Page 144 of The Fallen Fae King

He is limping, favoring his right leg. He is being supported by a female vampire.

She is a couple of years older than him, in her thirties. She is also taller with broad shoulders.

She looks like a true fighter.

Her glossy black hair is pulled tightly into braids with purple ribbons. Her focused, gray eyes settle on me, widening and then assessing.

Neither of them is Lazarus.

In fact, they are both Betas.

Disappointed, I slump against the wall again.

Wraith meets my eye, scanning my injuries. For a moment, she appears concerned and as if she is going to say something. But then, she slams and locks the door.

She struts away toward the steps, taking the oil lamp with her. “Learn from them. If you won’t break, then it has been decided that you will fight in the Sun Arena.”

“Laz!” The male vampire attempts to struggle out of his companion’s hold, but she doesn’t let him go.

“It’s not him.” Her voice is flat. “It’s the other one.”

I force myself not to react.

The male vampire stops struggling, clinging to the female vampire.

He scrutinizes me, before his expression crumples. “Yara…I thought…”

He lets out a sob, pushing away from her. Then his eyes roll back, and he collapses to the floor with a crack.

I watch dispassionately, as his friend rushes to his side, dragging him up to rest with his back against the wall opposite me.

I pull myself with a groan into my corner again, watching these new Bloods. I clutch onto my crown in case they try to take it from me.

It also makes the best weapon in this cell.

I don’t say anything.

“Fool, Ahm.” Yara rips off one of the strips of leather that hang around the waist on her uniform and binds it around the seeping wound on his thigh. “What would your Alpha think if he saw you not taking care of yourself like this?”

“He’d kiss me, Yara,” Ahm says in a voice that is as sweet as date wine, licking his dry lips. “Then tell me one of his favorite stories to distract me from the pain, probably about lotuses or fish.”

Yara puts pressure on the wound. “Or his brother. He never stopped talking about his twin. Clearly, they are nothing alike though. You’re truly not Laz, are you?”

I blink. “Why?”

How do they know my brother so well? Lazarus is good; I’m not. But I haven’t even said anything yet.

Yara cocks her head. “I don’t know how you’re here. Laz will be⁠—”

“So happy.” Ahm smiles at me, and something in his sunniness reminds me of Daire. I find myself smiling back. Does this mean that my brother is truly alive? I should have known that Void Devil was lying. “Oh, my heart, they have been putting you through it. Look at all your bruises. I recognize Taran’s handiwork. I would have said Vicious’ before that bitch died, but he learned his methods from her.”

I shrug. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re the tough one, huh?” Yara bares her fangs. “That’s normally me. And the reason I knew that you weren’t Laz is that if he’d seen any vampire wounded, he’d have rushed to help them, not sat there like it had nothing to do with him. When Laz was first brought to this dungeon, despite his fear and distress, he was always the first to offer kind words, support, and hope.” Ahm and Yara exchange soft smiles. “Also, if it had been his beloved who was hurt, then he would have been distraught. He always was.”

My breath catches. “You are my brother’s Beta nestmates.”

Ahm nods, shyly.