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this building preserved witch propaganda, histories full of lies, and entire floors of spell books.
Gideon had never heard Harrow speak about the witch who’d indentured her.
He’d been the only person in that club to see Gideon as something more than a witch’s whore. He’d looked beneath the bruises, to the boy with nothing left to live for.
It was Nicolas who’d believed in Gideon when Gideon didn’t believe in himself.
So gideon feels he owes his freedom to bloold guard? Was he used?
He stared at Rune, unsure if she was obtuse, or a master of deception. She had drastically widened his net of suspects—but intentionally or unintentionally?
Haha
Rune might lie, but Alex wouldn’t. His brother would never knowingly sabotage him by aiding a dangerous witch. Not after everything their family had been through.
And each entry was named after one of the seven Ancients. Mercy, Liberty, Wisdom, Justice, Amity, Patience, Fortitude.
Her eyes held his. “I don’t know what to expect with you.”
because the only way to unmask her was to get closer to her. And the only way to do that was to convince her to trust him again.
How would he fall for a girl pretending to be superficial—in order to outwit him?
A dark shadow hung over that house. He could still feel Cressida there. Still smell the stench of her magic in the air. The few times he’d gone back, he’d been plagued by living nightmares.
“Are you so determined to misunderstand me?”
Of course she didn’t know about these things. She lived in a different world. One that was only an hour’s ride on horseback but might as well be as far as the moon.
“Or don’t you remember that the Commander promised us a better world?” she continued before he could respond. “One where no one lives in squalor.”
Nicolas Creed had promised to usher in a better world. But that world had yet to fully arrive.
“You think we weren’t impoverished before? You have no idea what the real world is like, Rune.
If you don’t want to look at ugly things, you don’t have to. You can pretend they don’t exist.”
“Beautiful heiresses might court common soldiers,” he said. “But they don’t marry them.”
Like the first hit of a drug, the moment people tasted power, they needed more to quench the craving.
“Then why are we here? If I’m so shallow—all trappings and no substance—what are you doing with me? Why would someone like you want someone like me?”
This is a game, he reminded himself, his chest tight. It means nothing. But if that were true, why did he feel like he was walking straight off a cliff, hoping he wouldn’t fall?
“THE LAST GIRL I fell in love with was a witch,” he said. Rune stiffened beside him.
And always, he could smell it on her: the coppery scent of a witch’s spells. “The Sister Queens were slowly torturing her.”
“You obviously didn’t know the Rosebloods. Witches are cruel by nature, but the Roseblood sisters were evil. They tortured and killed those who crossed them, then used the blood of their victims for their spells.”
“No, I mean … What you’re describing are Arcana spells, which are forbidden. Queen
Raine outlawed them centuries ago.”
“An Arcana is the highest level of spell a witch can cast,” she explained. “They require blood taken against someone’s will. The magic that results is powerful and deadly, but it corrodes the witches who use it. If the Roseblood sisters were casting Arcanas, they would have knowingly corrupted themselves.”
To play by the rules when everyone else disregards them—that is foolishness. Once you’ve seized power for yourself and those you love, you must do everything to keep it. Even sacrifice your soul. If you don’t, you’ll watch your loved ones harmed by those wanting what you have.
“The silk flower I made you took me two hours to sew.”
It’s a curse, Gideon, she said, pressing harder as he tried not to scream. One I will activate if you betray me again.
“You are not the things that happened to you, Gideon.” He wished that were true. “None of us can escape our pasts.”
The rose and crescent belonged to Cressida. A tattoo?
It’s not a tattoo, she realized, studying the red lines. It’s a brand.
Cressida had permanently marked Gideon as her property.
If I didn’t have to hide myself, she thought, who would I be? Who was the real Rune Winters?
They were alone, and playing a new game. One that was far more dangerous for Rune than for him.
“It’s not a crime to have loved a witch, Rune.” He bent toward her until their foreheads touched and his breath tangled with hers. “If it were, you wouldn’t be the only guilty one.”
This is a game, she told herself, nuzzling her face into his palm. It’s only pretend. It’s how she justified dragging her fingers through his hair and pulling his mouth down to hers.
But a girl who could outwit him thrilled Gideon too much to deny.
A girl who was entirely off-limits, because my little brother found her first.”
Is this still the game? she wondered. Or is this real? That she couldn’t tell unsettled her.
“If you were committed, Comrade,”
Ugh
But it wasn’t only her physical attributes that had him spinning. It was her kindness. Her thoughtfulness. Her wildness. It was her willingness to argue with him. If he wasn’t careful, he might fall in love with her.
After the New Dawn, Gideon hadn’t thought twice about infringing on the rights and freedoms of the New Republic’s citizens. He did what had to be done to protect them, and if that meant entering and searching their homes without warning, if it meant locking them in their quarters after dark, if it meant hauling them into interrogation rooms if they so much as questioned whether the purgings went too far, so be it. But that kind of power was easily abused. Gideon had seen soldiers take things way too far, and those kinds of measures now made him uneasy.
A thorny rose enclosed by a crescent moon.
“It belongs to a witch who should be dead.” His eyes met Laila’s. “Cressida Roseblood.”
Alex was constant and safe. Gentle and kind.
We must ensure people understand the severity of this situation. If they’re fearful enough, they’ll comply.”
People don’t like their rights infringed upon, sir.”
Maybe he could replace the voice in his head—the one that said he was worthless, disgusting, better off dead—with Nicolas’s voice. So that’s what he did. He used this man’s belief in him like a crutch. It took months. But, little by little, Nicolas’s faith in Gideon became indistinct from his own.
