I forced myself to back away. When her wrath ebbed into unease, I knew I needed to keep busy.
Slipping into my parent’s bedroom, I searched through all my mother’s handbags and purses, checking every inch of their insides. Excitement strummed my heartbeat faster when my fingers traced over a secret compartment sewn into the inner lining of a handbag…
…and I found it. The stone from my dream. The one my mother had pinched between her fingertips.
This time it was round and flat and utterly ordinary.
Not even a hint of a reddish glow.
I tucked it into my pocket and returned to the tower, diving into the list of births within the Houses. For the last few hours, I’d cross-referenced every name against every quality or curiosity I could imagine…and found nothing. I was continually hitting a brick wall.
Frustrated, I snatched up one of my magazines and shredded it in half, much like I’d done the night I signed the Alverac in Byron’s office. I’d torn a page from a ledger while my father had leveraged Nelle’s age to align with the Witches Ball.
Origami was something I’d picked up as a teenager living alone within the tower. It calmed all the riotous emotions tumbling inside my mind. However, tonight, even perfecting folds of paper couldn’t quiet the worry lodged beneath my skin.
Nelle is brave and clever. She’ll be alright.
When I finally heard the patter of footfall on cobblestone and the huff of a wraith-wolf, relief unknotted muscles. I kept myself braced on the railing instead of running to meet her. Though I concentrated on transforming the glossy page in my hands, I had no idea what I was crafting. My fingers were working of their own accord.
A few minutes later, the heavy door swung open. Nelle boldly walked in as if she owned the tower. I’d left the lights on for her, and they bathed her in pale gold as she yawned and stretched,the cream shawl slipping off a shoulder. Ringlets bounced around her cheekbones as she crossed the room.
Her gaze found me through the open cut in the wall where wild magic shivered. When her sleepy features hardened, I knew she was still festering over the way I’d walked in on her in the bathroom and witnessed her delight over our kiss.
“Where have you been?” I asked lightly, as if I didn’t know.
She drew to a halt in the kitchen and replied instead, “I’m going for a run tomorrow morning.” Her brow arched imperiously as she dared me to deny her. Which I had no intention of doing. My brothers would be away from the estate, and Jett, who was my biggest fucking worry, was gone for gods knew how long. He hadn’t given a reason why he left or where to. He informed us of his absence after the fact through one of our soldiers.
I nodded slowly. “Sure.”
“By myself,” she quickly added.
“Okay.”
Suspicion puckered her mouth at my apparent ease with her wandering the Keep alone. Then her shoulders stiffened. Dark lashes fluttered wide as her gaze took in what was pinched between my fingers.
I squeezed my eyes shut, mentally groaning. Even half-formed, the shape was obvious as my fingertips creased feathers into a wing, the paper bird caught mid-flight.
A loud, excitable bark shattered the silence. Sage wagged his misty tail and trotted out to paw at my leg. I leaned down, running my hands through his fur and tickling under his chin before hopping down from the balcony railing. I knew exactly what he wanted. And so did Nelle, who retrieved the wooden cutting board and a fresh silver bowl from a lower cupboard and set them on the granite countertop.
“I’ll do it,” I offered. “If you want to go to bed.”
Without meeting my gaze, she gave a jerky nod and spun away. The messenger bag swung wide and thumped on her hip as she hastened toward her bedroom. Nestling the paper bird on the counter, I squatted down in front of the small fridge, pulling open a compartment. My nose scrunched at the faint, rancid smell that clung to the carcass, while Sage bounded around in excitement, letting out an eager howl.
It was fucking disgusting, but the wraith-wolf loved anything blackened-green and writhing or slimy with decay. Unwrapping the remains, I placed it on the chopping block before withdrawing a dagger stashed inside my pocket. I thought Nelle had gone to bed, so she startled me when she snapped her fingers, the sound pitched louder than the barking.
Sage let out a whine but calmed down immediately and fell silent.
Nelle approached, rounding my tall figure. She rested a hand on the curved metal edge of the sink. “Is Rosa Lyon your aunt?”
I frowned, wondering how she had learned that.
“Jett,” she said in reply to my confusion. “I met him in the library.”
My fingers kneaded the hilt of my dagger as my body locked taut. “Are you okay?” My little brother could be a volatile asshole.
Nelle waved a hand airily, her tone coated with sarcasm. “Fine. We had a lovely conversation. He’s quite the charmer.”
A shot of blistering anger cracked down my spine. My fist drove downward fast, and the blade cleaved cleanly through the carcass with a menacingthunkas it struck the wooden cutting board. Fucking Jett.
