Dark Promise (Darkhaven Saga #3) - Danielle Rose Page 0,5

personally.

“I know you’re upset with me,” I say. I’m the first to speak, and I do so softly. I’m cautious because I don’t want to upset her. Not simply for personal safety, but also because I do cherish my life here.

I scan the room, looking for the best seating. Being the only two vampires in the room, we have our choice, but I want to be in earshot of the hunters outside. I don’t trust that the witches won’t see this as a preemptive strike against them. They’re paranoid enough to make matters worse.

There are several wooden benches lining the walls, and Amicia takes a seat at one. She ushers for me to join her. I hesitate before sitting directly beside her. Our legs touch, and the sensation of brushing against something so cold and solid jolts my heart.

Amicia has an unexpected strength to her aura—one that permeates into the space surrounding her. Everyone can feel it, even the witches. With her being so small and frail-looking, it’s jarring to feel threatened or scared of her, but she’s the strongest vampire I’ve ever met. Time allots the undead many things—the enhanced strength is probably the most coveted.

We’re similar in height, and once I unlock my full power, we just might be similar in vitality and vigor. But I’d never dare challenge Amicia—not unless I must, that is.

I don’t look at her. Instead, I eye the many open seats. With all the vampires elsewhere, this house has never felt so empty, so lonely. In addition to the benches, there are several tables and ottomans. Plants that thrive in the darkness clutter the space, making it difficult to assess how massive this room truly is, but it lines the entire right side of the manor.

The solarium is my favorite room in the house, which I find intriguing. In theory, this room is for sun worshippers, not vampires. And even before I transitioned, I was always a night owl. I’ve never cared for sunshine or early mornings or sunrises.

But I could watch a sunset until my retinas burned. Only when the sun finally slumbers and the world is blanketed in darkness do I truly feel alive. There’s something special about the night. It speaks to me in ways the light never did, never could. Sometimes I believe I was born to be a vampire, for I find my strength in the shadows. I’ve always been an outcast, a misfit, and I’ve never felt more loved, or more comfortable in my own skin, until I became one of them.

“I’m not upset with you, Ava,” Amicia says. Her voice is soft, clear, and completely unreadable.

I groan internally. I don’t believe her, but why would she lie? I’m beginning to think the witches’ paranoia is seeping into the house.

“I don’t want to help the witches,” I confess. This isn’t a total lie.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“I just… I don’t want Liv to die.” My voice is whisper soft and utterly vulnerable. I don’t miss the difference between Amicia, a leader, and me, a follower. Mamá used to think I would one day lead our coven. I laugh at the thought now.

If I’ve learned nothing else from my time with the vampires, I’ve learned I’m too rash to be a leader. I would charge into battle headstrong and watch my followers die. Look at what’s happening right now. If it were up to me, I would help the witches. Amicia must sense something I do not.

“I know she was your friend,” Amicia says.

I nod. “We were best friends.”

“But you’re not anymore,” she explains, her voice deadpan.

“I know.” This is beginning to feel strangely like an interrogation.

“Do you?”

I arch a brow and decide not to beat around the bush. “What do you mean?”

“Do you understand that you’re no longer friends with these people?”

I shrug and play with loose threads dangling from the edge of my top. I pull some free and roll them into little balls between the pads of my fingertips.

“You’re hindered by your emotions, Ava, but one day, you’ll see that I made the right decision.”

I exhale sharply and drop the threads onto the tile floor. “I’m tired of everyone assuming I’m an emotional mess. I’m not a child. I make decisions based on what’s right, and leaving Liv to die is just plain wrong.”

“You are blinded by your loyalty to them,” Amicia says. “This is why you cannot see the wisdom of my choice not to aid them.”

I shake my head. “You’re wrong. You just