Cason had added five more braids to her ponytail after that.Just for practice, he’d said.
Still, he was quieter than usual.
Sure, it had been a relief—and quite literally a life saver—that the experiments the Anfroy army were running had made people with no magic react poorly to hellthorn. But she could see in Cason’s eyes that he knew something didn’t add up. That there was still something just out of reach he wasn’t quite getting.
It was just a matter of time before it clicked.
And, four hells, she was not prepared for that moment. Not anymore. Not after he’d looked at her weakened body and beenterrifiedfor her.
Not when he’d looked at her and seemed prepared to speak those gods-damned lethal words. The ones they could never take back.
Brela was also not prepared for what she’d find when she led Cason down the hallway to the hidden bunker underneath.
She’d barely made it out of the hallway—Cason holding her hand to keep her from shaking too badly in the small space—when Elias nearly tackled her to the ground. It was a miracle Cason kept them both from crashing back into the darkness.
“Go easy on me, El,” she grunted through his grip. He only squeezed tighter.
Farrah was only a step behind, nearly leaping on top of them both. “Gods, Brela. You look like at least two hells, maybe three.”
“What?” Elias blurted, untangling himself from the hug as he gripped her shoulders. His eyes focused on her cheek. “I told you not to do anything stupid.”
Brela just blinked at his swollen jaw, cupping her hand on his chin. “And you were supposed to have the easier mission. Why the hells do we have matching bruises? What happened with Oni?”
The looks on their faces did not help the churning in her gut.
Farrah swallowed. “He’s fine. He got in and out and has hopefully already delivered the message to Severina.”
“We just had a small disagreement over some things, like sending you to an Anfroy military camp,” Elias said, eyes darting to the far wall.
Brela raised her brow at the massive hole in the stone and the equally damaged floor underneath. She narrowed her eyes on Elias. “Looks like it wasn’tsmall.”
“Looks like you didn’t have a smooth escape,” Farrah whispered, her thumb brushing over Brela’s cheek. Ice soothed the throbbing as her healing magic eased the swelling. “What happened, love?”
“I may have fallen face first off my horse because of hellthorn.”
Both Farrah and Elias stiffened and stared at her.
Cason was the one to speak up. “Someone, or perhaps three someones, decided not to tell us that hellthorn is poisonous to Brela thanks to that shard.”
Brela glanced to the two men on the other side of the room, and her stomach nearly dropped to the floor.
The prince…that look.
The realization didn’t just trickle in. It was a face-first-off-a-horse type of feeling. The hole in the stone made sense. The bruise on Elias’s jaw, too. Serill’s panicked eyes darting from Cason to Brela—trying to fill in the blanks—made sense.
He knew.
He knew. He knew. He knew.
It was bound to happen. He was too clever, but she hadn’t planned on Oni doing something stupid. Hadn’t planned on the prince figuring it out while they were all still together.
Elias’s hand slid to her lower back. Careful, cautious, and a steadying force for her now trembling body. “Why don’t you explain your story first?”
She took a breath. Two.
“We got into the camp without issue,” she began, voice already trembling. “We got the information on the drills and weapons, and as we were leaving, we stumbled into a tent… with a prisoner.”
“They’re running experiments on Veil Worshippers,” Cason said, finishing for her like he knew she wouldn’t be able to do it herself. “Injecting them with obsidian in the hopes they can get through the wall. Except mixing it in their system makes them vulnerable to hellthorn, similar to that shard in Brela’s collarbone.”
