Dom Vadim's Vow Novels & Stories

“I don’t know, Elias.” His voice cracked slightly. “She didn’t say. The boat was leaving. There were Cassano men watching the dock. We didn’t have time to stand there and talk.” He rubbed both hands over his face. “I took the money.” I looked away. “I took it,” he repeated. “And I kept my mouth shut.” “For nineteen years.” “Yes.” “You watched me grow up believing she was dead.” His eyes met mine. “Yes.” “And you said nothing.” “I was afraid.” “You were paid.”

I swallowed hard, my wolf stirring, a low whimper echoing in my mind. “But me?” Vad continued, his voice taking on a chilling softness. “I prefer a more... creative approach. I like to take my time. Dissecting, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but silence.” That was the opposite of the Vad I had seen so far. The chamber fell silent. Even the Deacon’s protests died in his throat, his face pale. “Davina?” Vad said unexpectedly, more a question—tone deceptively casual as his gaze flicked to the young woman in question, then smiling at Deacon I would call cruel. “You remember her, don’t you?”