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Above the lot of them, it was Faenir’s I cared for.
His shock was so palpable that it encouraged the hairs upon my arms to stand on end.
“Impossible,” he muttered, eyes flicking back and forth from his hands then back to me.
My breathing was heavy, my heart thundering painfully in my chest. The ability to form words failed me as I felt buried beneath the weight of the elves attention. Names were powerful, not something I wished to give out so easily. Father had taught me that.
A tingling spread across my palm. No matter how many times I flexed it at my side the feeling would not stop. Faenir had left his impression upon me, and I was unable to decide how I felt about it.
“Faenir,” Myrinn said, turning her back on me as though I was not worthy to listen to. “Now.”
Faenir waited for me to answer him. I held my breath, urging him to leave as he was being asked to do.
When he finally turned away, I could have fallen to my knees.
“Wait,” Auriol called out, breaking the line as she begged for the elf’s attention. “Please, he didn’t mean to do that. Take me with you. Let me be your Chosen!”
My skin crawled as I listened to her pleading. Watching her race forward, the skirt of her dress held in two tense fists, I saw the reality of what I had done. The severity of it.
The elves sauntered towards the tree, five with their Chosen mates and Faenir without.She should be with him. She will hate you for this.
Dameon didn’t have the chance to speak as they brushed past him and disappeared into the rippling body of the tree.
It happened so quickly.
Only when the last slip of Myrinn’s straight back passed from view did Auriol turn to me. Her eyes burned, wide and red. A single tear escaped, slicing down her cheek where it traced the curves of her jaw and stained her dress once it fell. It seemed that the ground trembled where she stood rooted to it, but it was her body. She shook violently, physically trying to stop poisonous hate from bursting beyond her pale lips.
The peace lasted a second.
“You ruined everything,” she growled. When her mouth moved again nothing more than a slip of exhausted air came out.
“Auriol, I’m…”Sorry?No. I wasn’t sorry. I did what I had been tasked by our parents to do. I kept her safe. She could hate me for the rest of her life and it would be thetitheI would pay for knowing she was safe. Safe from the unknown. Safe from them.
Safe… from Faenir.
Dameon pounced upon the scene, face flushed, scarlet staining his neck and cheeks. He took my upper arm in his hand, pinching my skin between careless fingers. “One of you needs to explain what has just happened. Right. Now. Do you understand the severity? The disrespect would be the downfall of Tithe!”
“Get off me!” The pain Dameon inflicted on me was the anchor I needed to focus. I tore my arm free just as the wave of the crowd flooded over us. Auriol was lost to it, but I had nowhere to go, not with the furious form of the Watcher in my way and the occupants of Tithe at my back.
I was trapped in the net of furious chaos.
“You are not going anywhere, Arlo Grey.” Dameon attempted to reach out for me but missed as I began slipping away. “Something needs to be done in hopes to plead forgiveness for your disregard to our customs.”
I didn’t care for what he said next. Dancing around the crush of bodies, I ran, head down and mind focused as I tried everything to find Auriol.
People tried to stop me, but their effort was in vain. Nothing would prevent me from finding my sister. I had stopped her from being taken from me, I would not lose her now without a fight.
* * *
Icould hear the song of destruction before I even reached the front door to our home. The shattering of glass. The splintering of wood. My legs burned as I bounded up the stairs, two at a time. I was greeted by our door left ajar. Shards of broken plates and cups littered the floor beyond like blades of deadly grass. My boots betrayed me, announcing my arrival with loud crunching, as did the screeching door hinges that screamed as I pushed it wide.
Auriol waited for me with a chair held above her head. She grimaced, a cat-like shriek spitting out of her as she hoisted the chair forward and threw it towards me. It shattered across the wall at my side. Splinters exploded across the side of my face, cutting and scratching.
“I hate you!”
I lowered my arm, recognising the wet warmth of a cut across my cheek. “I know.”
She stood there, breathing laboured and eyes wild with fury. Her hair was unkempt, her dress ruined by the smudging of dirt along its seam. “Do you? Do you know how selfish you are? How completely consumed by your own wants and needs that you cannot see that your actions will be the ruin of us!”
