“So, are you ready for me to take you home now?” Romulus asks behind me.
The breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding explodes out of my chest. “You just laid aloton me. Give a girl a minute.”
I keep my eyes averted as I drape the towel over the rounded dough ball, smoothing it with more care than necessary. Stalling.
Finally, I turn and really look at him. At the face in front of me.
For the first time, I actuallystudyhim instead of just reacting.
There are similarities between Remus’s and Romulus’s features, sure. But Romulus’s are less exaggerated than his twin’s. His jaw isn’t quite as wide. His forehead isn’t as broad. His lips are just as full but somehow not as widespread across his face.
I blink a couple times, and suddenly it clicks—what I couldn’t quite put my finger on when I first saw him.
Aha.
He’s the more classically handsome version of Remus.
The thing is, I’ve always thought that perfectly symmetrical, so-called perfect faces were boring. Generic. I like Remus’s stretched, slightly mad-looking features. I think he’s wildly, devastatingly handsome. I love the impish glint in his eye and never knowing what’s going to come out of his mouth next.
But was he just playing with me?
Doing what his brother says—making chaos by stealing me away for fun?
I frown, remembering the way he tenderly promised never to hurt me. The gentleness in his hands even when his passion burned hot. Were those the words of a man who had no value for human life?
Because, uh, I’m a human. And he’s been so careful with me.
Was it all manipulation?
It felt so...real.
“How does your magic or power or whatever work?” I ask. “How did you influence these armies and stir bloodlust?”
Romulus blinks at me. “I think you’re missing the point here. My brother is a very bad?—”
I wave a hand. “Yeah, yeah. Blah, blah. He’s the worst. Would tear a hole in the fabric of all that’s good and holy, whatever.” I level him with a look. “I’m askinghow. Like, what do you even do? How does your magic work?”
“It’s notmagic,” he snaps, sounding genuinely appalled.
I roll my eyes and give another dismissive wave. “Okay, then what is it? How does it work?”
He looks put-off, like he definitely thought I’d run screaming after his boogeyman stories. “What does it matter?”
I cock my head. “You’re expecting me to just take off because of what you’re telling me about Remus.” I cross my arms. “So yeah. It matters.”
It matters because if Remus has been somehow using magic—or power, or whatever—on me to make me feel all the things I’ve been feeling, just to use me for his own reasons and then toss me away? That’s one thing.
If not, then this gets a hell of a lot more complicated.
Romulus shrugs. “It’s a power not of this world, imbued by the godhood of the Great Hall. When the Horsemen ride, our aura spreads across the land. Each curse works differently. Remus and I influence events by lassoing existing energy and pouring in our own will to amplify it.”
I parse through that. “So, can you change people’s minds? Make them do what they don’t want to do?”
He breathes out, and I can tell he’s starting to see why I’m asking. “No. We can’t affect free will. But we can drive men to madness with their own existing desires—by amplifying and feeding off them.”
“Feeding off them?” My stomach turns. “Like some sort of energy vampire?”
He shakes his head. Then pauses. “No. And... yes. My brothers and I never fed—to use such a coarse term. But our father...” His voice trails off. “Sometimes I wonder.”
