Arrogant asshole, prick, motherfucker, egotistical dickhead—

My ass still tingled where Graysen had slapped it.

While Sage quickly disappeared on me, no doubt to go and dig up one of his old bones to gnaw at, Graysen had kept up his stupid-ass chant for ages. I could hear it from inside my bedroom until it drove me so mad I started throwing my stress ball against the wall separating our two rooms in a ricochet of annoying thuds. He turned his music up, loud, every so often roaring that I wanted to kiss him.

Infuriated, I'd stormed out, needing to go for a run, to burn myself and that creature out. Except I hadn't gone just yet.

Kiss him? In your dreams, Crowther!

Still annoyed, I flung birdseed through the aviary. My mother's thrushes and finches and sparrows were gathered on the long grass greedily pecking at the seeds.

A chinking noise made me turn.

My mother sat primly on the wooden bench with a teapot in her shaky hands. The teapot's spout rattled against the fine china tea cup as she tried to pour herself a fresh cup.

Long blades of grass brushed against my shins as I padded quickly over to where she sat, taking the teapot from her cold hands. "Here, let me."

The amber liquid splashed within the cup and on wisps of steam, the smell of bergamot floated through the air. I carefully handed the cup and saucer to her and they shook a little in her trembling grip. Her blue eyes were glassy and held a faraway quality, but she was smiling. "Thank you, Nelle."

Sitting down beside her, I smoothed my skirt over my thighs, and stretched my legs long, curling my toes into the grass like it was a plush carpet. We did this every morning before I disappeared into the woodland. I fed the birds while she sipped tea. Both of us mostly quiet in each other's company.

I sighed, pushing aside the conflicting emotions Graysen had stirred within me this morning, rolling my neck and closing my eyes briefly, feeling the warmth of the morning sun coating my face. It was a glorious summer morning. Thin streaks of clouds in a bright blue sky promised an afternoon of blistering heat. Amongst the chittering bird life and the gentle burble of water flowing from the birdbath, the soft drone of insects added a layer of melody to my mother's humming as she smiled, watching the bustle of men and women spreading around the flattened marquee adjusting ropes and pulleys as they readied to raise the roof.

"It'll be magnificent when it's finally set up for tomorrow night," I said, toying with the folds of the pale blue dress I wore. Evvie had shown me her moodboard and talked endlessly about all the things she wanted for the evening event. She was more focused on the actual engagement party than the Horned Gods' blessing that would take place first.

A chilling sensation shuddered down my spine. I certainly couldn't say that I was looking forward to that either.

My mother blinked at me as if just realizing I was still there. "Oh, yes. Indeed."

I hooked an arm along the back of the wooden bench. My bracelet clinked with the movement and it drew her attention to the adamere beads. Slowly, ever so slowly she reached out pinching a fingertip and thumb around a bead rubbing it back and forth. "It was a good idea of your father's."

I didn't move a muscle. I wasn't even sure I was breathing.

We'd never talked about that year. All those times she'd locked me up in the tithe prison when my father had been away. It just ended as soon as Lise broke her promise to our mother.

My father had taken me aside, kneeling down so we were eye to eye, gruffly promising—It'll never happen again. Those words broke me more than being trapped in darkness, and I'd burst into tears, clinging to him. He hugged me, holding me for what seemed like an eternity. Those arms wrapped around me felt safe and protective. It also felt like a deep apology. I could have stayed there forever.

And afterward, even though my father promised to keep me safe, I still didn't trust her. I was wary and tried to keep out of her way. Terror had wrapped itself around me when my father left for another trip out of state, but to my utter relief, she didn't lock me up.

The birds in the aviary chirped as they flew between the birch trees. My mother set aside her cup of tea to take hold of the necklace I wore like a bracelet. She untangled the long length of beads from my wrist and held it up, sunlight striking off the glassy-silvery whirls of adamere as the strands twisted this way and that. "It belonged to your great-great-aunt."

After the tithe prison, my father dug it out of our ancestors' treasure trove and gave it to me. We had spent time together as he explained his idea—my own version of a rosary to induce calm and use it as a tool to bring myself and the creature to heel.

As the sparrows and finches pecked noisily at the seeds I'd tossed about the long grasses, my mother handed the necklace back to me and I rewound it around my wrist. She was still caught in the hazy world in which those little pills kept her, but there was a spark of lucidity in her blue eyes. "I didn't know how to handle you. Your father has always been better with you than me."

I gently brushed her arm. "That's not true Momma."

Her long lashes fluttered and her cheeks curved with a slight smile as she gave me a look as if to say—Thanks, but it's true.

Although sometimes hate ate away at me at what she'd done, I understood why she'd locked me away. The year that took my father away from our home, something was amiss with the Houses, with the Horned Gods themselves. There'd been talk of others being hunted in the hushed conversations between my parents, and there'd been discord between them too. They were worried for me. They were also worried about what would happen to our House if I was discovered.

And my mother...it was like a switch had been pulled. One day, on—smiles and laughter and teasing. The next day—off. She'd withdrawn and become nervous and introspective as if...as if something was rotting her from the inside.

I'd always attributed that to me.

She'd said I'd been a fussy baby, crying a lot. Even then, I couldn't stand the baby clothes or being swaddled in cloth. I spent my younger years naked—crawling, taking my first wobbly steps, then walking, running—until Evvie had coaxed me into a dress that didn't cling.

My strength and senses were beginning to sharpen and, at seven years old, I hadn't yet realized I shared my body with the creature but I could still feel something stirring. Like the wind when my temper exploded. The earth trembling beneath my bare feet too. And things were beginning to snap and shatter, even if I weren't touching them. Like Lise's wrist when we argued over a stupid Barbie doll.

That's when my mother dragged me to the tithe prison, writhing and screaming, sobbing for forgiveness. I hadn't meant to hurt Lise.

Without my father by her side, she was afraid of me, afraid for her other daughters, and terrified because she didn't know what to do, or how to handle me.

I was afraid of myself too. I didn't understand the strange affliction either. The creature, the power manifesting inside, had matured with me. It wasn't until after being freed from the tithe prison I finally felt it slithering inside and heard its hisses and rumbles of chuckling.

Basking in the sun rays cast within the aviary, my mother picked up her teacup and matching saucer.

"What happened to you, Momma?"

She squeezed her eyes shut.

And again, my breath was held tight in my chest. What had happened to her to become like this, her bright soul dulled.

The words came out in a raw whisper. "I had to make a choice. One I'd make again. But one I can't forgive myself for."

A cold feeling crept on me.

Why do I have a terrible feeling this is about me?

But when she opened her eyes, love shone brightly. And I bathed in it greedily.

Taking a long sip of tea, she placed the cup on the small table sitting beside the bench seat and rose, smoothing back her hair even though it was immaculately polished, not a strand out of place. She primped the elegant dress suit and the pearls around her neck. "I should go and see what needs to be done."

"Can I help with anything, Momma?" I asked, rising too. I dug my toes into the earth, rolling the balls of my feet upon the grass as I shifted my weight from foot to foot. The power inside me slunk beneath my skin, filling me completely with a wild intensity that thrummed in my blood, demanding release. I felt edgy and restless, but I'd put off burning it out for a little longer if my mother needed me.

She brushed my hair over a shoulder. I was wearing it loose, my hair so long it fell almost to the dip in my back. She gave me a blinding smile, the kind she wore when I was a child. My soul burst with warmth. "No sweetheart. It's all taken care of." This was the standard line she'd given me most of my life and disappointment fell through me. I was one of her pretty birds, nice to look at but all for show. She wanted all my energy spent on keeping hidden, even though I would have loved to have been included, been part of it all. Through the bars of the grand aviary, I spied my sister with her fiancé as they breezed across the lawn. My gaze snagged on Corné's arm bound possessively around Evvie's waist and it reminded me of last night, of how he'd gripped her wrist too tight and hurt her. My blood simmered with anger. I really didn't want this engagement to continue.

I tore my gaze away, returning my attention to my mother who was still smiling back at me. I don't know why I said such a stupid thing. I just wanted to keep her in this moment of happiness a little bit longer. Maybe simply to earn more of these types of warm smiles from her. "After all this, you can help me plan my wedding."

And like the snap of fingers, her smile dimmed into a faded copy of its original, similar to the way she dressed in clothes she didn't pick out for the day but one of the servants did on her behalf. As if she were gliding through a life that was no longer hers. She slid a frail hand into her pocket and I heard the rattle of pills as her fingers clenched around the vial. "Graysen Crowther's not going to marry you."

I could only stare, stunned.

What?

I mean I knew that. But whenever she talked about Graysen—which we didn't like to do often—she'd say how she'd love to plan for a winter wedding.

Left dazed by her prediction, I watched my mother as she turned away, walking toward the aviary door and latching it behind her as she left. Caught within the cage she'd shut me in, I continued staring at her through the crisscross of the aviary's steel bars as she made her way toward the organized chaos to where Evvie and Corné stood conferring with the wedding planner. The trio stood near the mini-city of containers housing all the furnishings needed for the engagement party. Across the lawn came the whir of machinery, and shouts between men and women as they set about unloading the large containers of tables and chairs and the parquet dance floor.

Rattled, I dug my hands into the bird feed we kept in a tall metal drum, scooping up one last handful of seeds. This time I flexed my fingers straight and held my palm out. A sparrow fluttered onto my wrist and began pecking at the small seeds.

My mind remained awhirl. What choice had she had to make? What had she done that she couldn't forgive herself for? What had turned her to those tiny white pills so she could live with herself?

Me? Was it about me?

A rich amused voice came from behind me. "Charming birds out of the trees?"

Startled, the sparrow darted away. I spun around, instantly beaming when I faced who that warm voice belonged to—Danne Pelan.

Looking striking in a casual pair of tan slacks and a navy polo shirt, he bowed as was customary when first greeting a Wychthorn from Great House. Sunlight glimmered over his neatly trimmed hair, turning it from deep bronze to copper. He straightened, a sunny grin splayed over his freckled features.

"Hi." I thought I'd be beyond excited to see him, but after my mother's half-confession I was too twisted up inside.

"Hey." He spread his arms wide. "Finally, I'm here."

We didn't hug, because we weren't at that stage in our friendship, but I hoped someday we would be. "Just arrived?" I asked. And I forced myself to shove all those uneasy feelings my mother had stirred down deep. Later, I'd think about it all later.

He gave a sheepish look, ruffling the back of his hair with a hand. "I actually came late last night." His nose scrunched. "After you refused to sneak away, I cut everything short and came here. But you were already asleep."

I blinked. "You didn't go to that little jazz bar?"

He gave a shake of his head.

Sage padded into the aviary. His ghostly shimmering body slipped through the metal bars like the wraith he was, shifting from the void back into a corporeal state once he'd passed through them. A rotting stench of mangy chicken clung to him. He'd obviously just finished gnawing at the treat Evvie had promised him last night. Stalking to my side he sat on his haunches, his eerie silvery eyes slitted and fixed on Danne.

My friend gave Sage a wary look. "He's massive. I'm always worried he's going to bite a chunk out of me."

Sage was so big and I was so short that his head was level with my waist. I stroked a hand over his wolfish head, scratching behind his ear. He was just a big cuddly puppy for me and my sisters. However, I gave Danne a sly look. "He will if I ask him to."

Danne startled, then broke into a chuckle when he saw I was kidding. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at his Zeitwerk wristwatch before tucking his hand into the pocket of his slacks. The movement pulled his polo shirt across his slightly paunchy belly.

I suddenly realized he looked jaded. There were shadows beneath his eyes and he hadn't shaved. A bit of scruff lined his jaw. "You okay? You look a little tired."

"Work's been a little manic." He shrugged a shoulder. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Here." I held my fist out, waiting for him to cup his hand beneath mine before I tipped birdseed into his palm. My mother's birds were tame enough that they fed from him too. Stretching his arm long, he laughed softly in delight at the finch that landed on his hand and then begin bobbing its head rapidly, its talons gripping his finger tighter, as it gobbled down the seeds.

It gave me a moment to study him. Danne was so far removed from the likes of Graysen Crowther. Graysen was darkness—a winter midnight sky. He possessed stupidly beautiful features and a powerfully muscled body honed from the daily physical demands at the office. And Danne, a year older than me, was softer, boyishly charming with autumnal coloring. Safe, he promised. Comfortable, he assured with easy smiles.

"So tell me, how's it all going? What have you been up to?" Danne asked, scrubbing at his nose with a knuckle.

While Sage curled up beneath the shade of a tree, watching us with slitted silvery eyes, Danne and I chatted as we finished feeding the birds. There wasn't much I could tell him about last night. Graysen had tried to kiss me no less than three times so far. Jerk. So I skirted around those things. And I wasn't sure how to bring up his brother, Corné either, or Master Sirro. So we stuck to safe topics. I'd been worried about awkward pregnant pauses punctuating our conversation as we were still a brand new kind of friendship, still feeling one another out. But I needn't have worried because Danne pretty much did all the talking, sometimes cutting me off mid-sentence.

He jerked his chin in the direction of the construction workers and the madness taking place on the back lawn of the mansion. "Why don't we go and see what's going on out there."