"Oh," she says. "What is it?"
I lean forward, elbows on my knees, meeting her gaze. "Take me to one of the ceremonies."
Her face goes still. "Oh."
"You said you could do it," I continue. "Well, I've changed my mind, so how do we make it happen?"
She looks down at the floor, her shoulders curling inward. For the first time since I walked in, she looks unhappy.
"What's wrong?" I ask. "Can you not make it happen?"
"No, no, I can." Her voice is quiet. "It's just, I liked being away from it. From him." She lifts her eyes to mine, and there's something raw there. Something broken. "But if this is what you really want, then I'll do it for you."
I stare at her, at the faint scar on her cheekbone, the one she got from God knows what. "Take me in. Show me the man who killed my father, and I'll make sure Cormac never touches you again."
She blinks, her breath catching. "That's a big promise."
"Don't worry about that." My voice is firm. Steady. "I'll protect you."
She stares at me, and I stare back. Neither of us moves. The air between us feels thick, charged. Her neck flushes red, the color creeping up to her jaw.
"Okay," she says, standing, her hands twisting together. "But you'll have to follow what I say or do. Because if we get caught, death will be the kindest thing they do to us."
I lean back in the chair, crossing my arms. "Then we don't get caught."
"Yeah." She exhales sharply. "And you can forget about going after my father. He'll be heavily guarded. Brother George, yes. But him, no."
"I want Brother George first," I say. "Then I'll figure out Cormac."
She nods and looks at me. "Why the change? Have they started striking your routes again?"
I stiffen and give her a sharp look, surprised.
"I'll take that as a yes," she says and sits back down, crossing her arms to mirror my posture. "Then that means the third Monday of the month will be a Blood Moon ritual."
"That's this Monday," I say.
"Okay." She nods slowly, her mind clearly working through something. "This will be perfect, actually. It's a simple ceremony. One where guests and recruits would be present. So this actually works in your favor, even though it's to help go against you." She trails off, her voice fading.
I stand, closing the distance between us. She tilts her head back to look at me.
"Just tell me what we need to do," I say.
She takes a slow breath, her chest rising beneath the robe. "Okay. It's going to be an interesting night."
And for the first time since my father died, something settles inside me.
Not grief or rage, but clarity.
My grandfather may have started this war, but Cormac brought it to my home.
So I'm going into his.
23
CALLUM
Ilook at myself in the mirror, adjusting my tie until it sits perfectly straight.
