It felt like…goodbye.
As August pulled away and stepped toward the entrance of the tent, Wren felt the way he nervously drummed his fingers against her waist, the tension in his muscles. She wanted to offer him some semblance of comfort, but truthfully, she was just as nervous as he was. This was their last opportunity to make it out. They’d either manage to escape—or they’d lose each other forever.
“With me?” August’s voice gently tugged Wren back to the present.
Wren laced her hand through his.
“Always.”
And then the two of them inhaled a sharp breath and walked through the tent.
Wren hadn’t known what to expect upon entering the Equinox Gathering, but it definitely hadn’t beenthis.
A deep crimson fog perfused the spacious cavern, instantlydulling Wren’s senses. Warm light spilled from lanterns strung across the sheer walls of the cave, enchanted string lights glittering like a blanket of stars. At the center of the cavern, bursting from a large black cauldron, roared a fire. The flames crackled with some sort of enchantment, the embers dancing as though caught within an invisible current. A deep, resounding drum echoed in the air, the pounding beat pulsating inside Wren. It was as though her body was drawn to the music, her muscles itching to move along to the drum’s rhythm.
The Demiens bustling around the cavern glided in an almost euphoric daze. They all wore gowns and suits as ostentatious as the one Wren had awoken in—a sea of bloodred, royal purple, glistening emerald and ice blue—rich, silky fabrics ebbing and flowing against the darkness of night. Their eyes glistened with hunger. Raucous laugher dripped from their wicked smiles. A few of them carried brass goblets with various glittering liquids bubbling inside, shimmering clouds emanating from the goblets and drifting into the air. They were strange elixirs Wren had never seen before. But whatever they were drinking was clearly having some sort of inebriating effect on their minds. Those carrying the goblets seemed even more intoxicated than the others, a sluggish sway to their movements, a haze draped behind their eyes.
“All the new recruits are forced to drink the elixirs,” August explained into her ear as he guided her forward. “It dulls their senses. Makes them more pliable. That way…if there are any who have last-minute hesitation about casting the Reaper’s Kiss…” His voice trailed away, but Wren understood.
“They can’t fight back.”
August nodded, swallowing.
“We should keep you out of sight,” he muttered. “Last thingwe need is Edith spotting you and forcing you to—” But they were too late. A voice cut through August’s words. A presence looming behind them.
“Hello, little brother.”
They turned and came face to face with Edith Hughes. She swished a goblet in her hands, the deep red liquid sloshing at the edges. Sparkling wisps curled at the elixir’s surface, drifting around the goblet in a perfect halo. Edith wore a midnight-blue dress with chain-mail spaulders cascading over her shoulders and down her arms, her shadow crown glinting in the darkness, even more ornate than usual.
“Thank you for escorting our precious catalyst,” she said through a piercing smile.
August stiffened beside Wren. His voice was rough and unfeeling as he responded, “Just doing my job.”
Edith rolled her eyes with a chuckle. She turned her attention to Wren, extending the goblet in her direction. “Go on.” She gestured to the goblet with a tilt of her chin. “Drink.”
Wren’s heart sank. Her eyes darted to August for a moment, but his gaze was firmly planted on Edith, not an inkling of emotion to be seen on his face. Wren couldn’t drink the elixir. Not now. What if she lost herself to the intoxicating properties before she could make a run for it? What if she couldn’t follow through with the plan?
Wren gave an indignant shake of her head. “I don’t want to. I’m not a new recruit—”
“Listen, Wren.” Edith cut her off with a sigh, stepping closer. The goblet brushed Wren’s chest. “You can willingly drink it yourself, while still having control of your body, or I can force you to. The decision is yours.”
Wren knew what Edith wanted. It was what all the otherDemiens wanted. They wanted Wren weak. Malleable. Nothing but a plaything to be tossed around and to do their bidding. They wanted herafraid.
But Wren was done being afraid.
Before she could second-guess herself, Wren wrapped her hand tightly around the goblet, gaze locked with Edith’s, and chugged back one swift gulp.
The moment the liquid touched the back of her throat, a disorienting wave of vertigo flooded her body. Her mind grew hazy. Her chest warm. When she blinked, the world around her stuttered, as if her vision was lagging, a disconnect between her eyes and her mind. She swayed, losing her footing.
She’d expected August to catch her. To feel his strong hands against her waist.
But it wasn’t August who reached her first.
Edith’s hands gripped Wren by the shoulders, holding her steady. Wren’s vision blurred and refocused. She fought to keep her eyelids open, and when she finally managed to lock her gaze on Edith, she noticed the shadows blotting out the whites of the High General’s eyes. The sinister smile cracking her face in half.
“Welcome to Equinox, catalyst.” Edith laughed and a euphoric haze draped itself around Wren. “It’s time to have a bit of fun.”
30
