August had no way of knowing if it would work—if there was even anything left linking them together—but he had to try. Back at Blackwood, he’d been able to sense Wren’s presence after placing the sliver of his soul inside her, but once Edith had blocked Wren’s magic, that connection had fizzled away. But he hadn’t tried since Wren had welcomed the Soulless One inside her.
As August sprinted into the main foyer of Elysium Hall, he dipped into his connection with Wren and prayed it would be enough.
Wren. Darling, please. Where are you?
At first…only silence. Deep, bottomless silence. But then—almost like a phantom touch reaching out for him—he felt her. The faintest call. An echo of an echo. It wasn’t her voice, but…it wassomething.
Hidden beneath the darkness. Clawing its way to the surface.
There.
August’s eyes shot open.
He’d found her.
47
WREN
The monster that Wren Loughty had become entered Headmaster Silas’s office. With each step forward, the old wood beneath her feet blackened and decayed, leaving a river of rot in her wake. But Silas didn’t stir. He remained glued behind his desk, watching.
Nestled in his hand was a box.
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” His voice carried in the silence. He set the box down on the desk and the darkness inside Wren purred. But before she could reach out and claim it, Silas snatched it back. He stood up, slowly, his eyes never once leaving Wren. There was something blazing in his dark brown eyes. A faint, almost nonexistent part of Wren recognized it. Understood it. But this thing she had become—this parasitic monster—paid it no mind.
“Hand it over.”
When Wren spoke, it was her voice and the Soulless One’s twined together. A distorted rasp that shook the walls of the office with an unseen force. Silas stared at her, examining her with thatlook—that foul, pathetic look. What was it that was lurking behind his eyes? She knew the word, deep down. And yet…
Silas made his way around the desk. The words he spoke next burned her from the inside out.
“What has he done to you?”
Wren cocked her head. When she laughed, the windows rattled.
“The Soulless One didn’t do anything. It wasyouwho made me this way. Your corruption. Your betrayal.”
“Has he sowed his soul so deep into yours that you can no longer see reason?”
“Howdareyou?”Wren spat out. Her shadows billowed out of her, twisting in the air from all directions.
“No…” Silas muttered, shaking his head. If he was at all concerned by the display of power in front of him, he gave no indication. “You’re right. I am no saint, Wren Loughty. I am far from it. I am a sick man drowning in power. I take, and take, andtake—and yet…it’s not enough. It will never be enough.” His voice cracked and he inched closer. “Tell me. If you destroy Blackwood…what will grow in its place? More destruction? More chaos?”
“Something pure,”Wren replied without hesitation.“Something cleansed of your corruption.”
Silas tilted his head.
“You don’t truly believe that…do you, Wren?”
The Soulless One’s voice bellowed inside her.
BRING IT TO ME.
“Wren.” Headmaster Silas extended a pleading hand. “Look atme.”
But Wren couldn’t tear her eyes away from hisotherhand. From the box clutched in his palm. It called to her. It belonged to her. It belonged tothem. Silas must have sensed that she was beyond reason. That no amount of pleading and placating would change what Wren had set out to do.
“I saw potential in you…was that so wrong?”
