“Sit down, Angharad,” Florence warned.
Shadows seeped from behind the couch and wrapped around Angharad’s waist. They pulled her down, securing her to the furniture. She fought against them, shouting, but she couldn’t see what was happening to her. Nicolas and Quinn hadn’t.
“Fuck!” Angharad screamed. “I can’t move! Is this your doing?!”
“Stay there and sober up.” Florence turned to me, nodding, and I felt the deepest chill creep down my spine. We left the room, walking faster than I had in a month.
“What was that?” I whispered. I’d wielded shadows before, but never like that. “It wasn’t an incantation, it was a command—”
“Not now.”
“But—” I caught myself this time, the sight of Quinn stealing my breath. He came around the corner with enough speed that his boots skidded against the stone. Then he saw me, his eyes revealing his desperation.
I doubled over, caught by Florence, and stood utterly still at the sensation of twisting in my pelvis.
“Breathe,” she reminded.
It passed seconds later, and Quinn was finally beside me, taking my arm from Marcy. He examined me, cataloguing everything in an instant.
“Easy,” he soothed. “How far apart?”
“That was the first,” Florence said on my behalf.
“Good. We have time.” His jaw set with determination. Then he turned back to me and lowered his voice. “One step at a time, Alana. Lean on me.”
Our procession to the tower was met with migraine-inducing applause, as if I’d done anything noteworthy beyond soiling my clothes. We stopped again, halfway there, and another one of those waves thundered through me. Florence squeezed my arm, muttering in Hadrian before speaking again.
“Do you remember the night in the woods, Alana?” she asked, causing my heart to stutter with fear. “The pain you felt will render this insignificant. It will hurt, but you are strong.”
We kept going, reaching the stairs. That was the worst of it—every few steps seemed to bring on another contraction. Quinn and Florence held me through them, helping me to stay on my feet. Gods, it was getting hard not to scream. That final one made me bite my tongue hard enough to taste blood.
At last we reached the room, a calm and quaint setting where I would be confined for the following days. My parents were swiftto arrive, readying their station. Then Winnie faced the viscount, touching his wrist.
“You have to leave,” she said.
Quinn’s lips trembled. He looked at me as I hunched over the bed, agonizing through another painful round.
Then he approached me, reaching into his collar and fishing out the wolf’s tooth necklace. He untied it, then fixed it around my neck.
His knuckle grazed my cheek. “Be brave, Nightingale.”
There was no thinking through this, and signing didn’t come naturally enough to me that I could think of a single phrase to reply to him with. I leaned into his touch, just barely, and managed a nod.
He hurried down the stairs. The door shut behind him, and Winnie quickly helped me recline
“Put this in your mouth,” she ordered, handing me a clean cloth. My brow pinched, but I did as she said, though this time there was no stopping the groan that escaped me. Then she nodded to my mother, who went out into the hall and shut the door. “All right, Alana. I need you to make a loud noise with the next one.”
I nodded, and I wasn’t sure I could have done otherwise. I screamed into the cloth gag, and Florence held me. In the corner of my eye, I saw my father readying tonics and warming water.
Mother returned. “I heard nothing. We’re safe.”
“Mom,” I whimpered. She just smiled, came over and pushed my hair from my face.
“Look how many people are here for you.” She smiled. “It’ll be all right. Breathe.”
Chapter 48
I stared downat the little face smashed against my chest. At the tiny, blotchy body, raising and falling with each minute breath. Matted brown hair, white with vernix, crowned her head.
