Achorus of snuffles and snores rose up around me. Warm bodies pressed against mine, limbs tangled together like a hot bowl of Mom’s spaghetti bolognese. My head rested against Flynn’s chest, which rose and fell in a steady rhythm.This is thebestway to sleep.
If I could actually sleep.
I’d been staring at the ceiling for hours, straining my ears as though I might somehow be able to hear what was going on outside. How could I sleep while people stood out there with torches ready to burn us alive? How much longer would the protective charms hold us?
I sat up, my bladder screaming. Arthur stood at the window. He’d cleverly set his alarm clock so he could wake up and relieve Corbin. That exchange had happened a half hour ago. Corbin hadn’t looked happy to leave his post (clearly, he never intended to wake Arthur up), but he’d snuggled down into Rowan’s arms and fallen asleep in minutes. He didn’t stir as I slid out from under Blake’s arm and joined Arthur at the window.
“No change,” he said, wrapping his huge arm around my shoulder. His eyes never left the scene outside. “We’re still holding. Why are you up?”
Far below, figures surrounded the walls of the cottage, their glittering torches still glowing. At the front gate, a tow truck and a couple of tractors had torn the iron gates off and now banged against the invisible barrier, trying to break it down.
“I need the bathroom,” I said.
“You should wake someone to go with you. None of us should be alone, even in the castle.”
“It’s literally at the bottom of the stairs. I’ll be fine.” The boys weren’t able to build an ensuite into the tower without extensive plumbing work, so they’d given one of the bathrooms on the second floor over to me. They’d decorated it in the same jewel tones as my room, and a brand new claw-foot bath took up half the impressive floor plan. I’d already filled it with Rowan’s handmade soaps and organic skincare products from Clara’s shop. It smelled like a rose garden and I loved it.
I did my business, then sat on the edge of the bath and stared out the narrow arrow slit beside the vanity at the sky beyond. Stars glittered across the sky like torches in the heavens. For the first time, they didn’t fill me with wonder – only dread.
How long until the villagers break through?
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement on the vanity. The mirror swirled with a dark mist that congealed in the centre. After a few moments, it settled into Daigh’s face.
“You’re hiding inside your castle, instead of fighting them?” he sneered. “That’s not the daughter I raised.”
“That’s right. I’m not the daughter you raised, because you didn’t raise me. Enough people have already died,” I shot back. “That’s the whole reason I’m trying to get you to take this deal – to save lives. We can’t go around dishing out justice just because the villagers are scared of us.”
“Why not? When people fear you, they obey you.”
“I don’t want people to obey me. I want them to leave me and my guys the fuck alone.” I glared at him. “Present company included.”
Daigh tilted his head to the side. “Such righteous anger. And yet, if the enemy outside were fae…”
“Same deal. Maybe in the past, humans have been cruel to the fae, because they were greedy or afraid. It doesn’t mean we can’t try another way. But you have to stop trying to slaughter us all first. I don’t want to hurt the fae, but…” I touched the dagger I’d carried down with me. “We will defend ourselves.”
“I’m not trying to slaughter you, my daughter.” The rhyme sounded lyrical, intentional, on his lips. Daigh laughed. “I’m here to help save your skin. And maybe the skins of all your fellow witches, since you seem so attached to them.”
“You can do that by telling me if you’ve secured the loyalty of the fae, if they’ll support our agreement.”
“It’s too early to say, but the evidence is compelling. The fae see now that the dream cannot possibly be any future I bring about.”
“There’s no way to know that.”
“But there is. Because I’d never impale my own daughter on a stake and burn her flesh off.”
Air leaked out of my lungs like a punctured balloon.It was me on the stake all along.I ran my hand over my cheek, imagining the skin peeled away, the muscle and tendons below exposed to fire and carrion birds, my body burning while I screamed for mercy. My stomach churned.
Burned alive, just like my parents in the Ferris Wheel fire.
“You saw the sixth stake,” I choked out. I tried to remember where Daigh had been standing in the dream, but it wouldn’t come back to me. I’d been too focused on the scarred and broken bodies of my guys, pierced through the chest and blackened withfire.Why did Daigh see it and not me?Perhaps my subconscious had blocked me from seeing it, knowing that it would distress me.
I dug my nails into the enamel rim of the bath and leaned forward as my stomach heaved. Bile rose in my throat. I coughed, fighting to hold back my dinner. Through the mirror, Daigh made tutting voices.
I pressed my hands against the tiles. Their coolness brought me back to the present. To Daigh in the mirror, and the mob outside.
Do your duty,I reminded myself.Protect the coven. Protect the earth at all costs.
The urge to puke subsided, and I rose shakily to my feet. I stood at the window and gazed down at the mob outside.Surely they didn’t intend to?—
