“So everything in the book is a lie.”
“No. It was the hunt that mattered to Caledon Cullraven. The glory of the family legacy, which fell to the subsequent generations to uphold. Sparrows and their ilk are nothing. A mere means to an end and nothing more, closer to concubinage than the sacred vows of man and wife.”
He gave Cal a cruelly studious look. “I didn’t realize how deeply you boys had internalized that part of the lore. That you thought you could pair-bond with asparrowand—what? Find love? They’re meant to be subjugated and bred, not cossetted and . . . loved.”
Cal made a sound in the back of his throat. “So you gave Noelle the green book.”
“I did. And the sparrow didn’t care much for her raven prince then, did she? No, she came for him with her little talons right in the middle of the square. It was a wake-up call for Ben, hearing the sweet songs of his little wife become the stark ravings of a madwoman.”
She wasn’t mad, Nadine thought, angry tears trickling down her face. “She wasn’t mad! Youkilledher!”
“Caledon Cullraven killed his first wife for less. When he caught her with her lover in the woods that night, he realized just how evanescent such trifling feelings are. And her fate loomed over that of his second wife in perpetuity, keeping her and all others in check. That painting in your room, my deer—did you like it? They say all Cullraven brides bleed, you know. At first.”
Nadine flinched, letting out a harsh breath.
Nathaniel gave her a grim smile. “But Evangeline didn’t love Caledon. It was fear that bonded her to him until the time of her death. That made her bear him children. Fear, and nothing else.”
“Same with grandfather?” Cal asked, his voice ice-cold. “And our grand-uncle? Them as well?”
“More sparrow-brides who needed to be culled from the flock, yes.”
Cal made a harsh sound in the back of his throat. “And what about Mother?”
“Ah yes. Corrine. Well, she is—rather uniquely obedient. And she does like her pretty house. I used to leverage you children to ensure her continued obedience, but now I think she’s simply grown used to the fear. It’s the only reason I still come to her, you know—the fear.”
“My god,” Cal said flatly. “It’s all just a twisted fucking fairytale.”
“But my, what a beautiful one. Yes, Caledon, I can see how you were blinded to it. What man doesn’t want a woman who will fall before him as one does a god?” His eyes flicked to Nadine with amusement, and things that made her cling to Cal even tighter. “Even this one, with all her pretty cowering, will not bend as easily as that. And she will turn on you. All sparrows do.”
“If you discharge that,” Cal said, “the whole town will hear it.”
“They know what day it is. What’s one more shot among many?”
Nadine felt the cold burn of metal through her dress. It was one of the bronze animal statues—the sparrow, sitting on its granite pedestal, crusted in green verdigris. She reached behind her slowly, closing her fingers around the molded head. She could feel the sharp, tiny beak pressing against her palm.
“All sparrows die when they refuse,” Nathaniel was saying. “And all sparrows refuse in the end. That’s why female Cullravens—they never inherit. Not unless they keep the family name. The blood is weak, until you raise it up. And Ravensgate needs its heirs.”
“What about your heirs then?” Cal’s voice was eerily calm. “It was Ben I shot in the woods tonight, Father. He died trying to kill my sparrow. Are you going to shoot me to get to her as well?”
“Youkilled Ben?” Nathaniel’s voice was harshly disbelieving.
“I did.”
His father growled. “He’s been counseled his whole life on how to take over the estate. What have you done, you fool—you’ve ruinedeverything.”
He drew in a sharp breath. And then another.
“Well then,” he said grimly. “If you want to be the new Master, you know the rules. What it takes to inherit. Lower thy honor and raise thy blood and thou wilt soar over heaven. Give yourself over to the pleasure that comes only from being lord of life and death. Rule with fear and nothing else. Kill the girl, and revel in it—for the pleasures of the blood exceed the flesh by far.”
Nadine threw the sparrow. It hit Nathaniel in the temple, making a visible dent in his flesh. The beak hit his forehead, and tore skin upon impact. He stopped speaking, raising a tremoring hand to the softened, bleeding part of his skull as one eye rolled partially loose in its damaged socket.
“You—cunt—” he slurred, lunging for her, brandishing the pistol in a wild arc.
Cal knocked her aside, and Nadine screamed when she hit the pedestal, and it fell, taking her with it. The pain winded her, knocking the breath from her lungs even as it jolted all of her wounds into a furious snarl of throbbing pain.
. . . oh god . . .
There was a thud as both men dragged each other to the ground. Nathaniel was a big man but age had softened him and the mud, softened and pliant from the rain, was reluctant to give up his body as he sunk into the ground with his weight, sucking down his limps and slowing his movements.
