Feeling my cheeks warm, I started messing with the buttons on the lightweight coat. “My hands are special sometimes. That’s all.”

“It’s not your hands. It’s not even your gift, and that is what it is. A gift. Not a failure. You’re not a failure.”

I drew in a shuddering breath that did nothing to ease the sudden burn in the back of my throat. I kept toying with the button. What she said…

I didn’t think she could understand how much those words meant to me. And I didn’t think I could acknowledge it because doing so meant acknowledging how much all the other words hurt.

“Sera,” Ezra whispered.

I cleared my throat. “You should probably get her checked out by the Healer. Maybe not tonight,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “In case there are still some signs of how serious her injury was. But she should be looked over.”

“I’ll make sure she is.”

I nodded and then peeked up at her. “Does your father or the Queen know about her? About you two?”

Ezra coughed out a laugh. “Absolutely not. If they did, the wedding would be planned before there was even an engagement.”

My lips twitched as I unfolded my arms. “And would that be so bad? You love her.”

“And I…I think she loves me.” She dipped her chin, a half-grin forming. “But it’s still new. I mean, we’ve known each other our entire lives, but it’s not like either of us knew what we meant to each other the whole time. Or, at least, realized it. I don’t want the Crown involving themselves in it.”

“That’s understandable.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “You should get back in there.”

“I will.” She hesitated. “Why don’t you join us? While we’re getting cleaned up, I can have food sent to my chambers.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to head to bed soon.” I saw her throat work on a swallow. “You should get back in there with Marisol.”

Nodding, she started to turn but then stopped. She crossed the short distance between us and folded her arms around me.

I stiffened at first, shocked. She was touching me. She was hugging me, and I didn’t know how to respond to that for several seconds. My senses were overloaded as I lifted my arms and wrapped them around her, returning the gesture stiffly. The hug felt awkward and strange…but then it felt like something wonderful.

Ezra embraced me—squeezed me tightly—and then let go. “I love you, Sera.”

Overwhelmed, I watched her step back and smile shakily. I stood there as she turned and made her way back to the carriage. I didn’t breathe until she was inside.

I swallowed thickly, briefly closing my eyes. “I love you, too,” I whispered.

Turning slowly, I hurried across the courtyard, away from my stepsister and the carriage—away from the first time someone had hugged me. And away from the cold kiss I felt against the nape of my neck, the dread that was steadily replacing all that warmth, settling like a stone in the center of my chest and warning me that I had crossed a line.

I had done as Odetta had warned.

Played like a Primal.

Chapter 19

It had worked.

I couldn’t…I couldn’t even begin to process what I’d done. I’d brought a mortal back to life. I wasn’t sure if I’d just never believed my gift would work on a mortal or if it was because I’d never believed I would do it. And the silvery glow? That was completely new. Did it happen because I had used my gift on a mortal? I wasn’t sure. I lay in bed for hours, unable to shut down my thoughts enough to fall asleep, even though the cold press against the nape of my neck had long since faded.

No one would ever know but Ezra. Marisol would never learn the truth, and Odetta’s warning would not come to fruition.

Everything was fine.

Nothing had changed. Marisol’s soul hadn’t entered the Shadowlands yet, so it wasn’t like he—the Primal of Death—would even know. I’d only done it this once, and I would never do it again, so I needed to stop dwelling on it.

The night sky had already begun to give way to the gray of dawn by the time I finally drifted off to sleep. I tossed and turned on the narrow bed, the thin night rail itchy in the stale heat of my room, the pillow too flat and then too full. I dreamt of wolves and serpents chasing me. I dreamt of chasing a dark-haired man who wouldn’t look at me no matter how many times I called out to him. And each time I woke, I swore I heard Odetta’s voice in my ear.

I wasn’t sure what finally drew me from my fitful sleep, but when I opened my eyes, my head wasn’t even on the pillow, and the glare of the late-morning sun was bright. I blinked rapidly, surprised that I had managed to sleep this late. I hadn’t planned on that, but I was relieved that the ache in my temples had receded as I rolled onto my back.

Tavius leaned against the closed door of my bedchamber, arms crossed over his chest.

I stared at him for what felt like an eternity, not quite sure if I was really seeing him. There was no logical reason for him to be in here. None at all. I had to be having a nightmare.

“Nice of you to finally wake,” Tavius said.

I snapped out of my stupor, jackknifing upright. “What in the hell are you doing in my bedchamber?”

“Do I need a reason? I’m the Prince. I can go wherever I please,” he replied and then laughed as if he had said something funny.

I studied him as I dropped one bare foot to the stone floor. His hair was uncombed, face flushed under the shadow of his unshaven jaw. The white shirt he wore was untucked and wrinkled. So were the loose white pants. He looked as if he hadn’t yet gone to bed. My gaze returned to his face. His eyes were bright.

“Are you drunk?” I asked. “Is that how you lost your way to your rooms?”

“I know exactly where I am.” Tavius unfolded his arms and pushed away from the door. “You and I need to have a chat.”

The remnants of sleep vanished in an instant. My gaze flicked over him once more, searching for signs of a weapon. I saw none. “There is nothing that you and I need to talk about,” I said, inching my hand across the thin mattress toward the underside of my pillow where, during the last three years, I’d started keeping my dagger as I slept. “Unless you’re here to express remorse for being the cause of three young guards’ deaths.”

He frowned at me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Are you really going to pretend that you had nothing to do with those guards who attacked me?” I lowered my other foot to the floor as I shifted toward the head of the bed.

“Oh, you’re talking about them.”

“Yes, the guards you hired to risk their lives for coin you do not have.”

He sneered. “You think far too highly of yourself if you believe I’d waste even one coin on anything that has to do with you.”

“If that was supposed to be an insult, you need to do better,” I snapped back, slipping my fingers under the pillow.

“It’s just the truth, little sister.”

“Do not call me sister,” I hissed. “That is an insult.”

He sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring as he jerked his head back. “You will speak to me with respect.”

I coughed out a harsh laugh. “No. I will not. What I will do, is give you a chance to leave this room with your flesh and ego intact.”

A muscle throbbed in his temple, and I braced myself for an explosion of anger. Instead, he laughed softly, and unease unfurled. “You’re so mouthy now, sister. I must admit, I preferred the meek and submissive version of you.”

“Is that so?” Under the pillow, I spread my fingers out and…and found nothing. I glanced at the pillow, my stomach dropping.

“What is it, sister?” Tavius queried, and my gaze shot to him. He reached around to his back. “Missing something?”