When Nelle Wychthorn was forced to sign herself away in marriage, she should have read the contract's fine print. Because she signs not with ink, but with blood. And that changes everything.
Season 1 'Of Crows and Thorns'
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Fiery Nelle, the isolat...
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I ran through the mansion, asking servants if they'd seen my older sister. No one had. I scoured our home, getting a little more anxious when I couldn't find Evvie. Just on the verge of giving up, I heard her delighted laughter.
What is she doing in there?
Sending a quick message to my mother, I let her know I'd found my missing sister in the laundry.
As I approached the laundry room, there was such playfulness in Evvie's voice that it surprised me. "Gods, you're always such a baby...just stay still, stop shifting around and let me finish."
I opened the door, her name on the tip of my tongue, and there it stayed.
Evvie sat on top of a washing machine in her gown with an ostentatious tiara sparkling in her hair. Standing right in front of her was Caidan Crowther. And not only that, he was shirtless.
I was rooted to the spot, stunned.
Caidan was the same height as Graysen, but his body was bigger and brawnier. Amongst the whirls of tattooed flames coiling across his broad chest, there didn't seem to be as many Ukkenskrit tales as his older brother's. Caidan's hair was undercut and had a beach-swept feel to the longer locks. Violet eyes, the same shade as an amethyst, were locked on my sister.
While my sister cleaned the blood from his neck with a damp cloth, he was staring at her. Watching every movement. Every nuance playing across her exquisite features. And his eyes were unguarded. It floored me what I saw in their depths...yearning.
As yet, neither of them had realized I lingered beside the open door.
Evvie dabbed at his neck, glancing upward. "I missed a spot."
Caidan blinked and the yearning was wiped clean from his face. "You've been at this for ages," he grumbled without any bite to his tone.
"It's not my fault you bled like a stuck pig."
I could see there was no blood left on him, but she traced a finger along his neck as if there were, murmuring, "Here, here...and here," until she reached his ear, and then she ruthlessly flicked the tip.
He yowled, jerking away and pressing a hand to his stinging ear. "What the fuck?!"
Lunging forward, he dug his fingers into her sides, tickling her.
She twisted away howling in laughter, slapping at his hands. "Get off!"
He stopped tickling, but he braced his hands on either side of her, boxing her in.
"You've messed up my hair," she glared playfully. Her tiara sat on an awkward lean on top of her head and it wobbled. She went to adjust it, but he got there first, plucking it from her head.
He scowled at the diamonds crusting the silver, and the glittering emeralds the size of robin eggs. "You don't need to wear this. Could it be any more ridiculous?"
