Neither girl saw him behind them.

His teeth flashed as he lowered himself into a pounce.

I shuddered at the thought of watching these women be torn apart.

I wouldn’t be able to stay living in this pavilion if everything was covered in gristle and blood.

I shook my head subtly, hoping he’d get the message. Don’t.

I hoped he’d sense my inner voice and saved the massacre for when Lydia and Evelyn had left. If I was honest, I was surprised they were still alive after Lucien’s systematic deletion of all the assassins in Cinderkeep. They were probably the last ones alive, and despite my dislike of them, I’d known them long enough to actually care if they got dismembered.

“You should go,” I whispered to the two wannabe thieves. “Before it’s too late.”

Evelyn gawked at me. “Did you just threaten us?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Fuck it,” Lydia cut in. “It’s not here.” Balling her hands, she stalked toward me. “Maybe you’re hiding it on your body, huh?”

Whisper’s haunches bristled. He took a silent step forward, the girls oblivious as his lips peeled back, revealing dangerously sharp teeth.

He took another step.

I shook my head. Leave. I tried to shoo him with silent commands. Go back to Lucien. I can handle this.

My head throbbed, contradicting me.

Okay, so maybe I couldn’t handle it, but I didn’t want Whisper to get hurt. Laura had managed to cut him, and she was as skilled as me when it came to fighting. Evelyn and Lydia had been trained by whoever threw them in here. They had weapons.

Lydia snapped her fingers at Evelyn. “Hold her down. I’ll search her myself.”

Whisper’s ears flattened as both girls crowded me, pushing me back down onto the bed.

I lost sight of him.

Panic that he’d pounce had me falling sideways, looking past them.

My eyes met the panther’s. We shared a look. And instead of him charging in and drenching my place in blood, he snapped his teeth, spun around, and took off like a streak of midnight.

“Maybe we should open you up?” Evelyn smirked. “See if you’re hiding it inside you.”

My gaze snapped to hers. “What?”

“Maybe you swallowed it.” She smiled, yanking out a dagger from her legging’s waistband. “Should we find out?”

A chill shot down my spine. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re dead,” she whispered.

Lydia leaped on the bed behind me. Her nails scored crescent moons into my wrists as she yanked me down and pinned my arms above my head, digging her knee into the sensitive part where my shoulder met neck.

Discomfort flared, hot and debilitating.

“Let me go.” I bucked and wriggled but Lydia ground her knee into my shoulder, making me cry out.

Evelyn landed on top of me, locking my hips beneath her spread legs, her left hand pressing against my sternum, grinding my raindrop pendant against me.

She brought up the dagger with her right.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to tell us what to do, do you?” She grinned and pressed the sharp knife against my throat. “Last chance. Where’s another bottle of Ashfall blood?”

“I told you!” I cringed away from her blade, cursing myself for being so pathetically weak. “He hasn’t given me another one! That other one wasn’t even planned. He just—”

“If that’s true, what do we need you for then?” Evelyn smirked, tracing the metal tip along my cheekbone. “Better to get rid of you so someone else—someone better—can serve in his bed.”

“For the last time, I’m not sleeping with him!”

“There’s only one way to make sure.” She smiled and pressed the dagger against my very breakable skin. It split with a sharp sting, the tickle of blood rolling hotly down my neck.

“Wait!”

Lydia’s fingers clamped harder as I struggled. “Just let it happen,” she cooed. “Fighting will only make it hurt worse.”

“Oh, I think a bit of pain would be good after she’s wasted so much of our time, don’t you?” Evelyn snapped. Rearing upright, she removed the dagger from my throat and grinned. “You really shouldn’t have gotten in our way, you know.”

And then she hit me.

Hard.

A ruthless punch to my face.

Stars exploded. Coppery blood bloomed in my mouth.

“That’s for wasting our time,” Evelyn spat as she pulled back.

She hit me again, this time in my stomach.

I tried to curl in and protect myself, but Lydia kept me trapped.

“That’s for thinking you’re better than us.”

She hit me again, right on my breast.

I groaned as pain exploded.

“And that’s for refusing to give us what we want.”

Every punch compounded in my skull as fireworks shot up my spine and gathered in the base of my skull. The migraine that’d been simmering since they’d arrived ignited, hijacking all my senses with shooting, searing misery.

I squirmed, wishing I could claw and bite and win—but that nasty dagger pressed against my throat again.

Panting, I did my best to look through the haze and beg. “Please...y-you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to kill me.”

“Yeah, we do.” Evelyn leaned close, her eyes full of evil satisfaction. “You’re lucky we kept you alive this long.”

Lydia’s fingernails gouged into my wrists, jerking my arms so hard they threatened to pop out of their sockets. “Do it.”

I fought.

My panic set off a tumble of dominos in my brain, shutting down my senses, making me blind and deaf and petrified.

Evelyn raised the knife, aiming for my heart.

She brought it down—

Chapter Forty-Five

I SAT CROSS-LEGGED IN MY private courtyard.

Eyes closed, hands upturned on my knees, I did my best to fall into the meditative practice that was my only trick apart from the cold plunge to temper my pain.

Detach. Let go. Fade away.

The mantra refused to work.

And it was her fault.

I’d grown too reliant on her calming, cooling presence. I’d become dependent. Every part of me disgustingly desperate for her to appear.

I didn’t even recognise half the emotions clawing through me anymore, just that she made me burn and burn and—

A blur of power exploded into the courtyard, wrenching my eyes open just as Whisper shot in front of me, black and panting and furious.

I scowled. “What’s up with you?”

He snarled and lunged for me. His teeth clamped on my coat sleeve, scraping on the silver cuff beneath, making me jerk in fresh misery. The open port in my veins made those cuffs incredibly sensitive.

He jerked me forward with a growl, my body colliding with his bulk. “Hey!”

Getting a better bite on my coat, he tugged me in a half-circle until I faced the door.

I narrowed my eyes at the gloomy interior of my quarters. The sun hadn’t broken through the dreary clouds today, reflecting my depression.

I searched for Rook.

Why the hell hadn’t she arrived yet?

I’d grown to know her habits these past few weeks and regularly caught her snoozing when she thought she was alone. It seemed sleeping was one of her favourite pastimes. But there were limits—

Whisper snarled around a mouthful of coat, shaking me like a dead wildebeest.

“Do you mind?” Grabbing the giant cat’s whiskers, I tugged them very, very gently. Just enough to make him drop me. “Stop being so dramatic.”

Spitting and hissing, he wiped his muzzle on his leg before glowering at me like I’d betrayed him.

Which I kind of did.

We had an unwritten rule that I wouldn’t grab his whiskers unless absolutely necessary. I’d read in the zoology encyclopaedia that yanking his whiskers—also known as vibrissae—was intensely painful and disorienting, thanks to so many sensitive nerve endings.

“I’m sorry, okay? But you started it.”

Staggering to my feet, I rested my palm over the vitalsync core. “Why are you in such a foul mood? Did I not feed you enough last night?”