“No.” I shook my head. “If Jason loved me, he would’ve known how that would kill me inside.”

“He had no choice, Amara. The only power he had in all of this was to erase it from your mind after—make you forget.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to; I don’t expect you to.” He sat me up from his embrace. “But just know—Jason only hurt you because if it had been another, it would have been worse. He couldn’t save you, he didn’t have the physicality. He literally—” Arthur moved his head to emphasize his word, “—cannot disobey a blood oath. He tried to escape with you, but the king got to him—called him, ordered him to return.”

“No. That’s crap. Jason planned all along to turn me in. He told me. He said the masquerade was just a test—to see if I’d die.”

Arthur covered his mouth and coughed out a laugh. “I’m sorry, I should not laugh, it’s just—the memory.” He laughed again and stifled it quickly.

“What memory is it you find so amusing?” I swallowed a lump of humiliation.

“Not that you were hurt, my dear, only the look on my son’s face when he came to me after that ball, covered in blood—your blood—regret and horror his own mask.”

“Regret?”

“Yes. I will never forget the look in his eye. I embraced him, and when he told me what happened, it was I who noted what you are—not Jason.” Arthur looked down. “From that moment on, your life was in danger. Jason spent this last year fighting to keep you a secret—redirecting the Blood Warriors’ advances on you and David.”

“But, he told me, when he kidnapped me, that he only befriended me to study me, biding his time until David returned, so he could have him killed.”

Arthur smiled again. “If he told you the truth then, the Council would’ve known he planned to keep you a secret. He would have been arrested and tried along with you and David, and your torture would have been executed by who knows what kind of monster.”

With my mouth wide, I traced the corner of my eye where Jason cut me, remembering the heat of the torch.

“Do you understand?” Arthur pulled my hand gently away from my eye and stared right into them; “To save his own life, only for the purpose of carrying out your torture if his plan to take you away failed, he told them he was investigating you—that he had been unclear up until now.”

“The camera?” I said. “He didn’t burn my eye—he checked over his shoulder before he threw the torch.”

“Did he?”

“Yes.” I stared, bewildered.

“Smart boy. His manner of evading those tests was genius.” He laughed again. “Mind, you nearly ruined his plan when you so heartbreakingly cried for how he said he loved you. I know the king was convinced enough to stop talking mid-sentence and watch.”

“Oh, my God.” I covered my mouth, my weak arms flooding with blood. “So, it really was because of the blood oath?”

“Yes.”

“Then…if he hadn’t answered that call—in the car…?”

“He would never have done that to you. He had no qualms about turning his brother in and keeping you for himself, but the way he hurt you, after he fell in love with you, was only to protect you from much, much worse.”

“Did David ever make one? A blood oath?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“He was never one to risk what he may feel in the future for what he wanted in the present. Until he met you, of course, then lost his mind and did the stupidest thing he’s ever done.”

“Leaving the Set.”

“No.” Arthur sat back. “Going to that Blood Rave, of all places. I wish I could show you—I wish I had my nephew’s power to show you what occurred to result in this outcome. If you need to blame someone, my dear, it should not be Jason. David went to that Rave—exposed himself, and you. After that, there was little Jason, or myself, could do to keep you safe.”

“He was so cruel though, Arthur. How could Jason love me, and yet be so cruel?”

“He carried out the action that was listed on the form by Drake.” Arthur shook his head, his blue eyes flooding like pools of sympathy. “One day I will find a way to make you understand.”

“Did he tell you—” I bit my lip to stop it from quivering, “—that he spirit bound me?”

“I heard, yes. I was not present in the chamber when he announced it, but word has a way of spreading.”

“So, you didn’t see? You weren’t there when David…?”

“I was granted the mercy of absence for that. However, I fail to understand this bind.” His brow pulled over one eye. “You’re Lilithian, how could—”

“He bound me while I was human—came to me in a dream.”

Arthur took my hand, extending his other one to lift my chin; “Was it—consensual?”

“Yes.” I nodded as tears spilled over my pouting lip; “But he posed as another in the dream.”

“Who?”

“Mike.”

Arthur nodded. “Hm.”

I looked down.

“Then, perhaps you will understand, through your own suffering for the love you will eternally feel for someone who is dead, that your existence is ever more important.”

“How so?”

“Until you came along, any vampire who bound them-selves to a human, had to kill that human.”

“Why?”

“Because the spirit bind is eternal, unless the vampire of which inflicted it either changes the human, or dies by the hand of the affected. The act of murder against one you so strongly love shatters the soul, and so, the bind dies with the vampire.”

“How can I change that?”

“Well, with the gift of your venom, vampires may once again choose death, instead of killing the human. In many cases, the pair have been in love, just like you were with my son, and the pain of either separation or death has caused much anguish.”

“If David had bound me to him, is that what would’ve happened with us?”

“If you were not approved for the Change, yes.”

Pieces of my life puzzle slipped across an imaginary table and fit together before my eyes. “Doesn’t sound like it’s been a whole lot of fun living as a vampire these past thousand or so years.”