“She’s always been so insufferable,” I muttered, my fingers clenching at my sides as we made our way into my room. “Pretending she’s better than us. As if being our stepsister ever made her ourequal.”
Amabel, as usual, was composed. Serene. Smug. She always held herself like she knew something I didn’t. It drove me mad.
“She forgets what she is because she thinks she’s safe now,” she murmured, as if she hadn’t heard my outburst. As if she were above my anger. I hated that about her, too.
“Safe!” I scoffed. “Worthless?”
The spineless little mouse who spent years shrinking into the corners of our home? Who cried when we whispered cruel things to her? Who flinched when we laughed too much? And now, suddenly, she thought she wassafe?
I could hardly stand it.
“So she thinks she’s going to be a perfect little bride, is that it?” I spat. “As if marrying into a noble house makes her one of them. As if caring for a child that isn’t hers makes her worth respecting.” I let out a sharp, breathy laugh, one that made Amabel glance at me sideways. “Oh, I cannotwaitto see her fall apart.”
“Then let’s make sure she does.”
A shiver of delight ran through me. That was what I loved about my twin. She wanted to see Serafina ruined just as much as I did. She just liked to pretend she was above it, but I knew she wasn’t.
“I want her to cry,” I said, voice thick with anticipation. “I want her to beg. I want her to regret ever thinking she could live in peace and happiness.”
“And she will,” Amabel said simply. Like it was nothing. Like it was already done.
And maybe it was.
“Little Miss Bell sat in hell, eating humble pie,” I breathed, tasting the words on my tongue. “Something humiliating. Something demeaning. And then she’ll die.”
“On her belly at our feet,” we said in unison.
Yes.Yes.
Serafina thought she had escaped us.
How sweet. How stupid.
She hadn’t even begun to suffer yet.
5. On the Edge
Koa
I packed the anti-magic grenades, my own design, with methodical precision. Each one could incapacitate a mid-level Dark witch for approximately forty-seven seconds. Just enough time to closedistance and finish the job. Casimir’s voice droned in the background, talking contingencies and protocols, but my mind was elsewhere.
“What kind of woman,” I asked myself more than my brothers, “gets bartered away in a marriage with three dhampirs?”
“The expendable kind.” Zane snorted from his position on the couch. “Just like Lucian said.”
“Or the dangerous kind,” Casimir countered. “Z, back to packing. We’re leaving in less than an hour.”
As they bickered, I thought about Arabesque Harrow. Dark witches didn’t operate on human morality. Their calculations were alien, their magic fueled by suffering and diabolical connections. If Arabesque was using our ‘bride’ as a game piece, the girl’s fate was likely sealed regardless of our intervention.
That thought bothered me more than it should have.
I’d killed before, we all had, but something about the potential execution of an unknown woman left a bitter taste. Not that I’d hesitate if she proved dangerous.‘Ohanacame first. Always.
“What if she’s innocent in all this?” I asked finally, voicing the question that had been gnawing at me. “What if she’s just another victim of Arabesque’s machinations? She could be an ally. At minimum, an asset.”
Cas considered this, his expression calculating.
“Possible, but unlikely. Arabesque wouldn’t sacrificeanypiece without a purpose.”
