Nepenthe • Something that can make you forget grief or suffering.
Never feeling like they belonged was a feeling that Lissa Dragomir lived with, even with her family and life long best friend, although they aided in that feeling not being so strong...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The sun hung high over the Spokane sky when the SUV rolled through the snow-packed gates of the resort. The light cut across the trees, sharp and cold, glittering off the frost-covered pines. For the Dhampirs, midday meant movement; for the Moroi within, it was the deepest hour of rest.
The front doors burst open before the engines had even stilled.
Diana was the first out—her short dark braid swinging over one shoulder, Alec strapped snugly to her chest, the baby's small head resting against her collarbone. Her expression was tight, frantic. She scanned every window of the vehicle, eyes wide and wild with worry.
When the doors opened, and Dimitri stepped out, she froze.
He was carrying a body in his arms. Kate's.
Her breath hitched audibly. For a heartbeat, the world around her disappeared—no snow, no Guardians, no team, only the sight of her niece limp figure cradled against Dimitri's chest. She clutched Alec tighter, as though she could shield him from what she feared she was seeing.
But then Dimitri met her gaze and shook his head once—firm, silent. His face was pale and drawn, but there was something in his eyes that wasn't grief this time. Something still raw, but laced with fragile relief.
Diana's knees nearly gave out. She pressed a trembling hand over her mouth, exhaling shakily, her eyes shining.
"Inside," she managed, voice breaking but commanding. "Quickly—take her inside."
The Dhampirs moved at once. The resort's main hall filled with urgent but controlled movement. Eddie, pale and barely upright, was guided by his mother—Guardian Castille's stiffled sniffles breaking the quiet professionalism around them. Mason's mother, Lydia Ashford, rushed from the corner where she'd been helping coordinate, gathering her son against her chest, murmuring his name over and over as he tried weakly to reassure her.
Lissa, Christian, Adrian, Aaron and Mia were led quietly down a side corridor to the feeding rooms, where the feeders waited, despite the fact that Lissa tried to argue and go with Kate. Only to have Janine continue to guide her away.
Only the rhythmic sound of Dimitri's boots against the polished floor broke through the noise as he carried Kate toward the west wing—toward his and her shared quarters. Viktoria trailed close behind, refusing to be sent to the infirmary yet, one hand pressed to the wall for balance, the other clutching the cross around her neck, while Diana, who still had Alec strapped to her chest
As they passed the wide lounge near the staircase, a familiar voice cut through the silence.
"Well," Tasha Ozera said, stepping out from the shadows near the fireplace, her tone smooth but edged. Her eyes flicked over Kate's unconscious form, then to the pale exhaustion of those around her. "Is she dead?"
