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“And look at what that’s gotten you.” She spans her arms wide, my stolen glass’s ice cube clicking against the side. “How does the empty house feel? Depressing as all hell? Because I’ve been back only a few hours and am about to gnaw off my own leg if it means we leave faster.”

“How can you say that? This is our family. Our legacy.”

She laughs. “Who are you arguing with? Because Dad is dead.”

I gasp. “Stop.”

“No. I won’t. Dad is dead. Do you want to be dead, too? Because that’s what’s going to happen if you stay here. And then I’ll die because I’m not leaving you here again because you’ve decided to become suicidal.” Her leg shoots out from under her skirts to kick me. “Snap out of it.”

I scrub my face. “Emilia.”

“Valen!” she mocks. “Time is running out. Now tell me. What is wrong? Because there’s something else in that little dark pit you shove all your emotions into, and it needs to come out. We’ve talked about Dad. We’ve talked about Mom. We’ve talked about us. I even broke the spell you were under. Now, tell me, Valen. What is stopping you?”

I pant. “I don’t know. I don’t…” But I do. It’s bubbling in my chest, and I groan with the pain that surges with it. “I don’t know if it’s real.”

“What’s real?”

The room is spinning. A tingling I’ve never felt before prickles along my face. I search the room desperately, trying to find something, anything to make this terrifying surging wave go away. A mirror in the corner flashes with a flicker of red, dark smoke that doesn’t exist within the parlor wisping over its surface.

“Astoria!” But as fast as they appeared, the smoke and red hair are gone. I grip my chest again, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Astoria. Oh, fuck, Astoria.”

Emilia smirks. “There you go. What about Astoria? Come on. Dig deep.”

She condemned me to die.

I bolt up, my leg kicking the glass out of my sister’s hand. The crystal shatters into thousands of glittering pieces. I grip my chest, trembling. “My apologies. I didn’t mean… I need a moment.”

Emilia’s brows rise. “Are you sure ‘a moment’ is what you need?”

I jump off the couch as if it caught on fire. “Yes. I need to collect myself.” My hands are shaking, and I grip and release them until they stop. I force my tone to be normal, but I can’t seem to sustain it. “But you’re right. We can’t stay here for much longer. Shall we quickly pillage our family estate and flee for our lives? Because I refuse to live in destitution.”

Her lips purse. “Yes, but only because you’re finally making sense. Don’t get me wrong! We are dealing with all your repressed feelings about Astoria, even if I have to drag them out of you. We’ll just conveniently do it after we’re safe.”

“Looking forward to it,” I grumble and practically bolt from the room.

CHAPTER 22

THE WEAVE

ASTORIA

Warmth envelops me, a deep rumbling echoing. I curl tighter in this soft embrace. The pain that burned within me ebbs with each rumbling, rhythmic tightening. It’s a familiar hold, the kind that aches my heart and warms my bones. Gravity no longer exists. My troubles no longer exist. This cocoon is my entire consciousness, and I bask in the comforting embrace.

My hand twitches when a sound pings beneath the rumble. My brows twitch, my lips turning down. It’s not a sound, but a pull. A tug in my center, an ache that draws me from my slumbering existence.

I lift my head from where I rest it against my knees, the warmth I hover in shifting like the softest fur. All I can see is darkness, and the warm comfort beckons my return, and yet, I resist its call. My hand drags from being wrapped around my legs, the long strands of warm silk slipping along my flesh as I do, and I press my palm to my chest. My heart convulses, not with a pump that sends blood circulating, but with an agony of want when that call sounds again.

My legs straighten, my toes searching for a floor but encountering nothing except more soft tendrils. Memories are returning to me. This is not the first time I’ve felt this call while slumbering within Jinx’s healing embrace. That time, the call was from my own heart, stretching and reaching as I sobbed for Lucas. I needed to know that he survived. I needed to ensure he was safe.

This… this feels different.

I stretch out, turning as I look all around the black, inky darkness.

Go back to sleep.

Jinx’s voice is all around me, and I look down at my glowing form. A black-stained tear stretches down my body like a scar. I touch it and expect to find oil staining my fingertips, but it’s smooth like it’s a part of me now.

The tug pulls, and I turn, my hair drifting slowly as if I’m underwater. “What is that?”