Faith is knowledge within the heart, beyond the reach of proof. - Kahlil Gibran
Sitting on the edge of the bed in the infirmary, I try to sort through the information I just learned. But confused eats away at me, leaving a void in its wake.
How can I be part of the old caste bloodline, the House of Oren, if I'm human? It makes little sense. I must ask Enoch the next time I see him.
I rise to my feet and make my way to the bathroom on shaky legs. My hands grip the faucet handles and turn them halfway until a steady stream flows. When the water warms, I splash my face, relishing the warmth against my cool skin.
A rap on the open door makes me jump. Spinning around on the balls of my feet, I come face to face with Vlad. Our eyes lock, and I grip the sink for support.
My gaze drifts to his high cheekbones and mouth, which have the faint signs of bruising beginning to emerge. Raising a hand, I brush the skin under his mouth.