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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Luckily Dolcie was too busy turning a toddler in the right direction of their team's goal to notice Tomas.
Oswin bristled. "I'm going to kill him."
"You and me both," I murmured back, keeping a sharp eye on Tomas, whose gaze slid to Oswin and, curiously, he visibly swallowed, his eyes flaring round with fear.
A heartbeat later, I realized why. Fright sputtered through my veins when Oswin surged forward, both of his hands fisted and rising. Almost shrieking in startlement, I grabbed hold of my friend's arm and tugged him back. "No, you're not," I whisper-hissed, even though I was in total agreeance. I darted a quick look around to make sure no one was wandering close enough that they'd hear our conversation. "You need to calm down. Everyone will ask what's going on between you two if you get into a fistfight. Dolcie and her family can't have that kindof attention cast their way."
Oswin didn't advance any further, but neither did his wrathful expression falter. His arm was taut beneath my hand, and the muscles trembled with restrained power. I clenched my fingers tighter around his upper arm, digging my fingernails into his flesh so hard he hissed with pain. His gaze snapped to mine and I held it, silently warning him to back down. His wide jaw sawed. For one long moment, I wasn't sure if he was going to listen.
Finally, his muscles relaxed and he took a step back.
I patted his arm and let him free.
"What the hells is he doing here?" Oswin grumbled, still simmering with dark fury.
"He came first thing this morning," I explained. "Delivering fruit from the Lyons' orchard to replenish our supplies." We'd run low from hosting and feeding the vast number of attendees from other Houses at the funeral and wake yesterday. I'd unfortunately crossed paths with Tomas in the kitchen. He'd sheepishly lifted up a hand in greeting, but I'd quickly turned my back when he called out my name, asking me to wait up. I'd stomped off, the safer choice because my fingers had been itching to whip out my wooden spoon and belt him with it. I couldn't believe he'd think I'd willingly speak with him after the mess he'd gotten Dolcie into.
Oswin narrowed his eyes. "Has he got a death wish with Beckah on the loose?"
"I would seem so," I muttered.
Hells!
Beckah!
Both Oswin and I had the exact same thought, and both of us furtively searched for Dolcie's fiery younger sister and found her opposite us on the playing field. She stood beside her elderly parents. Beckah and her gray-haired father were red-cheeked with cold anger. Both of them glared at Tomas, looking as if they were about to unleash hells. But Beckah's mother stood in front of them both, liver-spotted hands raised as she hurriedly spoke, probably telling them both to calm down.
Tomas noticed their attention. He gulped and his complexion went a sickly color. He stepped back quickly and disappeared like a coward behind the spectators.
