Selma turned to Jorek. “If you need fighters, you can’t afford to be picky.”
“TheWardensaren’t taking women,” Jorek kept his eyes on the map, as if the conversation was already over.
“Why not?” Selma pressed, slamming her hand on the map, her glare locked on him.
“Because if we lose,” he finally met her eyes. ”The Vultures won’tjustkill you.”
The room went still again, and I felt bile rise to my throat. He wasn’t wrong. Women weren’tjustkilled in war; it was worse than that. Ifwelost, we wouldn’t get the mercy of a quick death.
Will raised his voice, “We’re doing this to protect you. That’s the whole point—”
Selma spun toward him. “I don’t need you to protect me,” she snapped.
Across the room, Idalie shifted her weight, fingers fiddling with the hem of her skirt. “What if someone panics?” she said. “What if they tell?”
“Then they won’t live long enough to regret it,” Aran said, slouched against the wall with his arms crossed.
That got attention.
A boy near the stairs scoffed. “Real comforting. We killing each other now?”
“Shut up, Vidar,” someone muttered from the shadows.
Vidar stepped forward, eyes bloodshot, mouth twisted into a sneer. “No, seriously, let’s talk. Because apparently I need to worry about gettingstabbed in my sleep now?”
“Better that than watching your dumb ass ruin everything.” Eryx added.
“You want comfort?” another voice snapped from the back. “Go home to your mommy.”
“Idon’thave one,” Vidar shot back, his face flushed. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Nora hissed. “Gods, you’re exhausting.”
The room exploded.
Not literally, but it felt like it. Words collided like fists, louder, faster, sharper. People weren’t speaking anymore—they were shouting over each other, through each other. I pressed back into the wall like I could phase through it, like I could disappear if I just stayed still enough.
“Everyone just SHUT UP!”
I didn’t even know who screamed it. The voices all bled together. Screaming. Sobbing. Mocking. I couldn’t breathe. The noise pulsed through my skull like waves. My lungs felt too small for my ribs.
“I need air,” I choked out, forcing my way through the press of limbs and heat, my eyes locked on the back door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The fresh air was a lifeline. I hadn’t been able to really process any of what had just happened. All the new information. Them asking me for help? I needed to think. To just exhale and fill my lungs with something that wasn’t hot and suffocating. I could still hear them through the walls, the raised voices, the arguments. Not only was I going to lose the boys, I was going to have to lie to Mrs. Holt. I was going to have to keep secrets from my parents. From Einar.
They’d pulled me into a war I never saw coming.
My hands were shaking, so I held onto the railing, trying to anchor myself in something real. Breathe in. Breathe out. I just needed a moment.
That’s when I saw it. The shed stood tucked into the weeds at the edge of the yard, slumped against the back fence. It looked exactly the way I remembered, with ivy climbing up the sides. It wasn’t locked, soI pushed the door open, and when I saw the paintings scattered across the floor, it all came back to me.
The day Licia brought me there the first time.
The day shelet me in.
It was right after the accident at the lake, she’d showed up at my house, unannounced, eyes a little too wide, and said that she wanted to show me something. As we walked to her house, she rambled on about everything.
