She would have told Tucker that she’d already been whole.
That she’d already been home. With him.
Sight was a gift. Sight was extraordinary. But having it didn’t determine her ability to love. To be loved. It didn’t determine whether she was worthy of love, either. Her heart did that. Her choices. Her actions. They made Mary who she was—and Tucker had nurtured that truth when others didn’t. Others who should have.
She was a blind person. The lack of sight was part of her. Learning to compensate for not being able to see had turned her into Mary. Someone she admired. Someone she was at peace with. And if Tucker would have waited one more minute, she would have told him that sight meant nothing if she couldn’t look upon his face.
When she’d begged Hadrian to allow her one moment to see Tucker, he’d released her from the dream with a wave of his wrist. With her last seconds of sight, she’d wanted desperately to glimpse her vampire, if only so he would know she’d choose him above all others, whether she was or blind or not. But the leader of the dark uprising wouldn’t allow it and the lost opportunity was excruciating. Had Tucker interpreted her grief as something else?
Mary sat up in the bed and composed herself as much as possible with her heart shattered in a million pieces. She bounced between melancholy and indignation at Tucker for leaving her without so much as a discussion. But mostly, she was determined.
“Mother, a lot has happened since I left New York. Even though I was only away for a short time, I’ve had a lot of time to think and experience and feel.” To fall in love. “It isn’t easy for me to say this, because I know for so long, we’ve had this promise between us. That we would find a way to bring back the fae and reunite our family, but…I don’t think this is the right thing for me.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I don’t think it’s the right thing for you, either—”
Footsteps coming closer on the other side of the door cut her off.
Malice danced in the air, far more substantial than in her dream. It thickened in the atmosphere around them like smoke. Hadrian was coming. And in that moment she realized how utterly naïve she’d been all along. Until coming face to face with her intended, she’d only heard stories of evil doers. Immortals with bad intentions. Mere fables. Maybe she’d even been idealistic enough to believe that kindness could change someone. Right now, though, she couldn’t stop thinking of the pure, black hatred in Hadrian’s eyes.
In her dream, he was more serpent than vampire. Slithering and gliding instead of walking. It brought to mind Tucker’s theory that a Silenced vampire could be good or bad, depending on how they died. If that was true, Hadrian must have died while wielding destruction.
A door creaked open slowly. “Ah, she’s awake.”
Mary couldn’t disguise the shiver that blew up her spine. “I’d like to speak to my mother alone, please.”
“Mary!” Tilda admonished. “She’s still waking up,” she explained to Hadrian.
“I’m not a child. I know exactly what I’m saying.” Mary wished she wasn’t in the vulnerable position of lying in bed. Wished she were fully dressed, instead of wearing the oversized T-shirt her mother must have found in her suitcase, mistaking it for a nightgown. But it wasn’t. It was Tucker’s. God, she could smell him on it and it bruised her insides with bereavement. “We’re having a private discussion.”
“Now, Mary,” Hadrian said, his voice reminding her of thorns pushing up beneath silk. “I came here to restore your sight as a sign of good faith before the wedding. But perhaps we should wait until afterward.”
She kept her features schooled, but her thoughts raced.
First, there was no way she could marry this man.
Not only did he have evil intentions for the underworld, but marrying another would dishonor her love for Tucker. Even being in this vampire’s manor with a union having been discussed felt inherently wrong. It turned her stomach.
Second, she had to get back to Tucker.
Had to find a way out of here fast, before she was forced to go through with the wedding, and track down the only man she would ever love. The man whose absence was like a gaping hole in her chest.
Escaping was key—and she had a feeling Tilda wouldn’t be any help whatsoever. Even now, she could feel disapproval radiating from the woman. Mary was no match for Hadrian, the vampire who could give Tilda what she wanted above all else. Her husband and influence back.
Power.
Mary would never be enough for her. But Mary was enough for herself.
That’s what counted.
The next few hours counted, too, and she could help herself a lot better and faster with the use of her eyes. She knew that even after just a short while of being able to see. Trying to escape the hold without her eyesight would be next to impossible. Where would she even go once she got outside?