“Astrid, what does it mean?” Skylar grabs her shoulders, shakes her. Astrid tears her gaze from the ring and looks at Skylar, lips quivering.
“Skylar, I’m so sorry.” The ring drops with a ping to the ground. They both watch it as it spins, then lands flat and still, right by the point of the dagger. “Cam. He’s dead.”
43Skylar
Silence stretches between them as Skylar stares at Astrid.
Cam. He’s dead.
“No,” she says. Astrid doesn’t say anything, but Skylar can see the sympathy swelling in her eyes. She closes her own so she doesn’t have to look at it, because that is only going to make it real and itcan’tbe real, not after weeks and weeks of…
“No,” she repeats. “You’re wrong.” She feels Astrid’s warm hand take her own and snatches it away.
“Skylar, I’m—”
“Don’t,” she snaps. She doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want apologies or condolences orsympathy. She wants this not to be real. She wants Astrid to tell her there’s a chance, that they’ll try the spell again. But she doesn’t.
An awful chill spreads through her, the opposite to the crackling energy she so often feels. “I’ll kill them.” Her words are dark, lethal. And it’s so obvious—that’s what she has to do. Cam is dead. So she’ll kill the people responsible.
She strides off the balcony and back into Astrid’s room, heading for the door to the corridor, when a hand comes out to grab her shoulder. “Skylar, what are you—?”
She shrugs off Astrid’s hand and starts toward the door again—only to find a massive winged panther blocking her path. At her sides, her fingers twitch. She can feel the power thrumming from Bastet. She could take it. Take it—and turn the entire castle to rubble.
“Skylar,” Astrid says again, and Skylar can hear the attempt to reason with her. “You can’t just kill them. And who, exactly? The king?”
Skylar turns to Astrid, showing Bastet her back. If he goes for her, she’s ready. “The king. The queen. All of them.” Astrid balks at that—and Skylar wonders why. They’re her enemies, too, aren’t they? She shouldwantthis.
She makes to leave again and Bastet growls at her, his gaze traveling up and down the length of her. She knows what he’s doing. Assessing her weak spots. Maybe wondering if he’ll be quick enough.
He won’t be.
“Skylar,” Astrid says, a hint of a tremble there. “Please don’t do this. You can’t beat them all. You’ll die trying.”
“I don’t care.” And she doesn’t. Death would be welcome at this point—an oblivion to sink into. Especially if she takes them with her. Zachary. Ottilie. Zryan. Axel. All of them. Anyone in this castle who sat by and let Cam be taken. Killed.
“Even about me?” It’s a small voice, but it sounds loud in the quiet room. Skylar hesitates, glancing behind her. Astrid’s gaze is waiting for her. “If they kill you, Skylar—or if you die in the process of killingthem—I’ll die.”
You’re dead anyway.She only just catches the words before they’re out. Before she sees Astrid, kneeling in front of Jessa. Sees her stepping in front of Zryan, to save him. Hot air scorches the back of her throat with the next breath she takes.
She’ll beat them. She knows, in this moment, that she can.
But what if she can’t?
Kaida pokes her head from around Bastet’s tail. Skylar almost forgot she was there.
Skylar mad?It’s tentative in her mind—almost like Kaida is scared to speak up.
Another horrible, scorching breath. Skylar closes her eyes.
“We will find out who is responsible,” Astrid murmurs. “We’ll find out—and we’ll make them pay.”
She opens her eyes—and hears the rest of Astrid’s words in her mind.
I promise you, Skylar. But not like this.
Her heart is pounding, urging her on, urging her to ignore Astrid and toact.
But she can’t. She can’t sacrifice Astrid like this for no reason, can’t leave Kaida. So she nods.
