“I think it was the rebels,” Bryce says. “They have a great reason to want us all fighting each other. What better way to get us to take each other out? The more chaos, the better for them.”

That does make a lot more sense, but I don’t want to surrender my suspicion of Harlow. If this is purely a thing she does out of the relentless drive to see some sort of justice where she can have none—if she’s really watching her sister suffer slowly from afar—it transforms her from a cruel serial killer using her magic to pick off unblessed men into someone who uses her power to protect people who can’t protect themselves.

“I’m sorry that you have to face the possibility that your wife might have some redeeming qualities,” Carter says with a sardonic smile. “You know who would love this? Holly.”

As soon as he says it, I know it’s true. It’s the kind of thing Holly would respect. It’s the kind of thing she would do if we hadn’t always been so vigilant about domestic violence in our community.

I can practically hear her laughing at me from beyond the veil. I take a long drink to try to chase away the tightness in my chest.

This grief is old, but some days it feels so close. Perhaps my mother’s devotion to Asher makes it feel so, or perhaps it’s because, despite his gift of returning, the Divine of Endings still has claim over me.

Sometimes I wonder if Bryce and Carter feel it too—this strange sensation of being slightly out of time with the rhythm of life—but I don’t know how to ask. We never talk about it because no words ever feel quite right to describe what it is to die and then come back.

A quick shift in the crowded bar has me immediately on edge. Someone is cutting through the room with purpose. Carter and Bryce turn to face the hooded man approaching us.

I reach for the dagger at my back, but when he draws closer, I recognize his gait. It’s Gaven. My fight instinct turns to fear.

“Where is she?” I ask.

Gaven’s face is all hard lines. “You said there was only one way out of your rooms.”

I glare right back at him. “I lied. Don’t act like you haven’t been poking around.”

“It’s my job to poke around,” he snaps. “I’m one man defending a reckless woman against a fort of people who hate her. It’s my duty to assess threats and plan escape routes.”

“That’s my job now,” I say.

He narrows his eyes. “I may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night, boy. You’re not fooling me and you’re certainly not fooling her. The only one buying your performance is you.”

I glare at him. “I vowed not to harm my wife in front of the Divine. If that’s not enough for you to believe I will protect her, I don’t know what else I can do.”

Gaven jabs a finger at me. “I’ve watched you—walking into every room like you’re the most dangerous thing in it.”

“I am.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “No, you’re not. You’re too young and dumb to know the truth, which makes you the least qualified person to guard her.”

“What truth?” I snap.

Carter’s hand clamps down on my arm to remind me this isn’t the place, but I’m sick of Gaven’s superior attitude.

“The truth,” Gaven says, “is the most dangerous one in every room is the one who’s willing, and you will find no one more willing than Harlow Carrenwell. If you don’t know you’ve met your match yet, there’s nothing I can say to prepare you.”

I know that’s not true. She trusts Kellan and Aidia, and maybe that bartender she was whispering with back in Lunameade. Perhaps there’s no one she trusts entirely, but there are ways to know some of her. I don’t need to have her in totality. I just need enough to drive a wedge between her and her family.

“Then why do I know about her scar?” I ask.

As soon as the question slips from my lips, I wish I could haul it back. I just surrendered every bit of progress I made with her for the sake of proving something to her bodyguard. He’ll tell her what I said and she will lock herself back up like the vault she is.

Gaven’s dark eyes burn into me as if he knows me for exactly who I am. Someone not to be trusted. Someone who wants to use the woman he’s been sent to protect.

He shakes his head and laughs. “You were bound to see it eventually. What’s more pressing than your ego is that she’s already slipped out because you were more concerned with me knowing the layout of your manor than keeping her safe.”

I hold my hands up, chastened by the truth. “There’s a passageway from my room. I didn’t show it to her, and it’s well-hidden, so I didn’t have reason to believe she would find it.” I shake my head. “Where would she go? She was annoyed I wouldn’t let her go for a run today—maybe she tried to do that?”

Gaven frowns. “She only ran occasionally at night back in Lunameade and only because she knew the territory well. I swear she could sprint through those streets blindfolded. She’s more of a morning runner, though, and I don’t think she’d try for the first time at night here. She can be reckless, but that would be a lot even for her.”

I lean in close to whisper. “Well, I have no idea. I gave her a safe room as part of her wedding gift. No one can get into it but her, and she used it as a way to hide from me all afternoon.”

Gaven’s mouth twitches. “Did you mention anyone? Anywhere important?”

I shake my head. “We were in our room all day. The only place I took her was the art gallery.”

Carter and Bryce both whip their heads around to look at me.

“You took her to the gallery?” Bryce asks at the same time Carter says, “The sculptures or the paintings?”

I hold up a hand to brace against their questions. “Don’t read into it. She wanted to go for a run. It was the only compromise I could think of that kept us inside the manor.”

Gaven watches the exchange with too much interest. He’s far too observant—yet another reason he needs to die sooner rather than later—but the larger concern is the way my friends are looking at me like they doubt me as much as Gaven.

“Can you think of anything else?” Gaven asks.

I pore over everything I said to her this afternoon. The art, the toys. The book.

I jump to my feet, sending more ale sloshing onto the sticky wooden tabletop. “Raining Star Bar.”

“What’s that?” Gaven asks.

“It’s the storyteller’s bar,” Bryce says. “On the fourth level of the fort. It’s not that far from the manor.”

“And I mentioned the storytellers to her this afternoon when I gave her part of her wedding present,” I say. “She has to be there.”

I make for the door without looking back to see if they’re following. It’s not until I’ve pushed through the crush of dancing couples and flirty barmaids into the cold night air that I can sense them behind me.

Their boots echo on the stone ground in a percussive rhythm that’s soothing to the panic clawing at my chest.

Harlow is smart, and she knows how to defend herself. She’s not a damsel in distress. She’s a Divine-damn serial killer. I know she’ll be fine, but my pulse doesn’t settle at all.

Why couldn’t she just be a beautiful, naive idiot like I was expecting?

It’s terrifying that one heartbeat separates me from the peace I’ve been chasing.

All I can think about is how quickly this ten-years-in-the-making chance at vengeance could be dashed if she’s hurt. It might already be too late thanks to me and my stupid mouth.

OceanofPDF.com

31HARLOW

It took me roughly a half-hour of stumbling around in the dark streets of the fort’s fourth level, but it was worth it. Explicit story hour at the Raining Star Bar is way better than I expected.

My glamour necklace from Aidia came in handy. The last thing I need is for someone to recognize me. I’ll just listen to a few stories while Henry is out sulking, and I’ll be back before he even knows I’m gone. I feel a little guilty, but I think Aidia will forgive me for the frivolous use of her gift when I have stories to bring her from the Mountain Haven storytellers themselves.