Page 147
RIVEN
Mate.
A word as small as love, yet so much more profound.
Anyone can fall in love. But to fall for your mate without knowing with absolute certainty that the bond exists?
That’s unheard of.
It still doesn’t feel real. Yet it’s undeniable.
The constant pull to Gwyn. The uncanny way I read her so easily, how I can strum her body like an instrument, coaxing sounds from her no one else ever has.
Mate. My beautiful, sure-hearted mate.
Taken from me on our godsdamned wedding day.
The quiet rage returns, simmering beneath my skin, as I stare at the unconscious female wearing Gwyn’s face. It’s the same rage that burned through me when I picked myself up off Arkyn’s bedroom floor. Roughly half an hour ago, Lettie created a distraction. Arkyn snuck up behind Not-Gwyn and pressed a toxin-soaked cloth to her face. She crumpled within seconds.
We brought her to the solarium for questioning.
I wanted the dungeon. Wanted her to be terrified like Gwyn must be terrified.
But Arkyn thought it’d be better to use the solarium. It’s warm, bright. Disarming.
A perfect reminder of who we’re searching for.
Not-Gwyn stirs from where she’s bound to a pillar, wrists tied behind her back.
“R-Riven?” she stammers, wincing as she sits upright. She looks around her. “Gods, my head is killing me.” Sunlight drenches her in gold, and she blinks at Arkyn and Lettie. “What’s going on? Where am I?”
I hate how much she sounds like Gwyn, how much she looks like my witch.
But it’s not her.
I can feel it in the very depths of me when I look at her.
She may be wearing her face, but this female is not my mate.
I crouch in front of her. “Who are you?”
“If you’re wondering if I’m concussed, I’m not,” she says, mimicking Gwyn’s dry wit. “I know who I am.”
“Then say it.” My voice sharpens. “Who are you, really?”
She glares at me, but there is no playfulness in those silver eyes. “I’m Gwyn.” She tugs on the bindings. “Now, untie me.”
“Not until you drop the glamour,” I hiss.
“You’re scaring me.” Her glare softens, gaze turning doe-eyed. “Have I done something to upset you, Riven? If I have, just tell me. I-I’ll fix it.”
It’s such a Gwyn-like response that my chest gives a painful squeeze.
“Don’t fall for it,” Avaline growls, storming into the room.
The plants perk up around her, curling toward her in welcome.
Not-Gwyn’s eyes widen. “You— You’re not supposed to be awake yet.”
