He held Esme, hand clamped over her mouth. The forest blurred, shadows consuming the pines. All I saw was the blade at her throat, poised to shatter everything I fought to protect.
Her eyes, wide and shimmering with tears, begged me to do something. Trust lingered in her gaze—fragile, undeserved trust. She thinks I can still save her. Gods, she doesn’t see the failure standing before her.
All my training, all my promises to protect Esme—useless. I was just a scared girl fighting against a man who knew my greatest weakness.
“Fuck you,” I gritted, forcing steel into my voice. “She’s only fifteen. Let her go, and I might let you live.” My heart thundered, every beat a reminder of how close I was to losing her. My dagger felt useless, its weight mocking my lack of choices.
The man tilted his head. “You’re just like him, aren’t you? Sadly, much smaller, though.”
Like him?
“Who are you?” I demanded.
He extended a sealed scroll. “Deliver this to your father. Remind him that shadows always follow. That his sins have found him.”
I went rigid.
How did he find us?
“My father?”
The shadows of his hood were impenetrable.
“Yes, Seren, daughter of Brogan Ragnall.”
I didn’t respond. That knowledge meant my entire family was in imminent danger. “Let my sister go,” I managed. “Whatever quarrel you have with my father, she has nothing to do with it.”
“True, but as you said, she’s just fifteen and much less trouble than you.”
The hilt of his sword slammed against the side of my head, a sickening crunch reverberating through my skull.
“Seren!”
Esme’s scream ripped through the dark, jagged and raw, as the world tilted violently. My vision blurred, the ground rushing up to meet me. Cold. Unyielding. Pain splintered through my skull, but it was nothing compared to the wildfire of helplessness burning inside me.
I failed her.
I failed them all.
Chapter 2
Seren
“You’re not going, Seren.” The strain in Father’s voice was unusual, and I almost paused while shoving one of my mother’s old books into my pack.
I didn’t though—didn’t slow down.
Wrapping a whetstone in a cloth, I settled on my bedroll. “If you give me that line about this not being a place for women again?—”
“It’s not.” Father sat and set his callused hand on mine. “Trust me. Gods, it’s hardly a trip for men. Liriens will kill any Viori man on sight. But a woman, especially one your size …”
I glared at him. “Which is precisely why I should go. I’m the one who failed Esme. I live with the sound of her screams in my dreams. Me. And you want me to sit idly and let you pay the price for my failure? That’s bullshit.”
Haunting sadness pooled in my father’s eyes. “It’s my duty to protect my children.”
“Then why are you allowing Madoc to go?”
Across the tent, sitting in front of the small stove, Madoc raised a scarred brow at me. He continued sharpening a knife, his brown-eyed gaze wary. Only Esme had inherited my father’s green eyes. The rest of us had Mother’s dark ones.
