Faire
CLAIRE
The sheep’s horn relic Cora had given me sat on the vanity beside my ink and parchment. Even sitting still, it throbbed with latent demonic power. The poison of hate that still ran in my veins told me I should smash it. That I was an abomination for considering to use it.
I fought back against it and dipped the quill, the scratch of ink on parchment loud against the hush of the room. My hand shook, though whether from exhaustion or fear, I couldn’t be sure.
Dearest Sera,
I’m learning that strength doesn’t always look like moon magick. Sometimes it looks like surviving when the world tries to end you. Sometimes it looks like writing this letter and trusting you’ll forgive me for never being the sister you deserved.
In the time I’ve been away from home, I’ve learned many things about the world. And I can say that the hate we grew up with isn’t shared by everyone.
I paused to glance into the mirror. The girl who stared back at me, with her red hair, still surprised me. I could onlyimagine what my sister would think of me now. I gave the barest shake of my head and continued.
If you ever think to leave, know that you’ll always have a place here at Château Rose.
Things are changing faster than I can keep up with, but one thing has not changed and never will: my vow to you. I will keep you safe, whatever it costs me. Even if I can’t walk beside you, I’ll find a way to make this world safer for you.
With all my love.
I signed my name and folded the parchment, tying it with black thread before slipping it into the raven’s satchel. Beside it, I tucked my small coin pouch—my earnings as his sanguine partner for the month. Enough to help Sera if she decided to run. Enough, I hoped, to prove I was still thinking of her.
The black raven clacked its beak as I fastened the pouch to its foot. My chest tightened.
The white wolf whined and stepped in front of me, her golden eyes flashing with something like warning. She nudged the satchel, as if begging me not to send it.
“I have to,” I whispered, stroking her thick ruff. “She has to know.”
The wolf pressed closer, trying once more to block my way, but the brown wolf growled low, as if reminding her of her place. I lifted my hand, and the raven spread its wings. With one strong beat, it vanished into the night beyond.
The fire cracked. My shoulders sagged. Both wolves settled at my feet, one watchful, the other restless. I retrieved the relic and held it to my chest, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
Cora had told me to charge my powers and learn the ways of dark magick, but something inside me was resisting it. I’d struggled to truly connect with it in the graveyard.
A familiar presence filled the chamberbefore I even looked up.
Bastien.
“Claire?”
The sound of my name, spoken so softly, unraveled something in me.
His stride cut through the shadows, his pale eyes catching firelight as they found mine. I couldn’t look away from his face. The intensity of what lay between us—love, devotion, duty—was stronger than anything I’d ever felt. Stronger, and so much more dangerous.
“I’ve sent word to Marius, explaining what transpired at the Kemps, and my desire to lead an investigation about werewolves. I wish we had more time to rest, but time is not on our side. Not with the way things are moving.”
I nodded, though my hand tightened around the sheep’s horn like it could somehow solve our problems, but the tension in his posture told me there was more. “Something else is on your mind.”
He let out a long breath, and slowly closed the distance between us. “I believe there’s someone in the Lawless Lands who can help you. Someone who can remove the cursed choker and free you from its bind.”
The words should have filled me with hope. Instead, dread coiled in my chest. Only a Prideaux could break the choker’s curse. If this witch told him as much and he finally found out the truth, he’d know I was the enemy all along. That I’d been lying since the moment we met. And I would lose him.
“I don’t know, Bastien.”
He stepped closer, his hands gently circling my waist. “Do you trust me?”
The truth that came out was the one that had been burning on my tongue all along. “Yes. Of course I trust you.”
He pulled me against his chest, grounding me. But beneath the gentleness of his touch, I swore I felt the phantom pinch ofbarbs around my throat. I knew now that Mama was just as bad as Hera. If I was going to protect Sera—if I was going to protect him—I had to break free of this curse on my life.
Bastien’s voice drew me back. “I swear on my life, I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
