Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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The temperature in the kitchen plummeted to an arctic degree, beading the wide window in condensation and washing my flesh in a shiver of goosebumps. Terror trembled along my bones from the tips of my toes to the ends of my fingers. Fingers that were instinctively reaching to my side, unconsciously seeking...
Seeking the reassurance of my wooden spoon.
A wooden spoon that wasn't tucked inside the belt at my hip.
A wooden spoon I now knew the truth of.
Stale breath coiled around my figure like unfurling fog. "Do you have wyrmblood, Tabitha?"
Oh gods...
I shook my head, no.
My short, frantic breaths were exhaled in whitish puffs, clouding the window's surface further. The world outside slowly disappeared. It was just me and that thing, alone, in a bone-chilling kitchen drenched in gloom.
"You promised you'd get it," the creature snarled.
Its gruesome need unspooled in the damp freezing air, thick with menace.
The bloodhound whimpered and cowered, shrinking into a tiny ball deep inside.
"I will, I will," I cried, my voice weak and quavering. "I'll have a vial tomorrow night. I need more time." The clutch in my hand shook as fright slashed through my brittle nerves.
I flinched with a terrified gasp, my limbs locking rigid.
A thorny sting at the back of my neck.
A deadly talon dragged slowly downward in a sinister path that sliced shallowly through the skin. Heat flared outward as wet warmth drizzled from the wound to trickle down the groove of my spine. "Too late, Tabitha," it murmured, "you had your chance."
Unfathomable panic crushed my lungs.
Breathe...breathe...
It leaned even closer. Its rasping voice tingled the curve of my ear. "Who is this man carrying wyrmblood in his veins?"
I fisted my free hand so tightly that my fingernails bit through the soft flesh of my palm. I'd never reveal it was Varen. I shook my head, my mouth pressed into a defiant line.
"Who is he?!" The words ripped outward like rumbling thunder.
I stood frozen, quaking in terror.
A crack of bones.
A rustle of silky fabric.
Thin, gnarled fingers with black-tipped talons rested on my shoulder, drumming slowly, as it made a considering hum at the back of its throat. I gritted my chattering teeth together and almost recoiled in revulsion at the prickle of bristled skin swiping slowly up the side of my face. It pressed its cheek to mine in a perverse gesture of affection. In the clouded window was a distorted faint impression of an elongated humanoid face with a too-pointy chin.
