“Don’t you understand? We wonnothing.” Rooke’s eyes turned even colder. “Gravelock let you take her, because he wanted you to bring her back to Frostveil,” he pointed at the castle. “He wants her here because he needs all three pieces. Now that she is here…it’s only a matter of time before he has them.”
I glanced at my unconscious sister, trying to place the source of the simmering anger—the betrayal—in Rooke’s face.
This frigid coldness I seemed to be on the receiving end of.
Did he think…I betrayed him? That I’d somehow hatched a plan to bring my Wyrdtracker sister inside the castle to what…take back the Triune?
Was that why we were all outside? My heart slammed against my ribs and Ryland moved quickly to my side, both of us closing ranks in front of Varian and my sister out of sheer habit.
Was he planning to kill my sister, like he’d planned to kill me when we’d first arrived?
Rooke’s lips thinned, and I went still, hand dropping to my weapon, prepared to draw my blade, to fight him if he moved on her.
The pair of crows soared down, landed on one of his broad shoulders, fluffing their snow-covered feathers before making a soft, almost humming sound.
Rooke’s anger faded, replaced by something like disappointment.
“I’m not a fucking monster, commander. I’m not going to hurt your sister, but know this. We cannot allow her to wake up. The moment she does, and her connection with Gravelock is established, she will have to be restrained. Or locked up. And I have a feeling you and I willnotsee eye to eye on the manner of restraint.”
Then he turned and stalked back toward the castle, leaving us no choice but to follow in his wake.
39
ROOKE
When I stalked through the gates of Frostveil Castle, the familiar hum of the wards pulsed through my bones, welcoming me home.
Home.
Once, maybe, that was what this place was.
But now, this frozen pile of stones would never be anything but a prison to me, cold walls I could never leave, a lake I could never cross. The closest thing to freedom I’d experienced in fifty years was how I’d spent this past hour—standing at the water’s edge, the magic gnawing at me with greedy teeth, yearning for a world completely out of reach.
And now…
Gravelock had fucking outplayed me.
Everything had fallen into place so neatly, and I hadn’t even questioned my good fortune. Not the sudden sighting of the sister at Evernight, not Ryland’s mad plan,nothing.
Maybe I’d lost too much blood, maybe I’d just grown too desperate, but after they’d left, it struck me just howconvenient this all was. How fuckingeasy. And after I’d done some thinking, I’d done a bit of digging—or rather, I’d sent a magical summons out into the world, calling in a favor from a mage who once knew my father.
I didn’t have to wait long for answers.
Ariel Sandrush had established quite the reputation, and now…
Now we were well and truly fucked.
I couldn’t kill her—and damn Lyrae for even thinking I would ever stoop so low, but the girl was dangerous. A tool of Gravelock’s planted deep in the heart of my castle, at the worst possible moment, when I was running out of time and needed every ounce of my magic and my wits to win this final battle.
"Bring her to the east wing," I commanded, gesturing to Ariel's fragile, unconscious form cradled carefully in Varian’s arms. " I have one more vial of the potion, which will keep her under for a few more hours, but after that….” I shook my head. “Someone will have to stand watch, I can’t risk her being left alone.”
Which was bullshit.
To survive what came next, I needed all three of them armed and ready to defend this place while I united the Triune. Losing even one of them to babysitting duty meant our chances went down dramatically.
“I didn’t free my sister so she could be locked up again,” Lyrae hissed, her voice raw and throaty, boot toes tramping on my heels as she dogged my every step. “She’s already been a prisoner for decades.”
“I won’t let him take your sister,” I murmured, reading every fear etched on her beautiful face. “As long as she remains asleep, he can’t reach her. He can’t use her. He can’thurther, commander.” My throat tightened. That might be the best I could offer, and it wasn’t nearly enough.
