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Now, it was best to lay low… at least stay away from his father anyway. Let any suspicion fade.

Oleander turned to Perine as she stomped out of the water beside him. She pulled a whistle from her satchel, blowing it a few times before turning back to him with a wry smile. “So, your sister’s a tree then.”

The words hit Oleander like a punch to the gut. He felt like crying, but instead, he blew out a long breath to steady himself. “Seems to be the case, yeah.”

Then she was smothering him with a hug, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

After a long moment he pulled back, wiping his hand across his face and forcing a grin. “Next time you see me, I expect plenty of lecherous glances.”

“Oh, most definitely,” she said, her voice light, but when she looked at him, the familiar warmth in her gaze was shadowed by a deep, shared sadness. It was clear she might cry, too.

That thought struck him harder than he expected. He couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her cry, so he pulled her into his arms, clinging to her tightly.

She brushed a soft kiss on his bicep, her lips lingering there as though she couldn’t help it. Oleander kissed her forehead, a gentle promise, as if it were the last thing he might ever do.

Later, when Perine slipped back into the shadows, sneaking away on the back of her hellcat, Oleander let his tears fall, quietly scalding his face as he walked alone.

In the moonlight, he moved like a shade through the chaos, slipping past demonkind and magical beings, all desperate to find their way home.

He dashed to his room, quickly changing into dry clothes and grabbing a bag packed with essentials. Then, he slipped off into the night, just like Perine.

Chapter

Thirty-Seven

PERINE WILDER

Pale, acrid sunlight woke Peri the next morning. She’d barely slept more than an hour or two, yet a frantic energy coursed through her. She needed to return the earring soon. Possibly today.

Only now that she actually had the earring in her hands, something told her not to rush into this without at least consulting someone better versed in bargaining with the powerful beings of Hell. Wisteria’s warning clanged inside her, insistent and overwhelming.

Zila had been curled up next to her, and almost as if they were of one mind, they were springing from her bed, and sneaking out of her home. Then they were racing through vast, tawny fields, wind whipping around them on their way to the Void.

Her heart fluttered with hope that in a short time she would no longer be alone in this mess.

The future was a dangerous thing to imagine, especially when hers had begun to seem like a windowless room with no way out. And yet, against all reason, she was beginning to wonder if there might truly be a world where she and Oleander could choose each other. A world where her life was not merely something to survive, but something to chase—filled with impossible maps, forbidden wonders, and discoveries so magnificent they could forget all that they’d suffered.

Only, when Zila leaped into the dark expanse of the Void Peri was thrown from her back—kept firmly in the Holy Circle.

The depths of the Void were mere footsteps away, yet now suddenly, they felt painfully distant.

Her anxiety coiled tightly around her—She could no longer leave! The magic from the rune Oleander had put upon her shoulder had faded at last.

She sat in the grass, fighting back rage filled tears as Zila turned around to collect her and take her home once more.

The spark of hope that had once kindled within her was extinguished then, utterly and without mercy, leaving only misery in its wake.

She did not know how to move on.

Any healthy coping mechanisms that she’d ever honed left her as despair ravaged her heart. Instead she curled up in her favourite reading chair and let every panicked thought consume her until she was a spiralling mess.

The room grew smaller around her and her chest felt so tight that she couldn’t breathe. Darkness tugged at the edges of her vision.

If she couldn’t reign in her panic she was going to pass out. She clutched her arms around herself and tried to pretend somebody was hugging her.

Her vision wobbled and spun, the vignette of darkness growing more pronounced. Swells of panic clawing deeper into her. Her shallow breaths came too quickly and were only growing more ragged with every passing second.

Focus! She told herself desperately. Think of one thing—just one!—that you could feasibly do to help yourself.