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She thought of the way Verity was always poring over Rune’s spell books, her fingers tracing the symbols. Was she memorizing them?
The scent of her magic. But that would make Verity a witch. And if it was true, why hide herself from Rune, who was also a witch?
Except even here, at the end, her hate failed her. Rune knew what witches had done to his family. She knew the horrors he’d suffered at a witch queen’s hands.
In forgiving him, a strange thing happened: Rune found forgiveness for herself, too. For what she’d done to Nan. The thing she’d needed all this time was right there inside her.
would require a lot of power. And a lot of fresh blood. A terrible feeling was taking hold of Rune.
Rune felt her heart fall out of her chest. This was a living nightmare.
When Alex’s legs buckled beneath him, it was Rune who was there to catch him.
Rune glanced at Cressida, whose face had gone white, her mouth a grim line.
Her fingers moved as if possessed, the magic itself guiding her. The moment she finished one mark, she started on the next. Is this what being a witch is supposed to feel like? Good. Easy. Right.
Watched Alex cradle Rune’s face in his hands, and Rune lean down to kiss him. And that’s when Gideon’s steps faltered.
The metallic tang of blood magic spread through the air, mingling with another scent. Salt. Like the sea.
It was painful to look at her. For two years, Rune had trusted the girl across the cabin with her life, believing she was Verity de Wilde.
What are we to each other now? And what would Cressida expect from Rune when they landed on the Continent?
She tore her gaze away from Cressida, unable to deny the Gideon-shaped hole in her chest—like a bullet wound.