Page 133 of Tainted Souls
The children ask about you daily. Saul insists you’re coming home soon, though I can see the doubt growing in his eyes. Seraph still sleeps with the doll you made her, whispering secrets to it as if it might carry them to you.
I know you’re fighting hard for something bigger than us, something that might make their futures possible. But Iselfishly wish you were here to see Seraph take her first steps, to hear Saul babbling little rhymes.
These moments feel incomplete without you.
Penn City’s peace remains ever so strained, and I fear what’s coming. If you can’t return soon, I may have to take the children to Redmoore. Start training them. I’ll wait as long as I can, but their safety must come first.
I love you. Whatever happens, remember that.
We chose each other, and I would choose you again in every lifetime.
Forever yours,
Roman
Tears blur my vision again as I fold the letter gingerly. This wasn’t just a forbidden romance. It was a family torn apart by forces beyond our control. A love story with no happy ending, only sacrifice and loss. I stand, moving to the window where our mother once sat, looking out at the grounds below. Somewhere out there, Cain holds her prisoner, still waiting for someone to bring her home.
I’m unable to still the water in my eyes. “The Ravens weren’t just her rebellion, they were her legacy. Her gift to us. Saul, we have to find her and finish what she started.”
“We will,” Saul promises. “But first, you need to understand what you’re truly fighting for. This can’t be about revenge anymore, Sister.”
“How are the Ravens different from Penn City?” I ask. “What you want, they have already built.”
“You still don’t get it.” Saul sits on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped between his knees. “Everything in Penn City is for show, built to keep vampires just alive enough not to rebel, sothe humans can sleep at night. With the Ravens, it’s not about control, but respect.”
As much as I would like to argue back—and I could—there’s not inherently something wrong with what he’s saying. Perspectives differ, because people choose from their own truths.
Whether I agree isn’t what matters anymore. What matters is who I become in the quiet choices, not the loud words of others.
I look down at the journal in my hands, then at the letters scattered on the bed. Our mother faced her own hardships and chose love over hatred, hope over despair.
She built something lasting in a world determined to tear it down.
And now it’s my turn to choose.
I glance out the window once more, catching a flicker of movement in the garden below. My heart stutters as I recognize the silhouette sitting cross-legged beneath a giant oak tree.
“Max?” I breathe, pressing my palm against the glass.
He’s perfectly still, his back straight, hands resting on his knees in a meditative pose I’ve never seen him adopt before.
“Saul, look,” I say, pointing. “It’s Max. He’s outside.”
My gut knows it isn’t him. Not the real him. It can’t be. But how badly do I want it to be? My chest tightens, the hope growing inside me in a way I cannot shake. I’ve missed him so much, my body almost tricks itself into believing the unreal, the impossible.
CHAPTER 28
SAUL JOINS MEat the window, his expression darkening as he takes in the sight.
A loud, thunderous crash echoes through the mansion, followed by shouts and the sound of breaking glass. The floor beneath us starts to tremble. His head snaps toward the door, his body instantly alert. There’s no surprise in his eyes, only dire resignation.
“We need to move,” he says, grabbing my arm. “Now.”
I don’t question him, but the sight of Max has me stumbling as Saul pulls me toward the door.
There’s another crash, closer this time, followed by screams.
The sound of furniture splintering, bodies slamming against walls, and the wet, meaty thud of flesh being torn intensifies as we emerge in the hallways.
