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Natalie narrowed her eyes as she looked between the two of us, like she was trying to figure out if Sloane was joking. I kept my face carefully blank before it could let my thoughts out in the open too much.

“Maybe one every Rite. Some, there have been no omegas left after the alphas walk Magefall.” She pursed her lips and then sighed. “Do not worry yourselves over it. It has been a very long time since sisters were brought into the Rite together. I doubt you will be left unchosen.”

Without another word, she unfolded a blanket on the other cot before doing the same to the one we perched on, laying it out behind us with more expedience than precision. When she was finished, she left the tent, closing the flaps until nothing of the night outside was visible to us.

7

AMETHYST

“So we shouldn’t get picked,” Sloane said with a sudden conviction, like it was clear what the best course of action was. She pushed away from me, adjusting her cloak and then messing with her leather shoes, untying the small straps and pulling them off her feet. “That way they’ll send us back home. We can pretend the last several days were just a fever dream.”

I covered my eyes, trying to decide if I should burst her bubble of hope now or wait until we’d eaten whatever they’d brought us. Food won out.

I eased off the cot and pulled one of the trays until it was within Sloane’s easy reach. She stared at it, picking at the strands of her hair. The food was nearly identical to what Lillian had given us, though this bread was more stale, and there was an additional item that looked like a chopped eggplant but tasted more like an artichoke. Sloane frowned as she tasted it.

“That’s… strange,” she said, her nose scrunching. “Not bad. Just strange.”

It was, but if I closed my eyes so I couldn’t get caught up in the odd sight, it tasted like a really good summer afternoon spent on the balcony of our shoebox apartment in the heart of Phoenix. The thought made me want to cry, and crying would only make my head hurt more, so I shoved down the feeling. Despite it only being a few hours at most since Lillian had given us food, I made sure to clear the tray, Natalie’s warning still echoing in my mind.

Sloane ate quietly beside me, her thigh pressing into my shoulder every few minutes for unspoken reassurance. When the food was gone, I braved voicing my pessimism. I turned toward her, taking her in, the firelight from the jar casting her features in stark relief. It made us look more similar than we truly were. Where my hair was a deep black, hers was a medium, warm brown. Her face was rounder, softer than mine, too, with freckles along her nose and cheekbones that nearly matched her hair. Our eyes were the same, though, a pale gray I’d never seen on anyone else.

My voice was only a whisper.

“I… don’t know if we can go back.”

Sloane frowned, setting the last bit of bread back on her tray.

“Why wouldn’t we? We got here, after all.”

“Lillian…” I sighed. “When I asked, she didn’t know anything about Maine or America. She thought I meant some place called Marish. When I told her that that wasn’t what I meant, she asked if I was from some place called the Far Lands.”

Sloane’s face paled in the firelight. She slowly eased off the cot and onto the uneven canvas floor beside me.

“So we go into this Magefall place and get picked by someone. An alpha, I think the robed person said? Or we don’t get picked and they send us to this Far Lands place?” She crossed her arms and palmed her shoulders, pursing her lips. “I don’t think I like that option.”

“Which one?” I rested my head on my knee and let my eyes close again.

“Being sent to another unknown place.” She said it like it was obvious. “If this is like The Bachelor, then the people coming to choose or whatever are probably wealthy. I think I’d rather risk it with one of them.”

I couldn’t keep back my grimace. “Wealthy doesn’t mean moral.”

Sloane sighed. “Yeah, okay, that’s a good point.” She shifted next to me, then her fingers were tracing my cheek. “I don’t know, Mimi,” she whispered. “Both options seem pretty awful. But if there’s any chance of getting back home, it’s going to be with the rich guys. Nothing opens doors like a man with money.”

I cracked my eyes open to thin slits.

“What do you know about rich men opening doors?”

She blushed but shook her head. “I’ve just seen more than one come through the studio with enough power to make things happen in a flurry.”

My eyes closed again. I let the throbbing of my head be the only thing I focused on for a long few minutes.

“You really think there’s a chance?” I finally asked.

“There was a way to get us here, wherever here actually is. Logic would say there’s a way back, too.”

She didn’t say anything else, and I rolled my head, tucking it between my knees and squeezing my temples. Her hand slowly traced down my spine, her touch featherlight.

“How bad is it?”