Page 41 of Devoured

Because I lost the girl I love, my home, and my family all in one night. Because Cora stole them from me.

Because there is no justice in this horrible world unless I take it for myself.

I don’t stay to see who reaches Mikayla first.

I turn and vanish onto the third floor as torches blaze and werewolves flood the stairs. Below me, Mikayla lies frozen amid broken wood and spilled poison, eyes staring upward, unblinking, her breath shallow and her fate sealed. Cora’s rage shakes the halls—but she’s too late. And the rings on my fingers keep burning.

Eric would have told me to kill Mikayla. Nettie would have told me to compel her.

But they would’ve both been wrong because this is so much worse. Vanessa and I have just exposed Cora’s werewolves as a weakness, and now Cora knows it. She knows she isn’t invincible anymore.

17

VANESSA

THERE’S A LEAK IN THE THRONE ROOM.

Droplets of water splatter at my feet, mimicking the sharp staccato of my pulse. It wasn’t there an hour ago, as if the domed glass ceiling cracked open from the betrayal, from the anarchy of two dozen poisoned werewolves collapsing in paralyzed heaps all around the castle, and knows exactly who to blame. Luckily, no one else looks at me. No one else notices I’m here.

The scent of rot has risen, repulsively sweet now, over the mass of courtiers gathered around Cora’s throne. Most shout the name of someone unconscious, beg for answers, try shoving closer and closer to the dais. Snarls and growls echo off the walls, until the uproar threatens to burst my eardrums and splinter the ceiling even more. Some of the werewolves have hauled bodies inside too—Sera, Malachite, and the cart woman lie unconscious in the center of the aisle—but Cora doesn’t glance at them. She stares at the open doors while the Antarctic princesses and their soldiers huddle behind her.

This was an attack. A declaration of war. And Cora knows that. Everyone knows that.

I glance around at the others and try not to make eye contact with Evie. She leans against the opposite wall, as far from the throne as possible, a bored expression pinching her pink lips. Sweat stains her gray tracksuit, her hair piled messily in a claw clip as if she just returned from a run and had absolutely nothing to do with the two dozen victims.

As if we haven’t been planning this exact moment for weeks.

As if we hadn’t heard the Antarctic princesses’ arrival and decided that now would be the best time to act.

But that was before. Before I rewrote the truth and erased an innocent man. Before I stood in this very room and lost some intrinsic part of myself. And now—I don’t know where to look or what to do with my hands, and the victory I should feel has started to mangle my lungs. So I stand as still as Cora and wait for whatever comes next.

“What’s going on?” Calix demands, pushing through the masses to reach me. “What happened?”

“Don’t know,” I say to his bloodred gaze. This is the first I’ve seen him since I spotted him in the corridor outside my room, but I can’t bring myself to linger on that now. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

I hear his jaw clench, but Sin cuts through the crowd before he can say anything else. “Vanessa? Shit. Are you—are you okay? You weren’t in our—in your room. I thought you were hurt.” Sin hesitates as if he’s going to touch me, as if he needs to check my pulse to make sure I’m actually breathing, but his hands fall to his sides before he can. “Are you okay?” he repeats on a rough exhale. Then, just like Calix: “What’s going on?”

He moves away from Calix, shifting to the other side of me until I’m forced between them. The two boys don’t look at each other. They don’t even acknowledge each other’s presence. Which means their attention is directed solely at me.

Great.

I suppress a scowl. “I don’t know. I heard the commotion, and I followed the others.” The lie hastens my pulse, but in this crowded room, they can’t hear it. Thank god. “Do either of you know?”

Calix simply glares at me in response, as silent as any of the bodies on the ground, while Sin shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Calix and I were…” He shakes his head again. “Never mind.”

I startle at that. “You were together?”

My stomach rolls as I glance between them, studying their faces and bodies for evidence of another betrayal. What are they doing? Why are they doing it together? I thought they hated each other. They haven’t spoken in almost a month. Calix’s hard gaze gives nothing away, and Sin just smiles one of his easy, charming smiles. The sight of it incinerates my heart. They’re lying about something. I look deeper into Sin’s eyes, and the burgundy of his gaze begins to swim around me. Until I can almost touch it. Taste it—

No. I blink. Fast. Hard. Not again.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Did… did you do this?” I ask, because I can’t accuse them of anything else. “Did you kill those werewolves?”

A few courtiers glance our way, but Sin says smoothly, “No, Vanessa. Don’t be ridiculous. We didn’t do this, and they’re not dead.”

Truth.