As if my words had been forged of barbed iron, he roars, head thrown back in agony as if struck by a fatal blow. He shudders. Once. Twice. Before my eyes, he shifts into his nix form, blue scales covering his body from head to toe, a crown of coral resting over his brow. His chest heaves with rage. “I will make her love me once you’re dead.” With that, he charges forward, sharp fingers outstretched with serrated webs in between.
I shift into a defensive posture, one dagger ready to swipe out in an arc, the other prepared to plunge straight into him, flames dancing over my body, hungry for his scales.
A flash of brown charges between us, knocking Cobalt down in the process. Aspen slashes his antlers into his brother. Where Aspen is ferocious, Cobalt is fast. He manages to roll out from under Aspen’s enormous hooves, swiping a gash in the stag’s leg in the process. Aspen doesn’t falter, charging his brother with every retreat, pursuing him on and on until they take their fight to the other side of the dune.
My heart lurches, begging me to follow and see that Aspen is unharmed, perhaps even help him end Cobalt for good. But my attention snags on my sister’s lifeless form. I return my blades to their sheaths and run to her side. Kneeling next to her, my fingers rush to check her pulse, finding it slow but steady. Then, taking her face in my hands, I slap her lightly on the cheeks. “Amelie. Amelie, wake up.” There’s no command in my voice, only urgency.
Finally, she begins to stir, eyelids fluttering open as she gasps for air. She mumbles, movements unsteady as she attempts to sit. It takes me a few moments to understand what she’s trying to say. Then her words become clearer. “Where is he?”
“Cobalt? Aspen is fighting him. Are you all right?”
She succeeds at pushing herself up to sit and wipes the back of her hand across her mouth, smearing the blood that had dribbled down her face. Her chest caves in as she struggles to catch her breath, eyes unfocused. Then, with a snarl, her gaze narrows on me. “How could you do that to me?”
For a moment, I’m caught off guard. She’s hardly shown an ounce of anger toward me since she first arrived at Lunar. I furrow my brow. “I’m sorry. I should have been the first to revoke my orders, but I didn’t trust that he’d do so after I did.”
“Not that,” she says through her teeth. “You ordered me to kill him.”
I lean back, fury heating my cheeks. “You’re upset with me because ofthat? Because I ordered the very thing you’ve been begging me to let you do?” I rise to my feet and stare down at her. “After everything you said, you love him, don’t you?”
“Ihatehim,” she snaps. “And you had no right to rob me of the right to kill him with a clear mind. I told you, I want to see the life leave his eyes. I want to remember it forever. How can I do that if I’m trapped beneath the haze of your commands?”
My fury cools in the shadow of hers. In this moment, her rage is chilling, making her look so unlike the Amelie of my childhood. She’s a feral creature, one hungry for blood and vengeance. It’s enough to make my heart plummet. When I speak, my words come out strained. “Ami, this isn’t the life for you.”
“What do you know about it, Evie?” She rises angrily to her feet to face me eye-to-eye. “You’ve killed in self-defense. You’ve ended lives of terrible people. I’ve beenforcedto kill. For once, I want to kill of my own free will.”
I shake my head. “It won’t make you feel better.”
“Is that why you tried to hunt down Mr. Duveau after Mother died? Why you burned down a brothel when you couldn’t find him? Because itdidn’tfeel good?”
A rush of guilt turns in my stomach. “How did you hear about that?”
She lets out a bitter laugh. “I may have lost half my mind, but I’m not stupid.”
I clench my jaw, wondering if this is yet another piece of information shared by Foxglove or Lorelei. “Mind your own—”
“Oh look, you found each other,” says a haughty, feminine voice.
I whirl to find Queen Dahlia, sauntering up to us, a tiny purple pixie hovering at her shoulder. The pixie carries a bright yellow flower that’s almost as big as her, but my attention is pulled to the wound I gave the queen. The hilt of the iron blade I buried in her gut has been removed, the lesion bandaged. Her complexion is a little green, but she seems otherwise unharmed.
A rush of surprise washes through me. Who would have been able to tend to an iron wound so quickly? I figured the fae would have enough trouble removing the blade in the first place.
I reach inside my dress to retrieve a dagger, but a sudden puff of yellow dust obscures my vision. Gripping the hilt of my weapon, I blink rapidly to clear my eyes, seek out Dahlia. When the dust finally settles, everything around me begins to blur at the edges. Dahlia’s pixie companion hovers before me, a mischievous smile on her tiny lips, flourishing the yellow flower in her hands.
That’s the last thing I see.
26
Ijolt awake into a world of agonizing pain. My mind feels slow, heavy, and all I can sense is cold. It burns my skin worse than any fire could, chilling me to my bones, my blood. My very soul.
My vision blurs as I pry my eyes open, blinking into whatever nightmare I’ve awoken to. When my sight begins to clear, adjusting to the semi-darkness of the room I’m in, I find the lower half of my body is submerged in icy water. It’s contained in an elongated tub, like the troughs I’ve seen on the farms in Eisleigh. Ropes tie my ankles together and bind each of my wrists to handles on opposite sides of the tub. Panic surges through me as I whip my head from side to side. All I see are solid walls, a barred door, and my unconscious sister in the same predicament as I’m in, her tub just a few feet from mine.
It’s clear now that we’re trapped in a prison. A dungeon. And the ice-cold water tells me our captors have every intention of suppressing my powers.
My teeth chatter as I yank my wrists as hard as I can. It’s no use, of course. I hardly have strength in my limbs to move, and the bindings are tied tight.
To my horror, my movement seems to stir a previously unnoticed presence, a dark silhouette leaning against the wall. I bite back a scream until my eyes fall on the shape of antlers. A sob of relief crawls from my throat as Aspen pushes off the wall and races to my side. “For the love of oak and ivy, you’re awake.” Warm hands move to my cheeks, and I nearly moan at the comfort they bring me.
“Get me out of here.” My words come out weak, jagged through my chattering teeth.
