I released her, and she shooed us outside. “Go on now. No time to waste. Clock’s ticking, and you’re already behind.”
As the door closed, Thorne turned to me. “What did she mean by that?”
I shrugged, ignoring the heavy, sinking sensation in my gut. “Like you, Yaga is a woman of mystery.”
“You get your rock?”
I patted the front of my shirt, feeling the stone beneath the fabric. “Yes.”
“And your wound?” He glanced at my forearm and blanched, grabbing my wrist. “What is this? It’s gone.”
I yanked my arm free, tugging down my sleeve to hide the pale line. “I told you Yaga is gifted.”
Thorne narrowed those damned blue eyes, as if he could strip the truth right out of me.
“We should get moving if we’re going to make it back before dark,” I said evenly, keeping my expression blank.
“Come on.” He clasped my hand, walking at my side like he feared I might turn into smoke.
Once we’d retrieved our belongings, we headed to the stable to ready the horses. With their reins tied to the fence, wesecured my purchases to the saddle, careful not to smash anything.
“You’re quiet,” Thorne finally said. “What did Yaga say to you?”
Too much. And not nearly enough. I debated how much to share, settling on my biggest concern. “While Yaga tended my arm, I met one of the housemaids from Rottbarry. She claimed she saw Speck and the others led away in chains.”
“Sera.” His voice softened, though the words cut. “Just because they took them alive doesn’t mean they still live.”
My throat tightened. “I have to believe it’s possible. To have hope. Without it…” Tears welled, the stress of the last few days forcing cracks into my mental walls. After all that had happened, Yaga’s revelations threatened to shatter me.
Sacrificed. Of all the things she said. This was by far the most disturbing.
My parents.
Sacrificed me.
Hot tears spilled down my cheeks, striking the dirt at my feet. I turned away, desperate to hide them.
“Sera.” Gentle fingers grasped my arm. “Talk to me. What else did Yaga tell you?”
The kindness in his tone nearly unraveled me. I desperately needed someone to talk to. Except after Yaga’s warnings about the dragons, could I trust him?
“It’s nothing. It’s just…”
Something grazed my calf. I glanced down and gasped. Around my ankle was a delicate vine, its crimson blossoms unfurling. While I was distracted, several patches had grown beneath my feet.
“What the hell?” Thorne stared wide-eyed before his gaze shot back to mine.
“Hathor’s red sacris flowers,” I spat. The same goddess whose brand shackled my neck. A brand that marked me likecattle. And what did I get out of the deal? Abandonment. Followed by a life of slavery with a promise of more servitude.
And flowers.
Useless flarking flowers.
I jerked my leg free and dropped to my knees. My hands tore at the blooms, strangling stems, crushing petals. “Why?” I shouted at the earth, ripping a handful out of the soil. “Why does this keep happening?” Another patch crumbled in my grasp, the spicy scent of vegetation searing my senses. I threw my head back, yelling at the heavens. “What do you want from me?
“Serafina.” Thorne’s steady hand clamped down on my shoulder. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”
A dark presence slithered along my nerves—oily and menacing.
