Devour the Dark (Devourer, #2)

by Nikki St. Crowe

When we reach the grand front entrance, lighted by an oversized caged lantern, I come to a sudden stop. There is a coat of arms carved into the stone above the double doors. My theory, realized. I know that crest. As is traditional for Darkland coat of arms, there’s a knight’s helm at the top, one of the medieval kind with a slit for the eyes, and a giant black plume rising from the crown. Behind the helm is a red and black flourish. Beneath is the shield with the crescent moon and two stars, flanked by the standard two supporting figures: a raven and a skeleton. The family motto is beneath in old darkish: viere magnar, mori melius. Live great, die better. The presence of the coat of arms confirms my earlier suspicions. Winnie catches my hesitation. “You coming?” Vane follows my line of sight and scowls when he sees what I see. “Should we be worried?” I ask. Vane’s scowl deepens. “About what?” “Yeah.” Winnie glances between us. “About what?” “That family crest,” I say, more to her than to Vane, because he clearly knows what it means. “It belongs to the Corbeld family. The matriarchal line of Vane and Roc’s family.” “Your mother?” Winnie echoes and the way Vane tenses up tells us all we need to know. “And after the Lorne family, the Corbelds were next in line for the throne. Making Roc⁠—” Vane is swift, grabbing Winnie first, then me, ushering us into the shadows of the bushes that line the front of the house. “We were stripped of our titles,” he says quickly. “Maybe at one...

I'm sorry. WHAT?! Roc was 5th in LINE?! Would that potentially mean Vane was 6th?