairy tale. Nothing like the Sangratha I know.”

“Sure, but it sounds like Viktor and your dad would have hit it off,” Blake said with a twisted grin.

I shuddered. “You might have that right.” I looked at him curiously. “What about your mother, Desdemona?”

Blake’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Yes.”

“She’s alive … right? Do you ever see her?”

Blake looked across the room and out the window where snow was falling. “She’s alive, yes. Or so we’re told. When my father died, she decided to enter the Sanctum. Supposedly.”

I raised a brow. “Supposedly?” From what I’d seen of the Sanctum, it seemed the absolute last place I’d want my mother. But I didn’t say that.

“Viktor is our only source of information on her,” he said tightly. “She disappeared one night. Viktor said she was in the Sanctum. She’d left a note, a messy one. She’d never been all that devout, but … I suppose things change. Especially when one is grieving.”

“That’s true,” I said carefully. “But does being in the Sanctum mean she can’t leave? Can’t send messages to her children?”

“Oh, we’ve received messages,” Blake said, his voice bitter. “All passed through Viktor, of course. Women who enter become priestesses. It’s very exclusive, few are accepted. To become a priestess at the Sanctum is one of the greatest honors a devout highblood woman can attain. But usually they enter when they’re a lot older or much younger.”

“Not when they’re still raising a family,” I said softly.

Blake gave a tight nod.

“Do you think she’s …” I bit my lip “ … safe? Do you trust Viktor?”

Blake laughed harshly. “Not by a fucking long shot—and that’s the problem. He can access her somehow. He can hurt her. Hell, he could kill her.” He ran his hands through his hair, hunching over. “Sometimes,” he said and shook his head, “sometimes I wonder. For all I know, she’s already dead.” He looked over at me. “She was a halfborn, you know.”