Chapter 2

Lily ran out wrapped in Noah's cloak. "Eve, don't be reckless. Noah's just upset right now. Apologize, and he'll forgive you."

My eyes went to the cloak on her shoulders. I'd sewn the inner clasp of it for Noah's coming-of-age. He'd called it clumsy but wore it anyway. It looked right on Lily now, and it had finally reached someone Noah wanted to protect.

I said, "I don't need him to forgive me."

Lily's tears spilled over. "But if you marry into the Crimson Keep, you'll die."

As she said it, her eyes eased for half a second, but I still noticed it. She'd been exactly like this in my previous life, begging me with her mouth to stay while her hands closed the carriage door for me.

The word "die" made Noah's face sink further. "Evelyn, I'm asking you one last time. Will you admit you were wrong about the silver knife?"

Rain slid down my lashes, and suddenly I remembered the knife. A tiny crescent moon carved into the hilt.

My mother gave it to me when I was ten. The night I saved Noah, I used it to pry open the wolf trap, my fingers crushed to raw meat.

Later, Lily turned up holding the knife and claimed she was the one who saved him.

Noah asked why the knife was in her hands. I had no answer. I'd passed out, and by the time I woke, it was gone. The truth is sometimes just ugly.

I said, "I won't."

Noah's gaze turned cold. "Then go to the Crimson Keep."

"Fine." I bent and climbed into the carriage.

Right before the door shut, I heard Lily let out a quiet breath of relief.

Peter sat across from me as the carriage rolled out of Moonvale, and he held out a black velvet handkerchief. "My lady, your hand is bleeding."

I looked down. The spot where the silver needle had pricked me was still seeping blood.

In my previous life I'd cried in this carriage until dawn. Not this time. I took the handkerchief. "Did the duke really kill three fiancées?"

Peter paused. "No."

"Then what happened to them?"

"One ran from the wedding, one stole from the blood cellar, and one tried to poison him." His tone stayed flat. "They're all alive, and they just paid for what they did."

I watched Moonvale shrink into the distance beyond the window, and it struck me that the rumors about vampires were at least more honest than the ones about werewolves.

*****

The Crimson Keep wasn't as cold as I'd pictured it.

When the doors opened, the fire in the hearth was blazing. The black stone floor had been scrubbed clean, and a faint scent of cedar and blood orange hung in the air.

Victor stood at the top of the stairs in a black shirt, cuffs rolled to the wrists, his pale, slender hands bare. His eyes were the faintest red.

He wasn't the bloodthirsty lunatic of the rumors. He looked more like someone just roused from sleep.

He glanced at me. "You signed it yourself?"

I nodded. "I did."

"No one forced you?"

The question caught me off guard. Everyone had forced me on the night of the bride swap, and yet he was only asking about the blood oath.

I said, "I signed it myself."

Victor came down the stairs. He stopped two steps away and didn't touch me. "A Crimson Keep marriage has three terms. First, you keep your name. Second, separate rooms. Third, if you regret it in a month, I'll break the blood oath myself."

I looked up at him. None of this had happened in my previous life. Back then, I'd arrived weeping and dazed while Peter read out every term, and all I remembered was being shut in the west tower, shivering the whole night through.

Later, when disaster struck the keep, Noah brought the pack for a reckoning. Caught between both sides, I died in the snow.

Back then I'd believed the Crimson Keep destroyed me. Now I knew it was never the vampire I'd just met. It was my family who refused to believe me, no matter how many times I explained.

Victor set a thin sheaf of terms in front of me. "Read it before you sign."

I turned the pages. Every term was spelled out plainly. There was no clause about obeying your husband, none about becoming property of the Crimson Keep.

The last one even stated that neither side could force the other to prove themselves in the name of a rescue, a betrothal, or family interests.

As my fingertip paused on the page, Victor asked, "Something wrong?"

"This one."

"Too vague?"

"Too good."

A faint smile touched his lips. "The Crimson Keep has no taste for quarrels. If a thing can be put in writing, don't try to settle it with tears."

After I signed it, Peter led me to my room, and it wasn't in the west tower. It was a bedroom on the second floor, facing east, with a view of the black rose garden glistening after the rain.

By the bed sat warm water, a set of clean nightclothes, and a small box of salve, which came with an unsigned note. "For silver wounds. Apply a thin layer."

I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time. In my previous life I'd always believed I was being pushed into the dark. This time, the first thing the dark brought me was medicine.