“We don’t know—” Celine’s voice cracks. “He collapsed by the door an hour ago.”
“I’m out of healing potions,” I say. “But I can contact the witch who sells them to me. She guarantees delivery within twenty-four hours.”
“Thanks, but he’ll be mostly healed by then.” Sighing, Celine pushes the hair out of Malach’s eyes, then faces me. “Where’s Ciprian?”
My mum thinks nothing remains of me but the monster. She’s wrong. I’m sure of that because I’ve been dreading this question with every drop of humanity left in my body.
“He took a portal back to the compound,” I say. The sentence comes out flat, like it means nothing to me, even as the truth tears me apart.
“What?” Luca takes two steps toward me. “Why? Is he okay?”
I loosen the knot of my tie, yanking at it until I can catch my breath. “No. No, he isn’t. Dimitri Casanell was killed tonight.”
Stunned silence greets the announcement.
Thanks to Ciprian, they know about my agreement with Sheena. It’s a silver lining. I have no idea how I would explain if I had to keep everything a secret.
Celine’s wings droop. “Is Sheena okay?”
I nod, relieved to deliver some good news.
Luca strides to the kitchen, drags a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, and offers it to me silently. I unscrew the lid and let the liquor blaze a burning path down my throat.
Celine holds out her hand, and I pass her the bottle. She takes a sip. Her brown eyes are glassy with unshed tears when she hands the whiskey off to Luca. “Do you think he’ll come back?”
She could mean the veydra, but I know she doesn’t. My angel, the woman who carved her name into every inch of my heart, is far too strong to cry over an enemy. And Ciprian Casanell is not our enemy. I fear he never was.
Regret burns me, twice as hot as the liquor. I’ve been too angry and confused to accept what was happening in front of me. I pushed Ciprian away, forced his hand, then stood silently to the side as he lost someone he couldn’t replace.
If he doesn’t come back, it won’t be Celine’s fault, it will be mine.
THIRTY-NINE
Unspoken rule of the Fringes #701:
Sometimes it’s okay to change your mind.
CELINE
The veydra’s rippling features play on repeat in my head. Like a slot machine cycling through symbols—except there’s no luck involved. It lands on my father’s face every time.
I wonder if I’ll ever sleep well again. A shiver rocks me. I pull the blanket up and tuck it under my chin. There’s no relief, though, because this cold has nothing to do with my body and everything to do with my past.
The memory overwhelms me before I can wall it off.
“You humiliated me in front of the otherthatsha.”
“I’m sorry, Father.” I hang my head and curse my wings.
As soon as the meeting devolved into an argument, they turned to blades. Raised voices, the heavy anger of the other rulers... My wings knew what came next. Malach angled his body in front of me, trying to hide my wings from myfather and his friends, but he wasn’t big enough, and the clinking gave me away.
“You lack the discipline to rule.”
Anger simmers in my belly, but my terror keeps it banked. If he knew how mad I was... It isn’t worth imagining what he would do. I clench my hands, dulling my overflowing emotions by digging my nails into my palm until the pain drowns everything else out.
Father’s cold eyes, the rigid tension in his jaw... There’s nothing I can say to fix this.
Defeated, my shoulders dip. I’m old enough now to know my wings are his excuse. He’s going to hurt me no matter what because the council meeting didn’t go his way. The injustice makes me reckless.
