Текст книги "Heartless hunter"

Автор книги: Kristen Ciccarelli

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

THIRTY-ONE RUNE

THE SEA WAS FREEZING this time of year. Rune had opened her mouth to tell him so when Gideon shucked off his shirt.

The words died on her lips.

She pulled in a sharp breath, her blood running a little hotter at the sight of his muscled shoulders and arms. She coiled her fingers into her palms, pressing the nails into the skin, trying to stop herself from tracing him with her eyes: the rigid lines of his collarbones, abdomen, hips. His skin turning honey-gold in the setting sun.

Rune tried to look away, but something on the right side of his chest dragged her eyes back: the symbol of a thorny rose encircled by a crescent moon. Rune knew it on sight. The Sister Queens had their casting signatures turned into crests, and these crests were sewn into their garments. The queens wore them embroidered on the cuffs of their shirtsleeves, impressed into their jewelry, or emblazoned across their riding cloaks.

The rose and crescent belonged to Cressida.

A tattoo?

The sound of Gideon’s pants dropping into the sand made the thought freeze in her head. She stared hard at that crest, knowing he stood almost naked before her, afraid to look anywhere else. The story he’d told still hummed through every fiber of her being. Rage and grief and shame—his voice had been full of it. And though Rune desperately wanted to believe there was another side to this story, that Gideon was twisting the truth, she couldn’t ignore that crest.

It’s not a tattoo, she realized, studying the red lines. It’s a brand.

The youngest witch queen had branded Gideon the way a farmer burns his name into an animal, so that when he lets the beast out to pasture, everyone knows it’s his and no one takes it home with them.

Cressida had permanently marked Gideon as her property.

The horror of it made Rune go cold.

“Gideon …”

Not seeing the realization dawning on her, he looped one finger into the seam of his underwear. “Last chance, Rune.”

He dropped them next.

“Oh. My. Stars.” Rune covered her eyes with her hands. “Gideon Sharpe!”

“Is that a blush coming up on your cheeks?”

The heat of his teasing chased out the cold.

“Why so bashful? Don’t tell me you’ve never taken advantage of all those suitors lining up at your door.”

Her skin burned hotter even as a smile crept across her lips. “You are the worst.”

Surprising them both, she laughed.

Rune wanted to drop her hands and look at him. Desperately. But she didn’t want to take advantage, the way another girl had. So she stayed where she was, keeping her eyes covered.

His footsteps hissed in the sand. Instead of heading for the sea, though, they moved toward her. Rune took a step back and nearly tripped over a log. Gideon’s hand grabbed her elbow, steadying her.

His breath hushed against her cheek. “Come with me.” He stood inches away. All six gorgeous feet of him. She pressed her hands harder against her face. “Don’t you want to feel the sea on your skin?”

“Absolutely not,” she said from behind her hands. “That water is freezing.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, letting her go.

The water splashed as he walked into the sea. At the sound, Rune gave in to temptation, lowered her hands, and watched him wade naked into the waves.

She tried to remember the part she was playing. But the protective mask she wore was slipping fast. Rune couldn’t pretend to be a shallow, gossipy girl after he’d bared his soul to her. She couldn’t tell herself there were two sides to this story, or that Cressida and her sisters were the actual victims.

None of what had happened to him excused what he was doing now, of course: hunting witches down, one by one; propping up a violent regime. But it helped her understand him.

“Come on, Rune. The water’s warm …”

Gideon had increased the stakes of their game tonight by telling her something deeply, painfully true. For Rune to match him, she needed to offer something equally so.

But she’d been living a lie for so long, she didn’t know if there was anything true still in her.

If I didn’t have to hide myself, she thought, who would I be?

Who was the real Rune Winters?

Not the socialite. Not the Crimson Moth. But the person deep down inside her.

Rune had been playing a part for so long, she couldn’t remember.

Once, she’d been a girl who liked to wear ribbons and silks, lace and pearls. Someone who enjoyed dancing with cute boys and gossiping with fashionable friends. A girl who took tea with Nan on the terrace and went to the opera.

But what made that girl Rune?

She thought of the portrait hanging in her bedroom. Of a wild child in a white dress trying desperately to hold in her laugh.

If that girl were all grown up, what would she be like?

What would she do?

She would accept a challenge to swim naked in a frigid sea, thought Rune. That, she knew.

Slowly, she let her shawl drop. Reaching behind her, she tugged at the laces of her dress until they loosened, then pulled the cotton fabric over her skin and dropped it in the sand.

The warm breeze kissed her bare stomach and legs.

She took off her bralette next, then her underwear. Knowing all the while that he watched from the waves.

Standing naked beneath the dying sunlight, her hair whispered across her bare shoulders. Feeling mushy compared to Gideon’s lean, muscled form, she fought the urge to cross her arms over herself as she walked down the sand toward the surf.

She wanted him to look. To search her body for scars so he could find none. Rune had plenty of ordinary scars. Everyday cuts and scrapes collected over the years. But none were the silvery kind he’d be looking for.

As she stepped into the sea, the water sent a shocking jolt of cold through her.

“You are such a liar.” She hugged herself to fend off the chill. “I think a glacier melted in here.”

Gideon laughed, splashing water in her direction. She flinched as the icy droplets scattered across her body. But she continued to wade in, taking sharp breaths as the cold crept to her knees, her thighs, her waist.

What is he thinking? she wondered, hugging her chest tighter. Is he comparing me to other girls he’s seen undressed?

She wished she could wipe the questions from her mind. Because who cared what he was thinking? Not her.

When she finally reached him, the sea was as high as her throat and her feet arched to keep her toes on the bottom of the sandy bed.

“My grandmother used to bring me here as a child,” she said, glancing at the silhouetted island in the distance, and the causeway connecting it to the shore. “She would stand on the sand and shout at me not to swim too far. She was always afraid the current would sweep me away.”

Now would be the perfect moment to bare her soul. To tell him what being raised by a witch was like. After the secrets he’d entrusted her with, though, Rune didn’t have the stomach to lie, or fake a hatred she didn’t feel. But neither could she tell him the truth.

Like a true predator, Gideon sensed her weakness.

“Turning her in must have been very hard.”

Not at all, she would have announced if they were in an opera box or a ballroom or surrounded by her friends.

But they weren’t. They were alone, and playing a new game. One that was far more dangerous for Rune than for him.

Turning Nan in wasn’t hard, she thought. It was unbearable.

Rune drew in a deep breath and risked one small, true thing.

“Nan was my best friend.” Rune glanced away from him. “She was … the person I most aspired to be like.”

The day the Republic killed her, a part of Rune died, too.

She remembered donning her finest dress that morning. Remembered brushing her hair until it shone like midsummer wheat. Nan had taught her to always look her best, no matter the occasion, and Rune had a feeling she didn’t make exceptions for public executions. Not even her own.

After pushing to the front of the angry crowd, Rune had nearly buckled at the sight of Kestrel atop the purging platform. Her hair—normally coiffed and held in place by a jeweled pin—fell in untidy strands down her face. They’d bruised her regal cheek and snuffed the bright gleam from her eyes. Someone had even ripped the sleeves off her shirt so everyone could see her casting scars.

Kestrel’s gaze was hawkish as she looked out over the sea of faces, as if she didn’t notice the way they spit at her, didn’t hear the vicious names they called her.

The moment her eyes found her granddaughter, the attention of the crowd followed.

Did you know? Rune could still hear them murmuring. She informed on the old hag. Brave little thing.

She’d schooled her features into exactly the girl they wanted to see: a young heiress so loyal to the Republic, she handed her beloved grandmother over to be executed. It was the role she needed to play now. Rune knew this was just the beginning.

But beneath the mask, her grief had cracked her heart in half.

As their gazes locked, Nan’s parched lips moved, whispering three small words. Words Rune didn’t deserve.

I love you.

The shriek of metal scraping metal had filled the air as the chains raised her grandmother skyward, by the ankles. There she dangled, upside down, with her hands enclosed in witch restraints, hair swinging.

One of the Blood Guard stepped forward with a knife and sliced her grandmother’s throat. The blood splattered and gushed. Nan choked, gasping for a breath she couldn’t take, her body writhing like a worm on a hook. All trace of poise and elegance vanished as she struggled against her fate. Rune dug her teeth into her lower lip, forcing herself not to scream. Not to weep. Telling herself to be stoic and still as the blood dripped like ribbons, thick and red, and Nan finally fell still.

Afterward, Rune watched them throw her corpse into a mass grave on the edge of the city. She couldn’t take Nan home and bury her beneath the apple tree in the garden, where the blossoms would fall on her in the spring. She couldn’t afford to show that kind of tenderness, in case someone suspected the truth rooted in her heart.

She told only the first part to Gideon. The part about watching Nan die.

He studied her as the sun slipped past the horizon, turning the sky dark purple and washing him in tones of blue and gold. As the waves lapped around them, a kittiwake called in the distance.

You told him too much, she thought, looking sharply away, afraid he’d see the tears in her eyes. Now he has even more reason to suspect you.

Her throat swelled and her eyes burned. She’d stripped off her mask, and without it, she was fumbling.

Suddenly, Gideon was moving through the water toward her. Before she could kick back through the waves and swim away, he reached her. Cradling her jaw in one hand, he tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear with the other.

“It’s not a crime to have loved a witch, Rune.” He bent toward her until their foreheads touched and his breath tangled with hers. “If it were, you wouldn’t be the only guilty one.”

His gentleness snuck past her defenses, unlocking the deadbolts inside her.

Letting the enemy in.

She looked up as the tears fell down her cheeks. The sea hid their bodies, but it was clear on Gideon’s face that he hadn’t for a second forgotten what was under the waves. He seemed reluctant to close the distance between them, though, unsure if she would welcome it.

Rune tried to tell herself she wouldn’t welcome it. Gideon had probably been in the crowd that day, cheering on Kestrel’s death. She absolutely shouldn’t want him any closer.

He was a witch hunter. He suspected her. He was closing in on her even now.

And yet.

She remembered him on top of her, down in the mine. How solid and heavy he was. She remembered him later, dragging her out of the water. The strength in his arms. The heat of him pouring into her.

What would it feel like to have his body flush against hers?

It was perverse, the way she wanted to find out.

Seeing the thoughts in her eyes, Gideon trembled with restraint. His throat swallowed and his pulse beat hungrily through the hand cupping her jaw.

So, this horrible wanting afflicted him, too.

This is a game, she told herself, nuzzling her face into his palm. It’s only pretend.

It’s how she justified dragging her fingers through his hair and pulling his mouth down to hers.

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THIRTY-TWO GIDEON

IF GIDEON WERE BEING honest, part of him secretly hoped it was Rune who’d escaped him down in that mine. Which should have disturbed him. It would make her his enemy, not to mention a murderous, evil witch. But a girl who could outwit him thrilled Gideon too much to deny.

Her kiss felt the same. Like the first taste of something forbidden. Heady and delicious. Awakening all his senses at once.

When her teeth grazed his bottom lip, a wicked heat surged through him and he reached for her waist. So soft. He wanted to sink into her softness. To bury himself in her.

As if she felt the same, Rune wrapped her arms around his neck and arched against him.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Nothing was supposed to feel this good. This right. As if there was nothing to be ashamed of. As if—just maybe—he could be worthy of a girl like her.

A voice that sounded like Alex hissed from deep inside him: People like Rune don’t end up with people like you.

It was like a bucket of ice water dumped on his head. Sucking in a sharp breath, Gideon wrenched himself away from her, stumbling back.

What the fuck am I doing?

Alex was right, of course.

More importantly: Alex was in love with Rune.

In Gideon’s hasty retreat, Rune lost her balance, went under the waves, and came up spluttering.

His body buzzed at the lack of her. As if Rune in his arms was the only true thing in the world, and until she was there again, everything was wrong.

He shook his head, trying to expel that feeling.

“Gideon … I’m so sorry. I thought—” Her wet hair stuck to her cheeks, her throat, her shoulders. She swallowed hard, wide-eyed and trembling. “I thought you wanted to.”

What?

She shook her head fiercely. “I’m such an idiot.”

Kicking away from him, she swam for shore, her strokes punching through the waves, propelling her away from him. But not before he recognized the humiliation in her voice.

I thought you wanted to.

She’d completely misunderstood.

“Rune!”

Either she didn’t hear him, or she was ignoring him. Because she only swam faster.

Gideon started after her. He needed her to know that he’d very much wanted to.

Still wanted to.

He watched her reach the shore and stumble out of the water as the tide pulled at her legs. Rune’s naked form gleamed in the lantern’s light, which glowed on the sand. Even in his rush to stop her, he couldn’t help but admire her.

Maybe she isn’t a witch. He couldn’t see a single casting scar marring her smooth skin. And damn, did he look.

It made him hesitate. He forced himself to remember Alex. The brother he’d betrayed by kissing Rune tonight. How could he go after the girl Alex loved and kiss her again?

But if she was a witch and Gideon didn’t go after her—if he didn’t make it clear that he definitely wanted to kiss her—Rune would end this charade of a courtship, and he would lose his best chance to catch the Crimson Moth.

Gideon needed to catch the Moth, for all their sakes.

If Rune was that Moth, and Alex was in love with her, he had to do it for Alex most of all. He needed to protect his little brother from yet another dangerous witch.

Rune pulled on her white dress as Gideon reached the beach. Leaving her undergarments, she grabbed the lantern and fled into the woods.

Gideon dragged himself from the sea, shook the water from his hair, and quickly pulled on his trousers. Seizing his shirt, he sprinted after Rune, following the glow of the lantern before he lost her completely.

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THIRTY-THREE RUNE

RUNE SHIVERED IN THE breeze as she half walked, half ran back up the path through the woods, trying to put distance between herself and that beach as quickly as possible. The sun was long gone, and the trees were dark silhouettes around her. Her dress clung to her damp legs and her sopping wet hair dripped down her back.

But despite the chill, she was burning up.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Witches are cruel by nature. If Gideon believed that, and he suspected Rune of being a witch, he would think her no different from Cressida.

Of course he’d pulled away when she kissed him. The girl she pretended to be—the shallow, gossipy socialite—annoyed Gideon. And the girl she really was … he wanted that girl dead.

Rune repulsed him.

How did I misread him?

She wished she knew a spell to disappear for a week straight.

“Rune!”

Her heart skipped. Gideon’s voice was too close. She glanced over her shoulder, but the darkness cloaked everything beyond the glow of her lantern.

Turning toward the house, she quickened her pace.

Not quick enough.

“Stop running from me.”

This time, his voice was right behind her. Rune was about to bolt when he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop.

“You did nothing wrong.”

She shook her head, a fiery shame flaring through her. “I shouldn’t have presumed …”

He stepped in front of her, cutting her off from the path leading to Wintersea House. She couldn’t help but notice that, in his haste to chase her down, he hadn’t put on his shirt.

“You presumed correctly.”

Then why pull away?

He’s lying to you. You caught him off guard with that kiss, and it cracked his facade. He doesn’t want to kiss you. He never did. He just knows how to play this game better than you.

Rune was about to dart around him, when a sudden sound echoed through the woods.

Voices.

Gideon turned sharply toward it. Rune, still breathless, spotted the owners of the voices first. The flames of half a dozen torches bobbed like fireflies in the distance, coming down the path.

“Someone’s coming,” said Gideon.

“Obviously,” said Rune, turning out her lamp. She grabbed Gideon’s hand and pulled him off the path.

At the sight of the marks carved into their foreheads, he frowned. “Penitents? They’re trespassing on your property.”

“They’re not trespassing.” She kept her voice down, stepping lightly through the underbrush, taking him further away from the path, where the thickening trees shielded them from view. “I allow them to use the footpaths.”

Gideon was invisible beside her, his hand still in hers, as the torches flickered past them.

“You allow them?”

She was glad he couldn’t see the truth on her face. I do more than that. Sometimes, if she knew no one would catch her, Rune left fresh bread and cheese out for them to take.

“They use the paths to get to the beach, where they fish after sundown.” Technically, allowing Penitents to use the paths on her property wasn’t giving them direct aid, and therefore wasn’t illegal. “Are you going to report me?”

“No. It’s just … surprising.”

“There are children among them. As you pointed out earlier, I didn’t choose to be born into my position, just as those children didn’t choose to be born into theirs.”

“I’m not accusing you, Rune. I think it’s … admirable.” His warm hand squeezed hers.

Oh.

A strange silence descended.

Rune had loathed this boy since the day Alex first introduced them, and here she was, holding his hand in the dark. By choice.

The thought made her tug her fingers free.

Because he’d loathed her, too. Still did. Wasn’t that why he’d pushed away from her kiss?

She wanted to understand it. What, exactly, had he seen in her then that made him reject her so adamantly?

“Do you remember the day we first met?”

Rune had been thirteen. She and Alex had been friends for almost two years when, one hot summer day, he invited her to go cliff jumping in Nameless Cove. The cove, he’d told her, had the best cliffs for plunging into the sea. Rune had never done anything so daring, and the thought of it thrilled her. But it was on the wrong side of town. Nan had adamantly forbade Rune from visiting Alex’s home, which was in an economically disadvantaged part of the city.

But she’d said nothing about Nameless Cove. So Rune didn’t ask permission, or even tell Nan she was going.

When they arrived, she found a group of kids climbing the rocks and throwing themselves into the sea. One boy consistently climbed higher than the others and threw himself furthest.

The boy was Gideon, the brother Alex had told her so much about.

“How could I possibly forget,” Gideon murmured, pulling her out of the memory. The leafy canopy overhead was thinning, and with the moon shining through, Rune could see the frown marring his brow. “Rich girl takes a tour of the Outer Wards to see how the dirty peasants live, and decides it’s not for her.”

“What?” Her cheeks burned beneath the accusation. She didn’t notice when the forest disappeared behind them.

“Isn’t that why you asked Alex to bring you?”

“Alex invited me,” she said, defensive.

“Of course.” His jaw clenched. “To show you off like a piece of treasure.”

Rune looked sharply toward his silhouette. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

She shook her head as the long meadow grass swished around them, tilting in the wind and brushing her bare legs. “You were so rude that day. I thought you were the rudest boy I’d ever met.”

“Me?” He coughed. “I was rude? You’ve got it backward.”

“You insulted my clothes.”

“I did not.”

“You did! You called my dress foppish.”

“Oh, that. Yes, I remember.” He rubbed a hand stiffly over his jaw. “The lace alone would have put three meals on the table of every kid swimming that day.”

Rune opened her mouth only to realize she didn’t know what to say.

“I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know that wearing a designer dress to the Outer Wards was announcing just how out of reach you were to the rest of us?”

Out of reach?

“I was thirteen,” she said. “I’d never been past the city center. Alex was the only person I knew from the Outer Wards.”

They reached the wooden gate leading into the Wintersea gardens.

“I was so excited to meet you,” she murmured. He glanced sharply at her. “But you wouldn’t even shake my hand.”

As she opened the latch and stepped through, Gideon fell behind.

“I had never done it before.”

She turned back. “What do you mean?”

“Only aristos shake hands when they greet each other. I … didn’t know what you were doing. It felt like you were condescending to me. Or trying to keep your distance.”

Rune’s mouth opened and shut like a fish.

“You didn’t know,” he said, as if plucking the words from her lips. “I see that now.”

“You could have given me the benefit of the doubt.”

He sighed roughly. “Sure.”

“Sure?”

“What is it you want from me? An apology?” He threw out his arms beneath the glittering night sky. “I’m sorry I was rude to you, Rune Winters. Even at fifteen, I was an intolerable ass.” Lowering his arms, he studied her. “Will that suffice?”

“That’s not … I didn’t—”

“Then why is this important?”

“I don’t know!” She balled her hands into fists. “I guess it hurt. I wanted you to like me.”

Rune suddenly felt more naked now than she had on the beach.

Gideon fell quiet, considering her. Wishing she could put the words back in her mouth, knowing she was giving him too much ground, Rune quickly turned and made her way into the gardens. She heard the gate swing open and shut behind her. It took him no time at all to catch up, matching her pace.

He stayed quiet for a long time as they walked between the hedges.

“I remember the sound of your laugh,” he said as the back door of the house came into view. “It pulled me like a magnet toward the beach, where I found the most beautiful girl in the world standing on the shore.”

Rune’s footsteps slowed as they approached the door.

His stopped altogether.

“When I saw Alex at your side, I knew exactly who you were: Rune Winters. The girl Alex never shut up about. A girl who was entirely off-limits, because my little brother found her first.”

Rune frowned, irked by these words.

“That’s not the way friendship works,” she said, turning back to him. “Alex didn’t find me. He doesn’t own me.”

Gideon’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “I’m not talking about friendship, Rune.”

A shiver rushed across her skin.

Lifting his thumb to her bottom lip, he dragged it slowly across. His touch was like a switch, turning on an electric current that flickered through her.

“What about you?” he asked.

His eyes were bottomless pools. If she stared long enough, she might fall into them and never climb out.

“What about me?”

“You thought me the rudest boy you’d ever met.” His voice was low. Rough. “Is that all you thought?”

Rune swallowed. No. No, it was not all.

She remembered watching Gideon jump from the cliffs that day. The way his body arced through the air like a shimmering fish. No crowing bravado, only the quiet self-assurance that came with competence.

“You were … impressive.”

“Impressive,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth approaching a smile. “Anything else?”

Rune bit down on her lip, not wanting to admit the rest. She remembered that same boy encouraging the younger kids who weren’t brave enough to jump alone, climbing down from his heights to jump with them.

“Everyone admired you,” she confessed. “It was impossible not to. But you weren’t cocky about it, even though you could have been.”

He drew back, as if her answer surprised him.

Is this still the game? she wondered. Or is this real?

That she couldn’t tell unsettled her.

In the silence, Rune became intensely aware of him: the shadow of stubble on his jaw, the smell of the sea on his skin. He’d pulled his shirt on as they walked, and she stared at the buttons now.

“Do you still think I’m foppish?” she whispered.

Of all the questions she could have asked him … why had that one come out of her mouth?

His mouth quirked. “Yes.” He reached for her ribs, cupping them with strong hands. “Do you still think I’m a brute?”

“Def—”

His mouth brushed the corner of her jaw, sending a rush of sensation across her skin and making her breath hitch. It wasn’t a kiss, exactly. More of a caress. He moved lower, pressing his lips to a more sensitive place on her neck.

Rune’s pulse skipped. She closed her eyes.

Gideon moved lower still, to the base of her throat. Kissing now. Tasting her. When his teeth grazed her collarbone, Rune inhaled sharply, fisting her hands. The soft insistence of his mouth was a dangerous undercurrent, threatening to drag her downward.

His kisses continued, increasing in urgency, trailing over her skin. Was this real, or were they still pretending? She pushed her hands into his hair, cradling his head, silently telling him not to stop.

Should she invite him in?

Invite him up?

If she could get away for a few minutes, she could cast Truth Teller, and this time she would draw the spellmark on something useful.

Rune tried to keep her wits intact as his hands slid into her hair. As he pressed her against the door. She felt magnetized. Unable to resist the pull of him.

Focus, she told herself.

There was one rule she didn’t break in the games she played with her suitors. She might invite them back to her bedroom to coax out information, but she never brought them into her bed. It was a line she didn’t cross.

Would that line hold with Gideon?

As he kissed along her jaw, the words tumbled out of her. “Do you want to come inside?”

“I …”

Rune glanced up, her body humming. His eyes were ink-dark and ravenous. This was happening. She was going to open the door and they were …

Gideon stepped back.

Cold air rushed into the space between them.

“Perhaps another night,” he said.

Wait … what?

Rune straightened, trying to recover from her shock.

“It’s getting late. I should go home.”

“Right. Of course.” The sting of rejection made Rune glance away. “I’ll have one of the servants fetch your horse.”

He shook his head. “There’s no need. I know where your stable is. I can fetch my own horse.”

She was about to insist—she would be a poor hostess otherwise—when he interrupted, catching her hand.

“Rune.” His thumb brushed across her knuckles. “I would like to come in, but I promised to go slow with you.” Lifting her hand, he kissed the sensitive part of her wrist, making her shiver. “And if I step through that door tonight, I’m afraid I won’t keep my word.”

A wild feeling swept through Rune. She didn’t want him to keep his word. She wanted him to take her upstairs. This instant.

“Good night, Miss Winters.”

Turning away, he headed for the stables. Rune watched him disappear around the side of the house. Shakily, with her back to the wall, she sank to the terrace stones.

She could still taste him on her lips. Still feel the ghost of his hands on her ribs.

He doesn’t actually want you.

Her skin tingled everywhere he’d touched her.

You’re falling for his tricks.

Gideon was winning at this game. Because what they’d done tonight, Rune wanted to do again—for reasons that had nothing to do with rescuing witches.

“I loathe him,” she told the shadows in the garden, trying to remember all the reasons this was true.

But her voice trembled as she said it.

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