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Nightmare. I repeat the word in my head as I follow him, studying the way his dark curls kiss the nape of his neck, the way he keeps his stance casual but ready, the grip of his hand on his sword, the way he moves, the way he breathes. I shouldn’t know these things about him, shouldn’t like these things about him. But those little pieces of my shattered heart ache when he’s near, when he gives me that easy smile, not the one he saves for winning over teachers—his real smile. Dimples and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

I have to look away from him.

Something shifts in the corner of my eye, and my body whips that direction. One of the dummies has turned, no longer in line with the others. Its eyeless face is now set straight toward us.

And then all the dummies turn toward us as one.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Ipull the Light to my scythe, receding into that coldly logical place in my mind. Neither of us dares to speak or move, keeping our eyes fixated on the dummies, watching for any movement, waiting for attack.

I see something shift in the shadows. Quick as a raven. Silent as a serpent. I whirl in that direction, and it’s gone. Lonan watches with me, eyes darting between the rows of dummies. Another blur of movement, this time on the other side of the room. My eyes flit about frantically. My palm turns sweaty as it grips my scythe.

Deep laughter echoes through the room. “You two are fun to play with.” Galvin emerges from the shadows at the end of the hall. Saints, he looks—sane. None of that monster that bit my neck is present now. He’s so clearly Lonan’s twin as he paces toward us, only missing a pair of wire glasses and a scar carving up his neck. But the way they hold themselves, the way they move, is so different. Galvin has none of that slickness, that smooth grace that is purely Lonan, and none of the intensity. Lonan is a knife in the dark, slipped between the ribs before you even know you’re in danger. But Galvin is the fall of the guillotine—public and devastating in his brutality.

And still, still, the moment I see him, something in my chest jerks toward him—drawn, infatuated, needy. Like if I just let myself go to him, it will be like the cooling of rain on a wildfire.

Something dangerous flickers in Galvin’s expression. “Don’t you dare take what is mine, Lonan.”

“She’s not your damned rabbit,” Lonan says.

It was the wrong thing to say—not for Galvin’s sake, but for mine. Because I remember all too well what Lonan did to that rabbit.

Galvin bares his teeth, white fangs glinting in the moonlight. “You have this entire school against you,” Galvin says. “I’m here as a reckoning, Lonan. You’ve been left on your own for too long, creeping in the shadows. Growing like a weed, choking out the Light.”

“You’re a siphon.” My words catch all three of us off guard. “You betrayed the Light. You betrayed Gault.”

Something cold passes over Galvin’s face. That warmth, that sense of home—it’s gone, now replaced with an expression that lacks all feeling, all empathy. It raises the hairs on the back of my neck.

“So this is what you’ve chosen,” he says. “I should have known better. The way you look at him—I should’ve known you’d choose him.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. More than that, I can’t believe the words that fall from my lips next. “I chose him long before tonight.”

Lonan’s focus snaps to me. But this isn’t really about him. This is about Galvin, the greed in his eyes. Nothing makes me want to strip a man of his ego more than entitlement.

Galvin’s lips curl. Hurt and hate burn in his eyes. “Treacherous bitch.”

“Monster.”

Like my words have triggered the fiend within, he hisses, his elongated canines jutting over his lip.

I’ve hidden the stake in the pocket of my dress. All I have to do is get close enough. Then this nightmare will be over. But there’s no desire burning in Galvin’s eyes now. No, this is pure loathing.

I know the passion and chaos of the Dark, and I see it in Galvin now. He would burn the world, annihilate all his plans, destroy the Ridding, and risk his throne to see me face the consequences of rejecting him. This is a man used to getting what he wants, just like his father. When King Marcel lost the heart of his queen to my godfather, the king tore magic in two. And as Galvin witnesses his bloodmate choose someone else, I know he’s capable of the same destruction. Whoever said there’s no fury like a woman scorned never saw the detonation of a man spurned by a woman.

But such men are stupid. And I can use that.

“You think I belong to you?” I step toward Galvin, away from Lonan, passing by the rows of practice dummies. I let my eyes rove over him in a cruel assessment. “You can’t possess a thing you’re too weak to control.”

Galvin barbs instantly. “The crone said—”

I laugh at him. “You believe everything some frail old woman tells you? Delightful. Honestly, I love a man who takes orders.” I spin my scythe in my hand and relish the rage igniting in his eyes.

“I am the Crown Prince of Gault. I am the future of the Illuminated Kingdom. And you—”

“Are more than willing to bring you to heel if that’s what you crave. Bark, puppy.”

He does not bark. He looks at me like he wants to display my bones on his castle gates.