“Birdy, listen to me. She didn’t?—”
“You always defend her!” Wrenley shrieks, then storms over to me, eyes blazing up at me. But tears shine there too, threatening to fall. “You know I was the one who shot Dayton, don’t you? Blasted a hole straight through his ribs.” She smacks me hard on my chest. “Boom! And do you know why I did it?”
“Mother told you to,” I say, mouth dry.
I’ve never heard such venom in her voice. “Yes, Mother told me to. And what you don’t know, big brother, is when Mother tells me something, she gets in my head.Right. In. It.And I don’t have a choice. I don’t even have any fucking thoughts anymore! I’m her puppet, her instrument. Her weapon.”
My breath catches. The words hit me like a punch to the chest, stealing the air from my lungs. I can only stare at her, horrified, my mind scrambling to process what she’s said. “W-what? Why?”
“Because your beloved Aurelia, my birth mother, made a bargain. So now, Sira controls me. Anything she wants, she says the word, and I’ll fall in line.” Tears pour down her cheeks. “I thought I could prove myself to Sira. Earn her trust and my independence. But I’ll never be what Sira wants. Never be what anyone wants.”
My lips part, but no sound comes out—there’s nothing I can say to this. Nothing that could make it better. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She chokes out a harsh laugh. “What would you have done? Killed Sira? She’s your mother.”
“You’re my sister.” I pull her to my chest, wrapping her as tight as I can, wishing I could keep her safe with me forever. “I choose you, Wrenley.”
A full-on sob escapes her as she burrows her head against me. Wetness drips over my skin from her tears. “I didn’t want to do it, Cas. I didn’t want to shoot him.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Ezryn is right. Give up the bow. It’s not your fault, Birdy, but if Sira can order you to use it whenever she wants, you’re unstoppable.”
Wrenley stills in my arms, then pulls away. Her eyes are red, face set in a grimace. “This bow is my only chance of freedom. I’m going to kill her, Cas. Nothing will stand in my way. Not even you.”
I know that tone of voice. There’s no room to argue, no space for hope. She’s already gone. All that’s left is the hollow ache of knowing I’ve lost her—and that I might never get her back.
Slowly, I turn and look at the keep. My only chance—Wrenley’s chance—lies in there with the people who hate us most.
Wrenley takes a shuddering breath, then grabs my hand and brings it to her lips for a quick kiss. “Take care of yourself, brother.”
I clench my hands into fists to stop from grabbing her and never letting go. “Stars, I wish I could have taken care of you.”
Wrenley tucks a fabric mask over the lower half of her face, resuming the appearance of the Nightingale. Prismatic briars crack through the frozen earth and wrap around her body. But before she disappears, she reaches into her bag and tosses me something. “Here. Aurelia told me to give this to you. Said it would help, whatever that means.”
I glance down, heart stuttering. In my hands is a small, carved wooden camel. When I look back up at my sister, she’s gone.
The last bit of energy left in my bones dissipates, and I fall to the snow. And I don’t bother trying to hold back the sob of agony that shakes my whole body. Pain. All I feel is pain. The burningmemory of the cage, a weariness so deep, I don’t know if I’ll ever recover. Knowing Birdy’s going off alone…
I have endured and endured and endured my entire life. If Sira kills…no,whenSira kills my little sister, it will shatter what remains, and I cannot imagine having the resolve to piece myself back together.
A shadow trembles over me, and I blink up. Ezryn looks down, his face that unreadable mask.
I should tell him to kill me. To put me out of this misery, like he’s wanted to for years.
But instead, I whisper, “I have nowhere else to go.”
He stays silent for a long moment. Then Ezryn reaches down his hand.
This fight isn’t over. My mate awaits me in the keep where I first lost everything. I guess I’ll have to endure a little more.
I take his hand and rise.
16
Rosalina
My fingers tap on the page, the same one I’ve been on for thelast fifteen minutes. I can’t even read without thinking of the cursed Autumn wing, the green flames, and Castletree falling apart.
I sit in Keep Wolfhelm’s library on a plush armchair near the fire, though the warmth barely touches the biting chill that lingers in the air. The walls are vast panes of crystal etched with frostwork patterns that glimmer in the low light, like frozen vines creeping in intricate spirals. Shelves carved from ice rise up, filled with books bound in pale leather and shimmering metals, their spines sparkling as if dusted with frost.
