“You’ll need it, trust me,” Jestin says. Aidon snorts, but I reluctantly settle between Jestin’s legs. When I do, he leans close, lips near my ear. “Whatever it means to you, I am sorry.”
I freeze.
“You don’t know one of the most crucial customs; the responsibility of your line. You were too young to witness it,” Riven says.
“Passing ceremony?” I dare to guess.
He nods.
Fuck.
“High Queen Barbara wanted to shield you from the Dead God as long as she could. And after the… incident, you ran away. There was no one left with the knowledge to tell you, even if you would have listened,” Riven explains.
“The High Queen must command the spirits to Gorok’s gardens; otherwise, they’ll be trapped in the Spiritland. Their souls slowly decaying, freezing in that world until they fade into nothing.” His gaze pins me, and I wish I hadn’t asked. “Your family’s souls are… deteriorating.”
“What does it mean? How do you know?” I ask.
He hesitates, uncertain if he should speak. Before I can snap, he continues, pain etched across his face so sharply it makes me want to throw up.
“Trisha’s spirit visited me.”
The world tilts. For a heartbeat, I forget how to breathe. Of all names,hers.
Trisha. The one Fae who was supposed to be loyal and turned out to be the biggest traitor.
My sister. My blood.
The one who broke my heart first.
The thought that Riven could have been close to her slices through me with alchemical precision. It’s too sharp to scream, too deep to cry. My stomach churns; bile burns my throat. Did he mourn her? Did heloveher?
Please, Gorok, tell me I’m overthinking this.
He doesn’t look away. His expression is a mixture of guilt and pity, and I can’t stand either.
“You must do your duty, or the spirits will make sure you suffer with them before they die for good,” he adds softly.
I turn to Jestin, wanting to understand his role in this ruse.
“How did you know about that?”
He tries to catch my eye, but I avoid his gaze, still sitting on his lap, though I’ve never felt so unsafe there. “After Samira’s mating ceremony, Riven contacted me, asking if I knew your whereabouts.”
“And you couldn’t tell me straight?” My voice comes out barely as a whisper; his betrayal cuts the deepest, after our moment, after those days when we connected so much.
“You were out of control, barely sober, always snapping and defensive,” he says, reaching for my chin, but I jerk away.
“We decided to make you care another way. It’s too important,” Riven says, trying to support his co-conspirator.
“To leave it to my own judgment because I’m too unstable?” His lack of remorse blows the lid off my anger, and I shout the words, unashamed of the tears clouding my eyes.
Jestin tries to soothe me, but I jerk away and stand.
They stay silent, heads bowed.
“What is your role in this?” I step into Aidon’s space. My fingers shake, so I clench them tight. “Answer me!”
Aidon tilts his head, forcing me to meet his scarlet eyes.
