But the cutting smile the Night Witch slices my way, it’s deadly indeed.
And the Prince was right.
If I’m not careful, she’ll kill me too, in the end.
PART 2
The Secrets of Shifters
PART TWO
SEVENTEEN
SUSPICIOUS
People.They’re shit. Zero out of ten, would not recommend.
Even the good ones. The kind ones. The ones you thought you knew!
“Creatchin, you are too good to us,” Nyra lies effortlessly with a sweet smile widening her face so hard that it pulls at the pink scar that arches along the side of her pretty features.
The disdain in me dissolves as my stomach tightens at the reminder of the scar that will forever line my sister’s innocent face. Because of me. Because of Prince Ravar.
And because of fucking Queen Creatchin.
She used all of us.
Time has passed by she’s still using all of us.
My sister is just better at faking her love for our new ruler and prison keeper.
Creatchin beams at Nyra with those big black eyes of hers, eating up what she sees. The two of them stand, admiring the newly remodeled dining hall. Bright chandeliers dangle from long silver chains to light the room in stunning opaque brightness. The old tables that once cluttered the room in careless rows are now replaced with glossy, elegantly carved dining tables, each one embellished with shifters and hell faeand creatures of all kinds represented in the pretty carvings of the dark wood.
“The people are going to love this,” Nyra chimes once more as her slender fingers skim delicately over the edge of a high-backed chair.
I can’t even tell if she’s faking her sincerity or if... Goddess, what if she truly is being sincere right now? What if she actually likes Creatchin?
Nyra spent weeks in the infirmary healing her knife wound along her cheek. It shouldn’t have taken that long. She shouldn’t have been isolated. I should have been able to see her!
But I wasn’t.
Creatchin and her hell fae nurses were her only contact then.
And now I feel like an outsider looking in at the girl I grew up with.
Why hasn’t she asked to go home? She has a husband. A child. Our family. Ravar took our mother, it’s true but we have a pack. She has people who love her!
Creatchin’s lithe frame wavers as she looks back at me. Long black hair shines in the intensity of the new lighting. Her gaggle of hell fae stop in their tracks as they watch their queen with big inky orbs, following her every move.
They’re ominous with their long animal like horns and spindly arms and legs. More so now that they seem to be as suspicious of me as their ruler is.
It’s as if she forgot I was her pawn in her plans against Ravar. It’s like we didn’t plot his downfall along.
It’s as if … I’ve used up my usefulness to her.
And you know what they say about loose ends …
“Are you feeling well, Cersia? You haven’t said a word all morning.” Creatchin is intelligent. The questions she asks are never inquisitive at all. They’re testing.
