Tasia leaned indolently against the window and stared at the passing trees. “We burned them to keep the blight from spreading.”
Her nonchalance set fire to my bones, and I pressed my lips together to keep myself from screaming. I wanted to lunge across the cabin and smack the bored look from her expression. I’d been stripped of everything. My family. My home. My brothers were dying a slow, horrid death. I’d likely never see Willowfell again or the intricate flowered arch carved around our door. I didn’t mind dying with the memory of those things, as I knew I couldn’t hold on to them forever. But my mother I’d wanted to carry with me until the end. Until my magic gave out and I succumbed to death, saying goodbye to the short, cursed life I’d lived as a threadmender.
And now that had been ripped from me, too.
“Oh, look, we’ve upset her.” Amalyss studied my face. And then she laughed. “You’re so easily wounded.”
Tasia shifted her focus back to me. “Imagine how she’ll react when we’re forced to burn her brothers, too.”
At that I snapped. I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself. I lunged toward her and cracked my palm against the soft skin of her cheek. An angry red welt bloomed across her blemish-free skin. Wide-eyed, she stared at me for the span of three breaths before reacting. And then she was on me, tackling me against the tufted bench to rake her pointed nails along the exposed skin of my neck and arms with the fury of a savage cat. Amalyss shrieked wordlessly, joining the hissing mess of limbs and fangs as we clawed at one another. I didn’t know what I wanted to accomplish, just that the act of simply forgetting everything—the devastating sight of Noam and Nohr withering beneath my touch, the deal with Orin, the loss of my home—and giving in to anger was something akin to bliss. They ripped into my skin, slapped, bit, kicked, punched, until we tumbled into the door, and it sprung open, depositing us onto uneven ground.
The force of the hit thrust us apart as the carriage stopped, and I sprawled on my back to stare up at the dusk sky. The ground beneath my shoulders was uneven and damp, and the scent of wet dirt filled my nose. But before I could process anything else, Amalyss and Tasia pinned me in place. They jammed their knees into my shoulders, and a sharp cry scraped my throat as tears pricked my eyes.
Tasia lowered her face to mine, her pointed teeth barred and glistening. “Don’t forget who you work for.”
“Orin isn’t the only one with power,” Amalyss said. A surge of magic seemed to flow from the earth itself straight into their bodies, and their eyes glowed with the nocturnal sheen of wild animals. Everything about their features sharpened. Luminous feathers, like those of a hummingbird, pushed through their skin toline their cheekbones and temples, and Amalyss parted her lips to give her quickly elongating fangs extra room. The hairs on my neck stood on end as a crackling, electric sensation rippled over me.
“You need me,” I sneered, ignoring the arcing pain lancing through my arms and the fear threading through my gut.
“You’re wrong.” Tasia’s smile was a warning. “We could find another like you.”
Before I could come up with some witty response, two strong hands drove into the collars of their blouses. They were yanked away in one fell swoop and tossed to the side with the ease of empty sacks. Still, Amalyss and Tasia were on their feet almost as soon as their backs cracked into the earth, and they rounded on the man standing over me.
“We were just playing,” Amalyss whined. I was struck by the sudden childish tone to her voice, as if this had all been some minor misunderstanding that deserved nothing more than a slap on the wrist. The heady magic rolling off their bodies dissipated, along with the pregnant, suffocating swell of static.
“Besides, she started it,” Tasia added.
“And I’m finishing it. Take the carriage back to the stalls,now,” he said. He didn’t bother glancing my direction, but that didn’t mean I could drag my gaze away from him.
For fuck’s sake.Textured, russet-colored hair fell across his forehead, teasing the tops of thick, angular brows in the same shade. Onyx dermal piercings, two above his left brow, stood out against his skin. He had a broad nose and wide, full lips that were downturned slightly at the corners, and I couldn’t help but wonder what they looked like when he smiled. The amber hue of his eyes was closer to gold, but there was nothing warm about his expression. If anything, he seemed bored.
“Why? You were doing a fine job driving us.” Tasia placed her hands on her hips.
The man took one step toward her, and she cowered. “Because you both just landed stall duty.”
Tasia’s mouth fell open. “Rorik, that’s not fair!”
“We never clean stalls. We have farmhands for that,” Amalyss practically begged.
“Now,” he growled, gesturing to the carriage. I glanced past his hand to see the glossy black cabin was being drawn by two stags with ivy-laden antlers, glowing pale eyes, and mossy coats dotted with flowers. They exhaled forcefully, and mist curled upward from their wet nostrils.
Amalyss and Tasia turned on their heels, their gaits violent and rough. The carriage shuddered as they slammed the door closed and climbed up together to nestle onto the driver’s seat. Once Tasia gripped the reins, Rorik sucked his teeth in a soft sound that spurred the stags back into motion.
“Are you going to get up?” He didn’t offer his hand, instead opting to fold his arms across his chest as he finally looked at me. The action pulled his slate-gray shirt tight against his frame, and I trailed the line of his corded neck up to his clenched jaw.
“Yeah.” I pulled myself to my feet, eyeing the retreating carriage as it followed a bend in the dirt road. “Thanks for that.”
“You’d do well to avoid them.” He turned without waiting to see if I’d follow and strolled down the path with languid ease. I hurried to keep pace, each of his long strides eating up the same distance as two of my own.
“I highly doubt that’s possible,” I muttered. The evening sky was quickly fading from lilac to indigo, and the long shadows of tall pines and spruce trees were already intermingling to shade the earth. A cool breeze rustled the underbrush and fallen leaves, and I rubbed my hands along my arms to spark warmth.
“Even so,” Rorik said, bringing my focus back to him as we followed the same bend as the carriage, “avoid everyone from thisfamily if you can.” A muscle strained against his neck, but he kept his voice and gaze level.
I couldn’t help but scoff. “You do know why I’m here, right?”
He paused and gave me the full weight of his molten stare. Then he grimaced. “You’re here to fail at curing blight and then die. Only the gods know how long that will take.”
I stumbled to a halt, frozen by his words. He regarded me for a long moment, searching for something—a weakness—and then he pursed his lips. Straightening his back, he jerked his thumb in the direction of the worn road.
