Page 119 of Devoured

Cora scoffs. “We will not be discussing anyone from those courts anymore.”

“But I thought Countess Rikki would be in attendance. You sent out invitations weeks ago, didn’t you?”

“I did. And most of them have decided they are, in fact, cowards.” She pivots on her heel just as the door to the castle swings open, and none other than Evander steps through. “Speaking of which…” Cora purrs. “You remember Evander, don’t you, Vanessa?”

My teeth clench as Sin arches a brow at me, glancing between us suspiciously. “Do you?” he asks me.

“I believe we met once,” I bite out. “He was running errands for your mother.” “Like her puppet,” I add silently, “when she made me torture Calix.”

Evander grins as if he heard me anyway. “They do say I am ever loyal.” Winking, he turns to Cora and bows low. “You sent for me?”

Sin ignores him, deciding his feud with his mother is more important than this random man, and faces Cora once more. “Most? As in… we won’t be having guests at the rite?”

Cora lifts her chin, licking her lips. When she glances at her son, there is nothing in her gaze besides smoldering apathy. “I do believe you’re aware of how we feel about traitors in my court.”

He glowers. “And what about tradition, Mother? The seven werewolf courts are expected to send noble attendees to any royal ceremony. If they’re missing, and the realm is missing, then—”

“Oh, don’t give me that.” Scoffing, she rolls her eyes and finally wipes the blood from her cheek. It smears into a macabre tear. “We need only for you and Vanessa to share blood in order to bind you together. The rest means nothing. Besides, I believe you scorned tradition first. Or is it traditional for a son to slaughter his adoptive mother?”

He flinches as if she slapped him before falling silent. And I don’t know why—I have no reason to do it—but I take his hand and squeeze. He returns the pressure, just once, before pulling away. He doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t look at anyone, just stares past all of us at the horizon.

Cora knows her accusation will hurt him; she knows calling Sybil his mother will slice him deep to his core. Deeper than any sort of physical torment. She is still manipulating him. Manipulating all of us. Though our machinations succeeded—though the chaos Evie, Portia, Calix, and I wrought punctured Cora’s nerves exactly as intended—I’m not sure we’re equipped to deal with this kind of fallout.

She stares at Sin now as if she’s starving. As if she hasn’t eaten in weeks and he would make the perfect meal. Then she looks at me, and her eyes flash.

“How do you feel about another errand, Evander?” Her gaze hones on mine as if she just found different prey to satiate her needs. “My son demands more guests for his wedding, and I would hate to disappoint him.”

“I am forevermore at your beck and call, Your Majesty,” Evander says, but there is a bolt of flame in my chest at the lie. His gaze shifts to mine as if he knows that too. “How can I serve you?”

“I think another visit to the city is in order. My werewolves have been terribly irritating as of late. Perhaps I made a mistake with some of them. Breaking into all those prisons, stealing murderers and delinquents off the mortal streets—they’ve been more lackluster than I expected. I think we should try something… fresh.”

My pulse races.

“What are you proposing, Mother?” Sin asks, his voice almost a perfect demonstration of bored arrogance. The lie underneath scorches through it, through me, until his facade may as well be ash in my hands. He won’t look at me, he won’t turn to face us, but he’s worried.

“Don’t you trouble your pretty little princely head about it. In the meantime, I need you to meet with the cooks to craft menus for the celebration after the rite. Suggest your favorites. Whatever you want. We won’t be long.”

Sin’s head snaps toward his mother, then toward me. His gaze narrows. “Fine.” He extends a hand in my direction. “Shall we, Vanessa?”

Cora shakes her head. “No, no. I need Vanessa. Us girls have so much to plan, after all.”

Sin’s hand clenches into a hard fist. “No.”

Cora waves the word away. “Don’t argue with me.”

He snarls. “I said, no—”

“Vanessa,” Cora snarls abruptly. “Tell your future mate that you are going to plan this rite with me so he’ll leave us alone.” Then, to Sin, “I am trying not to be offended by your complete obstinacy as of late. I have no desire to rid us of your darling fiancée before you can mate her. So leave, Sinclair, lest I lose my head again.”

His muscles tense. A hint of fang flashes under the sunlight. I reach forward and touch his arm gently. “It’s okay,” I lie. “I’ll be okay.”

He glares at his mother, shuddering, his bones contorting painfully beneath his skin. “If you touch one hair on her head—”

Cora cackles. “Always so dramatic.” She grabs me by my hand, pulling me in for a suffocating hug. Her touch stings like ice, her lips cool at my ear. “We are the best of friends. Aren’t we, Vanessa?”

“Yes.” My gaze collides with Sin’s over her shoulder, and I implore him to listen to me. “Go, Sin.” The longer he waits, the more she might torture me. The more she might hurt us.

He must realize this, because he finally obeys. Leaving swiftly, he storms off without another glance in any of our directions. Once the door to the castle thunders shut behind him, Cora pulls away from me with a disdainful sigh and fixes her glare back upon my face. “I want you to go with Evander and retrieve some new courtiers for our castle.”