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Cold sweat breaks out on my palms and my breath comes so fast my head might float off my body, but I do my best to drag myself toward the window.

I have to get out, get away from her, and then I can worry about the frozen feeling creeping through my ruined flesh and try to remember if there’s anything to be done about harpy poison.

A man shouts from the doorway, and for a second, I fear it’s Declan racing back into danger to save me, but the voice is too deep. I glance over my shoulder to see a broad-shouldered stranger slamming a cast iron pan down on Mother’s head.

No, not a stranger…

It’s Adrina’s father—his long, unkempt hair is still wild around his shoulders, but he stands tall and strong. And then, behind him is another familiar face, his reddish-brown hair glowing auburn as the sun breaks the horizon, sending shafts of light streaming through the kitchen.

It’s Declan’s da, wielding something more serious than a skillet.

Pushing past Adrina’s father, he grips the hilt of a sword in both hands and swings it in a sharp, slicing arc. For a moment, I think he’s missed, but then the harpy goes stiff and her head topples from her gnarled shoulders. It makes a hollow thunk on the floor, where the rest of her collapses a beat later.

I slump by the window, shaking even harder, some primal part of me refusing to believe it’s over, that I’m safe.

But then, I’m not safe…

“Father Cooper,” I whisper, my voice trembling as hard as the rest of me as I get my first good look at my calf.

It’s so much meat, ravaged and raw. But it’s the white crust forming on the skin around the wound that terrifies me most. Harpy poison is necrotic, even for supernatural creatures. It will kill everything it touches and soon it will touch all of me. It will travel through my blood, dealing out tiny deaths until there isn’t anything healthy left.

Mother will still have her way. I will still die.

Unless…

Father Cooper is standing over me now, his sword still in hand. His kind gray eyes meet mine. I see the knowledge in them, the question, and I nod quickly, desperately. “Yes. Please. It’s the only way. The only chance.”

Without a word, he lifts the sword and brings it down as hard as he can, cleanly slicing my leg from my body, just above the knee. I see blood rush from the stump just like it did that night so long ago. My heart drums hard. My mind cringes, dreading the wave of agony sure to hit, full force, at any moment.

But then Father Cooper’s hand rests on my forehead, and his soft, insistent magic wraps my soul in a misery-muffling blanket.

My eyes slide shut.

I have a faint sense of falling, and then I’m gone.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Declan

I reach the window in time to see Da bringing a sword down on Clara’s leg.

I drag in a breath to shout for him to stop, but it’s too late.

Oh Christ, it’s too late. Clara’s leg is gone and there’s blood everywhere.

My scream emerges as a wounded cry of betrayal.

I scramble through the window, nearly falling on top of Clara as she passes out, but Da catches me and drags me away before my knees collide with her head.

As soon as I’m back on my feet, I fight him, shoving his hands away and twisting back toward her. “I won’t let you kill her! We have to help her, we—”

“I am helping her, son!” He steps in front of me, holding his arms out to block my way when I attempt to circle around him. “The leg was full of harpy poison. It had to be removed. If I can stop the bleeding and the poison isn’t already on its way to her heart, we might still save her. But you have to let me work.”

I stop trying to shove past him but hold my ground when he urges me toward the door. “No, I’m staying. I’ll help you.” He starts to protest again, but I cut him off, “I’m not afraid of the blood, Da.” I swallow hard. “The only thing I’m afraid of is losing her.”

He hesitates another beat, but finally sighs and motions to my waist. “All right. Take off your belt. We’ll start with that. Wrap it tight around her thigh above the wound. Then you can help me lift her onto the bed.”

I do as I’m told, moving quickly, ignoring the horrified voice in my head shouting that I should scoop Clara up and run away with her as fast as I can. I can trust Da. If he says he’s trying to save her life, that’s what he’s doing. If he realizes what Clara really is and tries to kill her later, well…

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