My hands flew to my mouth. No, it could not be. Riyanwould never—
I looked over where Riyan fell. My blood froze and my stomach dropped. Riyan’s trembling body stood in the middle of the fallen bricks of the crumbled stone wall. His clothes were in shreds and hanging off his limbs. His hair had grown and fell to his shoulders. His muscles shook as tears streakedhis face.
Riyan was as tall as the rest of the still-standing wall—at least fifteen feet high. My head would have only reached his knee. Riyan was no longer just the height of a peasant’s house, or even merely twice my size…but the size ofa giant.
In a heartbeat I understood—Riyan’s magical blood in my veins had forced me to feel his pain, but while I stayed the same size, Riyan’s fear had turned him intoa monster.
He killed Hilda…and Nikkolas was notfar behind.
But maybe I could fix it. Maybe I could stitch Nikkolas up and he would be better. Maybe I could calm Riyandown and—
I yelped as Father hoisted me over his shoulder and ran to thekeep. “Wait!”
Father would not turn around, but I kept my eyes on Nikkolas and Hilda.
Nikkolas hissed in disdain as his shaking hands unfastened his House of Bloodstone pin. “Take it, you bastard! Take the Baronage and rot in the high hallof hell!”
With blood streaming into his eyes, Nikkolas hurled the shining golden pin at Riyan. Riyan’s watery eyes only tracked the pin for a moment, but then he looked at me as Father took me further andfurther away.
“Riy—!” I screamed, but the rest of his name disappeared from my throat the moment Nikkolas collapsed next to hisfallen wife.
I choked out a sob. The steadfast Baron and the kindly Baroness lied in a puddle of crimson, side by side, as their blood bond enchantment sent them both intoDeath’s arms.
Father hurried up the keep’s steps. Riyan blinked out a tear and then his massive shoulders turned away. His feet thundered into the earth as he sprinted toward the top of the mountain.
The keep’s doors shut in my face—Riyanwas gone.
Riyan had disappeared the moment the earth stopped shaking, but Father did not put me down. He held me on his shoulder as he ran through the fortress keep, refusing to slow down even as he climbed the spiraling stairs and ranthrough hallways.
I gripped the back of Father’s cloak as my chest rattled with dry sobs. I relived the past ten minutes over and over with each of my pounding heartbeats. Nikkolas and Hilda were dead. Riyan killed them. Riyan was fifteen feet tall. Father was no longer the Baronof Ravenwood.
Father pushed open a door with a grunt and fell to his knees. I slid from his shoulder and finally put my feet on the floor. I gripped my sleeves as I gathered my bearings. Dark bookshelves, tall windows, ashy hearth—we were in the Baron’s study.
Father panted and looked up at me with his hands on his knees. “I was not sure I would make it up those steps, but at least you aresafe now.”
“Safe?” I cried. I gestured out a window that faced the mountain. “How am I safe? My husband is the size ofa giant!”
My heart stopped. Riyan was the size of a giant. If he had nearly crushed me to death at his former height, I would not survive if we tried to consummate our marriage again. He would not even…fitinside me! An annulmentwas imminent.
Cold sweat slicked my palms, but I was too paralyzed with terror to dry them on my skirt. The safety of my marriage expired as soon as the full moon came around. Father was no longer a Baron, soanyprotection he could have given mehad vanished.
I was twenty-five days from being at the mercy of the monstrous Hytons for the rest ofmy life.
My stomach twisted and acid crawled up my throat. Before I could vomit on the bear skin rug, Father shakily rose from his knees and moved to a large oak desk near the window. He hissed an angry breath through his nose and pulled out drawerafter drawer.
My confusion forced my sicknessback down.
“Father, what are you doing?” I spat as I walked to the desk. “Nikkolas’s body is not even cold and you are riflingthrough his—”
“Was the army not the least bit suspicious, Serafina?” Father said as he yanked open a drawer. He pulled out a large black book and flipped through it—a ledger. Father tore through page after page as his eyes grew hotter with fury. “Legions of soldiers? Stockpiling enough food to feed Ravenwood for a month? He hoarded resources while mypeople suffered?”
“How dare you speak of himright after—!”
“Take a look foryourself, then!”
Father slammed the black book down on the desk with a huff. He dug in his pocket while I picked up the book and thumbed through a few pages. Sure enough, the ledger accounted for the salaries of a company of soldiers, purchases of crates of fruits and grains, and accountings of hundreds of jars of preserves, wheels of cheese, andcured meats.
The profits from the collected rents around Bloodstone did not match the exorbitant cost of Nikkolas’s army and stockpile. As I flipped through the ledger, I noticed a consistent gap in the income that was the same every year—tenthousand marks.
