My hairs were on end, my breath hitting hard and erratic, and I didn’t have Ywena to shock me into normalcy. The croak of Mavis’s voice flooded my ears and set my heart racing. My fingers traced the ridges and grooves of the seal.Open alone.What if it was a trick, like the bargain Amalyss and Tasia had played when I’d first arrived? What dangerous thing would I unleash—alone—with no one around to come to my aid? A small piece of wax flaked away as I ran my finger beneath the lip of the fold.
My world winnowed to that space. I was a breath away fromdoing something that couldn’t be undone. I felt that truth in my bones. My gaze drifted back to the portrait. To the happy family that no longer existed.
Be careful who you trust in this place.
It’d been a long time since Vora’s warning had surfaced in my mind, but it did its job. I pulled my finger away from the seal. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, the bedroom door swung inward, and Lydia strolled into the room. Her nightgown was wrinkled, her eyes heavy-lidded. There was a sadness to her expression that I’d never once witnessed, and she seemed to shuffle rather than walk into Mavis’s room.
“Mother, are you awake? I—” Lydia froze when she saw me.
I blinked, and Mavis had shifted. It wasn’t much, just an infinitesimal step in front of me to obscure my hands with her body, but she did it with such speed that it appeared as if she’d always been standing between me and the door. And then her life force seemed to evaporate into the night. A chill swept over me as I stared at the ghostly Ever before me. Her once-probing stare was now lifeless and vacant. Her trembling frame showed none of its former vigor, however fleeting. Her power, her soul, was simply gone.
And it turned my world on its axis. The prickle of the paper against my palm suddenly felt like a blade, and I crossed my hands behind my back to hide them from view.
“What are you doing here?” Lydia asked, her words sharp. She’d regained her composure within the same time Mavis had moved, and all traces of sadness were hidden with the same effectiveness as glamour.
“Mavis’s door was open.” I moved my hand slowly, slipping it beneath the back of my blouse to tuck the envelope in the waistband of my pants. “I thought she might need help.”
Lydia’s eyes narrowed as she looked between Mavis and me. “The only thing she needs is a cure for blight. And until you’vegained access to Orin’s power, I don’t think you’ll be able to provide that.”
“Right.” I came up beside Mavis and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She didn’t react. Not even when I bade her good night and strolled passed Lydia. Once I entered the hall, she slammed the door behind me. I turned away without looking back and walked as quickly as I could to my quarters. Only when I’d locked the doors and checked the latches twice did I dare to extract Mavis’s gift from my waistband.
I rubbed it gently between my fingers, once again studying the scrawl of ink. I trailed my finger over the seal once. And then broke it.
I’d expected a wave of magic, or a sound, or some sort of elaborate spell that would take hold the moment the wax snapped in half. But nothing happened. The only change I noticed was a subtle aroma of leaves that seemed to be infused in the paper.
But as my finger ran along the jagged edge that had initially been folded in, I knew what I was holding—even before I spied the familiar, neat handwriting of my aunt.
My throat tightened as I read her note.
I’ve figured it out. They need everjewels to remain immortal. I’m not sure why, but the blight has weakened their effect. They bury them in their bodies to try to stop the spread. That’s why Orin wants my power. He’s trying to convince me to heartbond with him, because he needs something stronger—and I’m not the first one he’s tried to convince. I’d sooner die than let him take my magic, and I fear that’s coming.
I’ve left this note with Mavis. The others are too closely watched. She’ll give this to you when she believes you can find Orin’s everjewel without raising suspicion. The stone’s power is similar to ours and reacts to our magic. I don’t have enough time left. You must find it anddestroy it. If you need help from someone in the house, you’ll need to break the family’s evervow first. I don’t know much about it, just that it exists. I wish I could tell you more—help you more.
I don’t even know whom I’m writing to, but, Edira, if you’ve found yourself here, know that I love you. I believe in you.
Save yourself.
All sounds dulled to a monotone static, and I dropped the letter.Rowena.A shuddering breath wrenched itself free from my lungs, as a nettling sensation raced over my skin. She chose death over Orin.Death.And even now, beyond the grave, she was trying to save me from that fate.
Find Orin’s everjewel.My heart hammered against my throat as I remembered the sharp, icy kiss I’d felt against my fingers while trailing his tattoo. The whisper of cold that had filled Mavis’s wrist after she’d shoved the stone into her arm.
Panic settled into the marrow of my bones. Everything I’d just agreed to with Orin...
My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes. I thought he’d cared. Pain flared through my chest, spiderwebbing out from my heart, along with a red-hot shame that flooded my limbs. I’dtrustedhim.
I combed through every memory of Orin and me. Every shared moment, every subtle look or reassuring hand squeeze. The brush of his fingers against my cheek, the sound of his warm words, the feel of his lips. I wanted to scream. It couldn’t be true. Rowena had to be wrong.
Save yourself.
I retrieved the note and reread her words. My mind whirled. Even if this was all true, how was I supposed to destroy an everjewel encased within Orin’s body? My lessons with Rorik never could have prepared me for this. What was this familial evervow?And my brothers. Their life-sustaining caskets had been a balm for my aching worry, but now their coffins were unbreakable prisons. Orin was the only one with the key.
I sank to the floor and let out a silent, agonizing shriek. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I wanted—needed—answers, but whom could I trust? Orin had been spinning up stories since the moment he met me. He’d been the creator of our shared narrative, the one who cautiously laid the groundwork for me to fall headfirst into his arms.
Because what did it matter if he threw the town a little more coin? He had plenty to spare.
Keeping my brothers alive? The spell hardly seemed to drain his expansive power.
Every kind action. Every carefully orchestrated moment.
