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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In the dark of the room, I stared wide-eyed at Mr. Whiskers, but I didn't see him. All that was emblazoned across my mind was an image of Laurena with her baby-fuzz head. I had done an absolute hatchet job on the Wychthorn Princess's hair. Some of the cuts I'd made were so close to her scalp, she looked bald.
BALD!
Confronted with the enormity of what I'd committed by stealing Laurena's hair, and the brutality that awaited if she discovered it was me, paralyzing fear had ensnared me, snaking around my bones and squeezing until I'd cracked and trembled with terror. I'd jolted into mindless motion without thinking, poured the glamour potion into her mouth, and missed.
Missed!
FREAKING MISSED!
And though I was aware I was speaking, it was as if a stranger was saying those words—What am I going to do?—their voice distorted and distant.
What have I done?
WHAT. HAVE. I. FREAKING. DONE!?
The empty glass vial slipped from my limp fingers, and I heard it fall with a soft thump, which dragged my attention away from Mr. Whiskers' unblinking gaze, shadowed with concern, to the bed. I watched the vial roll down the gentle slope and stop at the bedding tucked around Laurena's upper chest.
Laurena's pink lips were cast wide open, and the horrendous sound of her snoring buzzed through the air. Loud, but it wasn't as loud as the cold blood rushing in my ears. I watched in horror as the last of the potion ran like tears down her chin and neck, sliding over the plastic sheet beneath her head and shoulders to saturate the white sheets and stain them a pastel peach.
Oh...
My...
Freaking...
Gods...
Dread felt like a physical blow to my gut. I winced. My chilled, stiff fingers clutched my middle as if I could hold my mental state together if I just pressed hard enough on my stomach. Hysterical sobs threatened to bubble up my throat.
Maybe the few drops of glamour potion would muddle Laurena's sleepy head and fool her into thinking she still had a long mane of blond locks.
But she hasn't drunk enough of it!
My thoughts were a whirlwind of chaos and terror. My mind shot ahead, fumbling in its calculation of what I could do, and how I could get my hands on some more glamour potion to trick Laurena into thinking she still had her hair. But I couldn't think straight. I couldn't untangle the panic from what needed to be done to extract myself from this perilous situation.
My breath came quicker, faster. I felt lightheaded and dizzy. I pressed a hand to my temple, my fingertips gliding along clammy, sweaty skin.
