“Youhavemy brothers?” My gut churned as I twisted out of his grip. “What does that mean, Orin?”
His gaze turned pleading, but I could see it now: the tension straining the sides of his emerald eyes, the twitch to his brow, and the uneasy shift of his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry, Edira. I didn’t mean it like that. A lot has happened in such a short amount of time, and I’m not handling this well. Once we do the ceremony—”
“You’ll be aFernglove,” Rorik interjected. His eyes shone with so much heat and despair that I couldn’t help but freeze. “The vow, Edira. Even with his power, you’d still answer to him.”
My knees went weak at his words. This fuckingevervow. I needed Orin’s power to save my brothers, but I couldn’t get that without heartbonding to him. And then I’d be beholden to the vow and unable to speak the fucking name to break the damn thing.
But if I played my hand now and shouted the name, Rorik would be free to act as he wished, to pummel Orin into oblivion like he so obviously desired. But to what end? I’d have no magic to save my brothers. Their caskets would be nothing but a memorythe moment I acted against Orin’s wishes, and the blight feasting on their bones would finally finish its meal.
As I spiraled in silence, Orin went impossibly still. He stood there, unmoving, long enough for me to question whether he had mastered a way to erase his breath entirely. And then rage crashed over his expression as he pulled back his lips in a vicious snarl. He pushed me behind him to seethe at Rorik.
“You told her. How?”
“Youtold her.” A dangerous, fang-clad smile filled Rorik’s face. “She overheard you the other night, when we were discussing the Starglens.”
Orin’s fingers twitched. “You’ve manipulated her for far too long.”
“Have I now?” Anger glinted in Rorik’s eyes. “That’s fascinating.”
“How much do you know?” Orin leveled me with his stare. The manor trembled beneath our feet as roots shot through the floorboards and tangled in an intricate web. Thorns pushed through the bark and surrounded us like daggers.
Fear spiked in my throat at the violent display of power. “I know enough.”
“I’m guessing this wasn’t part of your elaborate plan.” Rorik grinned. “Pity.”
“Silence!” Orin roared. He stepped into the mess of still-growing roots, not caring that the barbs tore at his pants and nicked his skin. “I will end you.”
“You can try.” Rorik seemed to delight in Orin’s rage, and he only uncrossed his arms to thrust them wide. “I’m right here.”
That was the only invitation Orin needed. He moved so fast I barely caught the movement. One moment he was there, and the next he’d slammed into Rorik with such force that they went crashing into the wall. The house groaned at the sudden impact, and rotted debris began to crumble around them.
“Edira!” Rorik shouted from beneath his brother’s form. “Get out!”
I couldn’t glimpse either of their faces. The house had started to collapse, and plumes of yellow dust filled the air and my lungs. All around us the walls caved in. Picture frames crashed to the floor and glass shards skittered against the wood. Screams crested from somewhere outside the manor, and through one of the now empty window frames I saw attendants fleeing across the trembling lawns. They’d likely all left when Seville first tore away the glamour and were waiting to return, but now with the ground caving in, they were racing away from it all. Only one person ran into the foyer, into the thick of the blight and Orin’s raging magic. Vora.
“We need to get my brothers!” I shouted, and she spurred into motion in the direction of their quarters. I took off after her to help, but a wayward root covered in sharp barbs erupted from the ground to decimate the stairs behind her. I only prayed she’d get there before the whole manor fell. All around me, vines writhed and thrashed as if they were beasts. They lashed into me, leaving welts and bloody scrapes along my skin. With each biting slap I winced in pain, but the creaking whine of the house was all that mattered.
I stumbled over the puckered roots and fell into a bed of thorns. They wormed into the soft flesh of my stomach and punctured my arms, my legs. Even one of my cheeks. Pain arced through my body as I forced myself up. One thorn broke off and remained lodged in my thigh, and I dragged my leg behind me. There had to be another way upstairs, another way to get to my brothers. But already the ceiling was crumbling, and I froze as a chandelier came loose from the rafters just above my head.
I didn’t know where Rorik came from. Just that he’d somehow thrown Orin off him and wrapped a single arm around my waist,yanking me out of the way. The chandelier exploded in a violent spray of crystal shards, and Rorik rushed us outside through a hole in the wall. The entryway crashed behind us, and he lunged several feet away from the crumbling manor. A flicker of relief touched his eyes as he scoured my face.
And then Orin slammed his fist into Rorik’s temple.
Rorik flew back, but he found his feet quickly and tore toward Orin. They collided with unrestricted violence, both of them snarling as their fists connected with flesh.
“Stop!” I screamed, but they didn’t hear me. No one could hear anything over the collapse of the manor. Bony trees stripped of color and leaves punctured the earth and sliced into the house like blades. Windows shattered as their jagged limbs kept growing, and the roof cracked as one monstrous, barren oak punctured the beams and climbed toward the sun. Fissures splintered the earth and blight poured out in a flood, coating everything in loam and sludge. I stared in horror as Rorik and Orin continued to pummel each other.
They couldn’t seriously harm each other. The evervow wouldn’t let them. But how long would this go on before the magic kicked in? My heart pounded as I ran. Blood spilled from the wound in my thigh, but I ignored the burning rush of pain and the dots blooming across my vision.
I got to Orin first and threw myself at him. He pushed me aside as if I were no more than a stubborn cattail battering against his calf in a mild breeze. I hit the ground and rolled, drenching myself in blight and coughing as spores filled my lungs.
“Edira!” Rorik was at my side, hoisting me up.
“Get away from her!” Orin snarled. Anger fueled the blight at his feet, and ripples formed across the bubbling surface as if he were the center of a storm. “You should’ve stayed away. You’ve ruined enough.”
“You think I want to be here? Surrounded by people I loathe?” Rorik refused to move from my side. Cuts lined his biceps and blood oozed from a gash on his chest. But not for long. Blight saw an opportunity to strike, and it didn’t hesitate. The hungry maws of the tar-like substance crawled over his skin and settled in the gashes. And from it birthed yellow loam and pustules poised to erupt and spread more sickness. If Rorik was in pain, he didn’t show it.
In my peripheral vision, I spotted Vora off the side of the house, my brothers’ floating caskets before her. She was pushing them away from the debris, and adrenaline surged through me at the sight. I raced toward her as quickly as my injured leg would allow and thrust my body weight against Noam’s coffin. Vora nodded but said nothing as she focused on moving Nohr. How she’d managed to get them down the gloomy, tight staircase at the back of the house baffled me, but I was grateful she did.
