I ran through the mansion, asking servants if they'd seen my older sister. No one had. I scoured our home, getting a little more anxious when I couldn't find Evvie. Just on the verge of giving up, I heard her delighted laughter.

What is she doing in there?

Sending a quick message to my mother, I let her know I'd found my missing sister in the laundry.

As I approached the laundry room, there was such playfulness in Evvie's voice that it surprised me. "Gods, you're always such a baby...just stay still, stop shifting around and let me finish."

I opened the door, her name on the tip of my tongue, and there it stayed.

Evvie sat on top of a washing machine in her gown with an ostentatious tiara sparkling in her hair. Standing right in front of her was Caidan Crowther. And not only that, he was shirtless.

I was rooted to the spot, stunned.

Caidan was the same height as Graysen, but his body was bigger and brawnier. Amongst the whirls of tattooed flames coiling across his broad chest, there didn't seem to be as many Ukkenskrit tales as his older brother's. Caidan's hair was undercut and had a beach-swept feel to the longer locks. Violet eyes, the same shade as an amethyst, were locked on my sister.

While my sister cleaned the blood from his neck with a damp cloth, he was staring at her. Watching every movement. Every nuance playing across her exquisite features. And his eyes were unguarded. It floored me what I saw in their depths...yearning.

As yet, neither of them had realized I lingered beside the open door.

Evvie dabbed at his neck, glancing upward. "I missed a spot."

Caidan blinked and the yearning was wiped clean from his face. "You've been at this for ages," he grumbled without any bite to his tone.

"It's not my fault you bled like a stuck pig."

I could see there was no blood left on him, but she traced a finger along his neck as if there were, murmuring, "Here, here...and here," until she reached his ear, and then she ruthlessly flicked the tip.

He yowled, jerking away and pressing a hand to his stinging ear. "What the fuck?!"

Lunging forward, he dug his fingers into her sides, tickling her.

She twisted away howling in laughter, slapping at his hands. "Get off!"

He stopped tickling, but he braced his hands on either side of her, boxing her in.

"You've messed up my hair," she glared playfully. Her tiara sat on an awkward lean on top of her head and it wobbled. She went to adjust it, but he got there first, plucking it from her head.

He scowled at the diamonds crusting the silver, and the glittering emeralds the size of robin eggs. "You don't need to wear this. Could it be any more ridiculous?"

Evvie tried to grab it from him, but he held it above his head out of reach, making a tsk-ing sound.

"It's a gift from the Pelans. They want me to wear it tonight."

He held her worried gaze with an impish smile that dimpled his cheeks. I watched in horror as his fingers crushed the tiara in half. Diamonds popped free, scattering all over the floor like raindrops, the chink of emeralds following.

Evvie's mouth fell open and her eyes bugged wide. "Oh my gods... You did not just do that?!"

"Whoops," he grinned.

Delicate hands flew to her temples. "How the hells am I going to explain that?"

Caidan shrugged nonchalantly before tossing the broken tiara over his shoulder. It hit the tiles, skittering over the floor to strike the bottom of one of the dryers across the room.

Her eyes narrowed on him, and her mouth thinned to a mean line. "I'll have to tell them you broke it."

"Me?"

Mischief sparkled in her gaze as she arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'll tell them you sat down on your big fat ass and broke it."

He sucked in a shocked gasp, slapping a broad hand across the wyrm branded above his heart with mock offense. "My big fat ass?"

"Yeah, your big fat ass." She jabbed him in the stomach with a finger. "It matches your big fat mouth."

He tipped his head back and roared in laughter, his whole body shuddering, while my mind was racing to catch up with what I was seeing.

My sister...knows Caidan?

My fingers tightened on the door handle and it lurched downward with a loud squeak.

Both of them startled, swinging my way.

Evvie started to see me standing there and I watched the surprise and shock transform into guilt and apology at being found here having fun with one of the Crowther brothers. "Nelle," she greeted, shame pinking her cheeks.

"What's going on?" My astonished gaze darted between them both as I stepped inside. Muggy heat warmed the large room from dryers tumbling clothing in their metal bellies.

"We're just washing his shirt," Evvie answered, entwining her fingers together anxiously on her lap.

Caidan twisted around to lean right beside my sister. So close their shoulders touched, but neither of them shifted away. In fact...did she just lean closer to him?

"Why?" I addressed this to Caidan. Why would he need his dress shirt washed and why the hells was Evvie doing it herself and not handing the job over to one of our servants to do? "Wouldn't there be a shirt you could borrow? Perhaps from our father?"

Then, perhaps because Evvie was a little tipsy—not that I'd seen her drinking—or maybe simply because she couldn't help herself, she perked up and smiled with mischief. "Nelle." She gestured to Caidan as if it were obvious. "I doubt he could fit his ego-inflated head into one of our father's shirts."

"Oh, for the ever-living fuck," he grumbled, "I have an ego-inflated fat head now? And it's a shirt, I don't need to poke my head through a neckline."

"But you need to be able to do up the collar around your big fat neck."

"Gods," he hissed at her, before turning to me to say, "It's my lucky shirt."

"Oh, your lucky shirt, is it?" Evvie snort-laughed. "You were wearing it when you got punched in the face. What kind of lucky shirt is that?"

Caidan got punched? The surprise of it rattled through my mind. He was a Crowther. No one dared lay a finger on a Crowther. No one even would get close enough to even try either. I frowned. "Who punched you?"

"Graysen. Broke his nose." Evvie gave Caidan a sidelong look filled with curiosity as well as cheekiness. "He probably deserved it."

"What the?" He rounded on her with an appalled look and pointed at his nose. "He broke my nose. It fucking hurt."

"Aw, poor baby, I bet it did. Did you cry big fat tears of pain?"

"Aw, fuck. You are so mean."

"Do you want me to kiss it better?"

Delight lit up his eyes. "Well, I wouldn't say no to that," he purred with a wink.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"I did not, wholly, deserve it," he said, crossing his arms over his barrel chest and jutting his bottom lip out a fraction.

"Sure, Caidan," she drawled as if she didn't believe him. "Besides being a gossip, you're a stirrer."

"Why?" I asked, interrupting their banter. Why would Graysen punch his brother? It didn't surprise me, but I was curious.

Caidan's attention swung to me, but he merely stared back silently, and I couldn't read anything in his gaze. He'd effectively shut me out, just as well as his older brother could.

Evvie answered after realizing he was going to remain silent on the subject. "He won't tell me why. Which is incredibly unusual—"

His eyebrows rose sharply, as he cut in with a sideways glance. "Unusual?"

"You sing like a canary for me. All. The. Time."

Black waves of hair ruffled as he shook his head, but he was huffing a laugh at the same time. "I do not."

"You're the biggest gossip. Worse than the Estlore girls."

His eyes widened as he straightened his spine. "Oh, you crossed the line there. The Estlore girls? Those gossip mongers?"

"Maybe that's what I should call you from now on," she taunted him. "Caidy Estlore."

For a moment, something painful swept across Caidan's features at the name, before a sunny expression returned to his handsome face. "Caidy? Caidy Estlore?" he choked.

My gaze flitted between them.

How the fuck does Evvie know Caidan?

I mean, we all knew one another, but this was different. There was such familiarity between them—this clearly wasn't a new friendship.

A different kind of hurt flooded through my chest. My sister had hidden her friendship with Caidan from me, all this time, and it stung to discover she'd kept a secret. "He's a Crowther." It slipped out, quietly, breathlessly, unintended. But damned if I was going to let my sister be sucked in by one of those brothers.

"Observant," Caidan grinned at me, his cheeks dimpling. But his grin faltered at my blistering cold glare. His throat bobbed and he rubbed the back of his neck with discomfort. Evvie's blue-green eyes met mine and she shifted with unease on the washing machine. She knew how I felt about being tied to Graysen—

Well...not everything.

Those amethyst eyes of Caidan's became more shrewd as he leaned back against the washing machine, readjusting his brawny arms over his chest. "How's the weekend been with my brother? He hasn't said much about it."

I blinked.

What the fuck did you just say?

That's what I was just about to ask. Because why wouldn't Graysen be telling his close-knit brothers everything? Including who won that fucking bet. And the winner was right in front of me, toying with my sister. Bitterness slashed through my veins and pinched my lips into a thin line.

Evvie answered for me. "Much the same. Those two at each other's throats."

He hummed thoughtfully, a hand rising to his mouth, fingers brushing back and forth over his lips as he studied me intently.

That's when I realized the state of his nose was practically pristine. There was no swelling or bruises. Nothing at all to indicate that he'd just been punched.

"Your nose...it's healed," I breathed, surprised.

He shrugged, glancing downward as he lowered his hand to curl around the edge of the washing machine. "My mother's bloodline—"

"Unnatural healing," Evvie finished for him. She leaned over and pinched his nose trying to wiggle it.

He jerked his head back and snapped his hand up to bat hers away. "Get off," but he was grinning widely.

My gaze fixed on Caidan.

Tabitha Crowther. No one talked about the Crowthers' mother. Years ago I'd asked once why Varen's wife looked so much like him. Lise laughed, and because my mother looked so pale and clearly couldn't speak, it was my older sister who told me that Valarie was Varen's twin sister. My mother whispered to me that Tabitha Crowther had died.

Squinting, I could see a thicking of skin at the bridge of his nose as if it indeed had been broken. I pointed to it. "But that bump—"

"We keep the scars we're given," he replied gruffly, scowling and glancing away.

I wasn't sure what that meant.

Evvie must have read the confusion on my face because she elaborated. "Normally their wounds don't leave behind a scar. But the Crowthers have this stupid tradition of keeping the scars they give each other."

"Gods, woman," he whipped back and growled. "It's not stupid."

My mind started spinning—

Keep the scars they give each other—

It was there, right there, like tattered moth wings fluttering inside a paper lantern, the answer to Graysen's scarred back beating against my mind.

Just before I could grasp the puzzle pieces and lock them into place, Evvie interrupted, asking brightly, "What are you doing here?"

I answered automatically, without really thinking about how it'd be received. "Momma's looking for you. The Houses are arriving and she wants you there to greet them."

And I felt like an asshole as the brightness in Evvie's eyes dimmed as she remembered who she was, and what was happening tonight, right outside those doors. "Yes, of course," she answered in a thin reedy voice.

She went to jump down from the washing machine, but Caidan swung around, his hands gently wrapping around her hips. He carefully picked her up and placed her on the ground. Her slender fingers gripped his forearms to steady herself as she wobbled a little in her red-soled heels. Neither of them let go of the other.

Caidan brushed his thumbs back and forth on her waist while Evvie smiled up at him, and her whole face lit right up. I'd never seen that radiant smile on her before. Not with Corné, not with any boy that had drawn her eye over the years.

Both of them were caught up in their moment and didn't even realize or care I was still in the room. I noticed Evvie's fingers softly spreading across his biceps, how her chest rose and fell with quickened breath, and that she bit down on her bottom lip shyly.

I felt like a voyeur. I shouldn't be here, watching this. This was an intimate moment and I felt awful for intruding.

"Your lucky shirt's probably dry by now," she whispered to him. I think she meant to make a joke of it, but if she did, she failed dismally. It sounded like a breathless invitation.

Caidan lowered his head and his mouth parted—

I didn't know if he was going to tell her something or kiss her, but I needed to get the hells out of there. I was turning to slink out when one of her arm sleeves slipped.

My breath left me in a whoosh. "Evvie?"

She jerked her head my way, and her wondrous smile faded as she saw my horrified expression.

"What did he do to you?" I breathed out, barely a whisper. I was at her side in five purposeful strides.

Caidan's gaze followed my hands as I yanked up Evvie's sleeve, then the other.

Bruises—fingerprints—a purplish hue, banded around her arm like a bracelet. And to my horror, there were more bruises on her other arm—older, more yellow and mottled green petals, amongst fresh ones.

Caidan's nostrils flared, and anger creased his forehead as he glared fiercely.

Evvie's face paled, as her panicked gaze bounced between us both. She tried to free herself from Caidan, but he held on tight.

"Who the fuck did this?" he demanded roughly.

Her mouth parted to reply, but nothing came out.

Caidan and I shared a look of rage, both of us knew exactly who had done this to her.

"Corné," I muttered when my sister remained silent.

I twirled my wrist to free a long loop of my adamere bracelet and I clenched it with a fist. I'm going to fucking end him!