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I tried to steady my shaking hands but couldn’t.
She knew something I did not, and that was driving me mad.Sick, she’d told the Mistress.He’s sick, and he’s no good to us. Put him down like an animal but take your time. Play with him. Make him suffer.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I’d wracked my brain over the question that was slowly cannibalizing my sanity and now, in the dark, I couldn’t stop, panic flaying me open like a sharp knife.
My mother had died young, some illness that struck out of nowhere and had no cure.
My father was…My father was a fucked-up mess, and his problems had nothing to do with mine. That’s what I told myself. And yet…something niggled at the edge of my memories, his utter desperation over my mother.
Visits during those last months, from seers and witches and even human healers.
As if Lucius was willing to risk anything to save her.
I fought the pain enough to turn, relaxing when I saw Anaria slumped against Raziel, the circles beneath her eyes darker. When I frowned, she gave me a little smile, her eyes lighting up.
Just that one small thing made me happier than anything had in…forever, I supposed.
Since Julian. Since my brother had last smiled at me, though I couldn’t exactly remember when that had been. Or why.
Raz dipped his head, and I nodded back. The bastard had saved my life, and now I owed him…but somehow…I didn’t mind owing him.
All of us together, riding for Nightcairn, felt right.
Before Anaria, we’d been uneasy allies, thrown together out of desperation and Julian’s mad plans, but now…everything was different. I gripped my reins tighter, wondering if I was being foolish. I’d always wanted a pack—a family—and maybe…I’d finally found mine. Watching Zor and Raz make love to Anaria…Next time…Next time that would be me.
I was tired of fighting the inevitable.
I was ready to be happy. I wanted Anaria more than I wanted to live, even if I had to crawl on my knees to have her. Even if I had to share her, the sacrifice would be worth it.
She was worth it.
Time blurred together in the tunnel, hours spinning past like minutes, none of us saying a word.
In the shuddering silence, I replayed everything Adele had revealed to Zor and I last night, especially about the Wynters.
My breath turned shaky. I’d killed Anaria’s kin, and somehow, I knew that, too, had been part of the Oracle’s plan. Layers upon layers of cruelty and plotting, and when Anaria discovered what I’d done…
I squared my shoulders, resolve settling into me like tempered steel. I would take whatever punishment Anaria thought I deserved.
I would beg for her forgiveness, then earn back her trust. There was nothing I wouldn’t endure for her, nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice, as long as there was a chance of us being together.
Adele rode in front of me, her hunched shoulders skeletal beneath the thin, blue gown, and a jolt of anger went through me. Anaria still didn’t know. Didn’t know about her mother’s betrayal. Didn’t know she had witch blood. And from Adele’s veiled threat, she would use the Wynters’ deaths against me, as readily as the Oracle would.
I didn’t trust her. Not one bit.
Not when her ambition outweighed her affection for her daughter.
Zor, Raz, Tristan, and I had snuck off that night and discussed everything. Quickly, and with no argument, we’d come to an agreement.
Anaria came first.
Always.
Her welfare outweighed our own. Protecting her was our only objective. Even if that meant from her own mother. But right now, we needed to regroup, out of earshot of Torin, who’d probably tagged along to spy on us, and away from Adele, who had plots of her own.
Raz muttered something foul about the smell, and Anaria’s soft chuckle floated up to me, chasing away these miserable thoughts. I turned, though even that small movement made the healing gash across my abdomen hurt like a mother fucker.
