Dark Vow (Blackwoods College)

“Yes, they are, but they’re still my brothers. How much worse do you want me to be? How much more can I stand before I lose all of my humanity?”

She chewed on her lip and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry it came to this.”

“I am too.”

She walked to the end of the pew and hesitated. I couldn’t read her expression. There was longing, there was anger—but also disappointment.

I hadn’t realized she was so thirsty for blood, but maybe I should have.

Well, it didn’t matter now. I made my choice. I’d walk away, my brothers would be punished, and Matthias would ascend to the top of the Solar family.

My father would accept it. Not right away, but eventually. Matthias would prove himself.

The Solar family would continue.

It would change, but it wouldn’t end.

That was more than it deserved. If I’d kept down this path, there’d be nothing left.

I watched Robyn walk away. She’d get her mother back. Her father would die. And her life would go on.

As for me? Well, I didn’t know what else mattered.

The door shut behind Robyn, and she was gone.

27

Robyn

Mom was home by five that night.

“Oh, honey, you should’ve seen that hotel. It was enormous. The kind of place your father used to take me when we first got married. Diana was such a wonderful host, so gracious and kind.” Mother stood in the kitchen, smiling at me. She put a kettle on for tea.

I expected her to pour a big glass of wine, but she didn’t.

Her eyes were clearer than I remembered. She was looking at me and seeing me, really seeing me. I sat down, startled.

Diana hadn’t lied. Mom really was doing better. “What happened there? You seem more yourself.”

“Diana took away the pills.” Mom laughed lightly. “I think they were holding me back.”

“Sounds like you got lucky.”

Mom shrugged and leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. She had no clue that she’d been in so much danger. If something had gone differently, my mother might be dead right now.

Instead, she was off the pills and smiling like she’d been given a second chance.

I wanted to scream in rage and pain.

Calvin shouldn’t have made this deal. He was giving up too much for me. His entire life, his whole future, gone to get my mother back, a woman I hated and loved at the same time. I didn’t understand why I was worth any of this.

He could win. It would take blood—but he could do it. There had to be a way.

Instead, he walked. He turned and walked and now I was left here reeling, trying to pick up the pieces.

I didn’t know where this left us. He hadn’t said anything about our marriage, and I’d thrown it in his face, threatening him like a child. I hated myself for doing that. It was an ugly, awful thing.

But I couldn’t stand the idea of him giving up for me.

“You look stressed, sweetie.” Mom hovered then sat down across from me. “Want to talk about it?”

“Just stupid boy stuff.”

She laughed. “It’s always boy stuff.”

I looked down at my hands. I didn’t want to tell her about how I felt. She’d already made it clear that she thought I should walk away from Calvin, and there was a part of me that agreed. Calvin was trouble. He was a nightmare. He was pleasure and pain and everything good and bad all wrapped up in one classically gorgeous beast.

And I wanted him. God, yes, I wanted him. I didn’t want this to be over.

That was what hurt that most. I didn’t want this to end.

It was selfish and dumb, but I felt it.

“You know I’m still mad at you.” The tears came then. They choked me, but I forced them back.

Mom’s face fell. “I know you are.”

“I’m so mad at you.” I glared at her, jaw tightening. I shouldn’t do this. Not right now. It wouldn’t change anything. “You let him hurt me.”

“I know.”

“I hate you for what you did. I hate you for doing nothing.”

“I hate myself too, sweetie.” She didn’t meet my eye. “I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t change anything.”

“No, Mom, it doesn’t change anything at all. I still got hit all those years. I still have the scars.”

She let out a soft breath. A tear rolled down her cheek. I was so used to my mother crying at this point that it barely registered. She’d shed so many tears for my father—but so few for me.

“I was scared. I know that’s a bad excuse. I’m a terrible person. How could I let my own baby girl get hurt like that? By her own father? I thought—I was so afraid. I’ll never forgive myself for what happened, and I don’t expect you to forgive me either, but I hope we can have a normal relationship again one day.”