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 delicate skin around Tabitha's eyes and mouth creased deeply as something disturbing crossed her features. "Laurena threatened Valarie to keep away from Byron. I didn't like what she insinuated about Valarie's brothers, either."
A cold feeling slithered around in my gut. Brothers, not brother. What could Laurena have said about Gratian? Because I knew deep in my gut, whatever it was, it wasn't about my younger brother Sander. I was about to ask what she meant, what she'd overheard Laurena saying, but Tabitha carried on speaking. "And I didn't like how she talked down to Valarie, or mocked her speech and her artwork."
Anyone else might have said speech impediment or stutter, but not Tabitha.
Tabitha's expression lightened and her eyes shone brighter. "I saw some of Valarie's artwork—she's really talented," she eagerly told me, a smile ghosting her mouth.
Yes, Val was.
And now it all made sense, how I'd suspected that my sister had previously met the servant girl—the look of familiarity that had passed between them when Tabitha had tipped her chin up as if to say to Valarie to stand strong when my sister's first impulse had been to decline Byron's offer of joining him on a picnic lunch.
And Laurena had threatened my sister, to the point Valarie had locked herself away in her bedroom for the night, so upset by it all she refused to tell me anything. Anger snaked through my blood. I wouldn't mind grabbing the scissors and hacking away at Laurena's hair, or better, slashing her throat.
Tabitha wasn't telling me the whole truth. I wasn't that gullible. But I liked how she fiercely defended my twin. I also wondered just how tangled I'd gotten within my own lies, pretending that I was a hunter and a member of her servant world, and how she was going to react when she discovered the truth.
I do not care.
Tabitha was purely for entertainment.
Fuck it—even I knew I was lying to myself. That kiss was insane.
Tabitha wriggled her body, trying to get free, which was the worst thing she could have done, grinding herself up against me. My entire body fucking sighed and then clenched tight. I didn't let her go, just loosened my grip on her nipped-in waist, allowing her movement but not freedom. She was wearing something hard beneath the hoodie that covered her shoulders and chest, and I glanced down. Her thighs looked bulkier too. "What the hells are you wearing?"
She pulled an annoyed face at me. "It's a disguise. I'm wearing football padding."
Looking at it now, it made sense, but as far as I was concerned it was a little overkill. "Aren't you overthinking this?"
She rose up on her tippy-toes to reach higher and closer to me. Her breath feathered my face, sending a shiver of hot pleasure down my spine. "I did think that too," she whispered earnestly, her head bobbing. "But you know what—it worked. I got spotted by some drunk guy. But he didn't think I was a girl at all. He called out—hey boy."
