Page 45 of Cursebreaker

The cell door creaks open as I turn on my heel and march up the companionway. I bite the insides of my cheeks, fighting back tears, as I burst onto the deck and collide with something that sends me reeling backward.

My foot slips on the top tread, my stomach lurching, but someone grabs my wrists as I fall, pulling me forward.

I squint against the glare of the sun to make out his dirty-blond hair, shining like liquid gold.

“I see stairs are still your greatest foe,” he says, steadying me.

Kind eyes. Carefree grin.

Owen.

Laughter dances on his face, shimmering and alive and as bright as the sun.

My breath hitches. “Owen?”

I launch myself at him, my arms wrapped around his neck.

His body goes rigid. Over his shoulder, Charlie, Margaret, and Lewis stand side by side, their expressions a mixture of skepticism and relief. Lewis takes a tentative step forward, but Margaret catches his wrist. Charlie covers his face with his hands, sobbing quietly.

I squeeze Owen tighter.

Something wet splatters the top of my head, like a single drop of rain. Then another.

Owen returns my embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice rough. “I’m sorry for everything.”

I draw back, my hands on his shoulders. “Father’s alive!” I tell him, tears streaming down my cheeks. “He’s alive and—”

“I know,” Owen chokes out, rubbing the nape of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’ve seen him.”

My stomach drops. “You what?”

He cuts a glance at the sky, eyes glittering with mischief as he wipes his face with the hem of his sleeve. “I’ve been keeping an eye on things.”

Of course—the raven.

I smack his arm, and even though he laughs, the sound is tinged with sadness, and a dozen emotions—shame, guilt, regret, fear—flash in his eyes. Unguarded. Human.

“But…” I shake my head. “You were working for Morana. You were a Shifter—”

“I still am.” He adds quickly, “A Shifter, I mean. But I no longer serve Morana.” Something dark passes over his expression. “I never wanted to.”

“But how?” I ask, watching over his shoulder as our siblings approach, brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, listening.

Owen’s throat bobs. “Morana uses fear to control her soldiers,” he says. “Fear and lies. But on Reckoning Day, after everything I’d done, you told me you loved me.” He smiles, but his face crumples with a sob, and he shakes his head. “You broke the spell. And I… I’ve been trying to break free ever since. It wasn’t easy—Morana had to believe I was on her side. That I was a loyal servant. But I tried to help you whenever I could. I tried to warn you.”

William Castor is lying to you. “It was your card on the train,” I say. “The message.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more direct,” he says, scratching his jaw. “If he had known I was working against Morana—”

“Don’t be sorry,” I say, drawing him into another hug. “You saved me.”

“I didn’t—”

“I wouldn’t be here without you.” I hold him at arm’s length. “You freed us both.”

His chin quivers. “This is all my fault.”