My hand trembled. Amber liquid sloshed up the sides of my tumbler. I switched the glass from one hand to the other, but that was no better. Choosing to down all the whiskey, I shoved the empty tumbler at a passing servant, before dropping my hands to my sides. Shaking my wrists, I rolled my neck and rotated my shoulders, trying to shake off the incessant connection.

Her fury burned beneath my skin. It took up almost every inch of my body. It was getting hard to even think. I didn't know how I felt her. Why I would. But I had no doubt who was making me feel this way. Nelle.

Whatever it was that tied us together had intensified.

The blood—

The blood we shared when we'd bitten each other's lips. We'd kissed and our blood had mingled. I'd felt something small and warm and golden at the time, a kernel sinking down my throat into the pit of my gut, burying itself deep inside.

And now it glowed, red hot with her fury.

Where is she, where is she, where is she, where is she, where is she—

Fuck, stop it!

What's wrong, what's wrong, what's wrong—

I had no right. I did not care—

I do not care!

I cannot care!

I rubbed my face, raking my hand through my hair, tugging hard—hard enough to hurt.

Fuck, first the kiss, now blood.

What the hells is going on?

What is she? What are we together?

Someone's voice, sultry and seductive, purred my name. My gaze snapped into focus, resting on the dark-haired beauty in front of me. I hadn't realized I'd been staring.

Carola Pelan and her sisters were at it again. Boring the fuck out of me. The sisters and their pretty friend had cornered Jett and myself ten minutes ago, and like the obtuse Pelans they were, they had no idea my brother was making fun of the conceited younger sister. She had the slightest of lisps and Jett was busy trying to get her to say anything with an 'S.'

Carola's friend smiled suggestively at me. What was her name? Laila, Lela? Fucked if I could remember. All I could smell was Corné's sandalwood scent all over her. The stench of it almost made me gag.

She batted long lashes, softening those deep chocolate eyes. Her fingers pinched a lock of hair, slowly running through its dark length, right down to where it ended right at her plump cleavage.

Lust stung my nostrils.

Even fresh from fucking Corné, she wanted me. Mistress or not, she was obviously open for business. I could take her to bed if I wanted. A quick tumble, and soundly nail the coffin shut on my relationship with Nelle.

Be the bastard she thought.

Be the bastard I am.

"Graysen," she purred once more, stepping so close I could feel her body heat washing against my own.

Beautiful—yes, she was. Her gaze brimmed with desire, and she ran her tongue sensually along her bottom lip to lick up the glistening beads of champagne. She placed her hand on my chest and twined her fingers around my tie, giving it a playful tug.

But all I could think of, all I could feel, was Nelle. Fuck, her rage scorched my insides—who, what was responsible?

She could lose it.

She could reveal herself.

And where would that leave me?

This was the wrong place to show herself as other. Every single House was here and the Horned Gods were on their way.

Laila-Lela tilted her head to the side, the fine skin surrounding her eyes crinkling. "Are you all right?"

No, I sure as fuck wasn't.

She lifted a hand and drew her forefinger languidly along my cheekbone. "Maybe..." another lick along her red-coated lips, "I could make you feel better."

I resisted the urge to shudder and went to slap her hand away when movement caught my eye.

Evvie ran into the marquee, a hand hitched in her skirt, and her eyes were wild and wide, searching the tent until her gaze landed on me.

A cold feeling slithered down my spine. Panic radiated from her.

Jett grinned at me. "Annika was telling me about...?" He turned back to Annika. "What was that place? Sabel-sur-Sarthe?"

But I was gone in a blast of speed—

And slammed to a halt in front of Evvie.

Breathless, she fell against me. One of her hands gripped my forearm hard while the other fluttered above her chest as she tried to ease her panting breath.

"Evvie?"

"Nelle..." she gasped. "Corné. She's—"

"Going to tear him into shreds." That's what I was feeling. What burned through me. Rage against Corné. "Why?"

"Me..." Evvie's guilt coated my tongue. She implored me with wide eyes, begging me to help. "I couldn't stop her when she saw—"

"Your bruises." It tripped off my tongue before I could catch it.

She gave a sudden intake of breath. "You knew...?"

I gritted my teeth. "It's one of Corné's specialties." Probably the nicest of his traits. "Where is she?"

"The laundry. Caidan's there. But I don't know...I don't know if he'll be able to stop her."

Lurching forward, I was halted by Evvie squeezing my arm hard. "I'm coming," she demanded, spinning around to follow.

Gods. Running alongside Evvie, her pace slowed down by her six-inch heels, was excruciating. So much so that a moment later I swept her up in my arms. She let out a startled yelp but wound her arms around my neck, and I surged forward, racing across the lawn to the mansion in a rush of unnatural speed. Evvie gave directions as to where to head through the rooms and hallways and a moment later I used my back to slam into the laundry door causing it to crash open, before spinning around and placing Evvie on her feet.

The laundry...the muggy heat from a tumbling dryer...and rage coated the hot moist air...such wrath.

Caidan's scent lingered along with Nelle's. But neither of them were present.

Just Corné. The fucker was on his ass, pale and shaking, his left cheek bruised and swollen. Red wine was splashed all over the white tiled floor along with shattered glass, a warped metal canister, and washing powder. The blue grains dusted Corné's black tuxedo.

I was about to whirl away and track Nelle down when Evvie's expression stopped me.

Her complexion had turned a sickly shade and her eyes seemed so large they swallowed the rest of her features. She stared at Corné, unblinking. It seemed as if she didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to soothe Corné's bitter hate.

Why the fuck should she?

As much as everything inside of me was screaming to find Nelle, I couldn't leave Evvie with this fucker. Wychthorn obviously had a good go at him and I assumed Caidan had stopped her before she went too far. But Corné was going to take out his anger on someone else who didn't have the steel spine my little bird had.

"Corné?" Evvie took tentative steps toward Corné and crouched beside him. She went to cup his face to inspect the savage wounds bruising his cheek. He slapped her hands away, snarling. "Your sister's fucking feral."

Oh, he did not fucking say that in front of me.

He shot his gaze to mine, his eyes burning with hate. "Much like you, your brothers, your godsdamned family," he spat, gingerly touching his wounds. "She certainly fits in with you lot."

Yes, she does.

I was about to grab hold of the fucker and throttle him when Evvie reached for him again. Her hands moved to his shoulders, and she breathed soft, soothing sounds as she rubbed his upper arms. Corné grabbed hold of her wrists and shoved her back viciously. "Get your hands off of me!"

Evvie let loose a startled cry as she rocked off-kilter, her arms flailing to right herself. I was there in a surge of motion before she fell backward, steadying her balance and helping her rise.

"Leave, Crowther." Corné lips thinned cruelly. "I want to have a word with my fiancée. Alone."

As the son of an Upper House, he had every right to tell me what to do. Except...well, I was a Crowther and we didn't take to assholes telling us what to do. Never have. Never will. So I remained where I stood.

"Get the fuck out!" he bellowed.

"Fuck off, Pelan," I snarled.

Besides, there was one other person here who held a higher rank than either of us. But Evvie had shrunk inside herself with fear strangling her thoughts and voice.

My gaze flicked from Evvie to Corné to the door to the laundry.

Where is she, where is she, where is she, where is she, where is she—

Wychthorn's fury still burned brightly inside me.

I needed to find her before she lost herself.

Everything, every molecule of my body, was screaming at me to find her, find her now.

But I knew what was going to happen to Evvie if I left her alone with Corné. This time he wouldn't stop at the bruises on her arms.

Trembling, Evvie drew away in tiny steps, heaving panicked breaths, at a complete loss as what to do, how to fix this with Corné.

My intentions resolved, I shifted closer to her. I couldn't help Nelle. I couldn't put an end to the Alverac. But I could do this for her. I could help her sister.

I gave Evvie's hand a reassuring squeeze. Her gaze slowly traveled down to where I'd looped my fingers about hers. I whispered low enough Corné wouldn't hear. "Evvie, end this now before it's too late. You don't have to marry this motherfucker."

Corné was too busy caught up in his own misery, whining about how Wychthorn had used her bracelet like a whip and attacked him, to overhear what I was saying to Evvie.

Actual pride swelled in my chest. Wychthorn was a fury unlike any other. Sharp and clever and resourceful. Fuck, I hope she never took to me with that bracelet. She'd broken my nose with her fist and laid waste to my cheekbones with her palm. I couldn't imagine what Corné's freckled face would look like if she actually unleashed on him completely.

"I can't," Evvie whispered back, heavy despondency lacing her words.

"Then put him in his place."

Her dark eyelashes fluttered shut, and I sensed her despair, her terror, her fear of not knowing what to do, how to do it.

"Where's that fire you burn with?" She'd threatened to end my life last night if I ever locked Nelle up in darkness. And I'd fucking believed her, too.

My jaw clenched. This girl, right here, was a faint shadow of the haughty woman who liked to shoot foul glares and silent threats at me whenever I joined Nelle for the day.

"You're a Wychthorn, Evvie," I said, steel edging my words. She needed to be reminded of who she was and where she came from. "Great House Wychthorn. Your family has ruled for centuries."

Evvie's eyes flashed open wide in astonishment—probably because I was the one reminding her of her lineage. I felt her fingers tighten around mine as she locked her spine straight and focused her attention on me and what I was imparting.

"You come from a long line of imperious females. Just as strong as their husbands and ruling in their own right," I continued, sharpening my gaze. "You bow to no one. We're the ones kneeling at your feet." Evvie stared back at me, seeing me but not seeing me, as if her mind was churning through what I'd just said. "You wouldn't let anyone treat your baby sister the same way you've allowed Corné to treat you." Then I put it more simply. "What would Nelle do?"

Evvie slowly blinked, the glassiness in her gaze seeping away. She stared long and hard at me, long enough that I started feeling uncomfortable. Her features became curious, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "I've never heard you say her name before."

Huh?

Shock rippled through me, and—godsdammit—a pleased feeling. I'd always distanced myself from Nelle by calling her Wychthorn or little bird.

Corné went to rise, and Evvie's attention whirled from me to him. Her shoes slid through the glass littered at her feet, widened and braced. She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head slightly...and that stance reminded me of Caidan.

An unexpected thought barreled through me—Just what had Caidan been doing in here with Evvie and Nelle?

A feeling wound through me, bitter and unwanted—jealousy...

...only to disappear when I felt the shift inside Evvie and tasted her strength. "No, you don't," she snapped, shoving Corné off balance with a heel to his shoulder.

He fell back on his ass, a startled noise escaping his throat.

As Evvie stepped closer, her shadow engulfed him, and the fire gathering in her eyes reminded me of Nelle. "You, stay exactly where you're supposed to. On your knees before me."

His mouth opened and closed like fish landed on the bottom of a boat. I grinned. It was a good look on him.

"I am the Wychthorn and you..." Her head cocked to the side, eyes narrowing as if she were sizing him up and trying to find the right words for him to understand. "You are nothing but a son of a lower house—"

Corné breathlessly uttered, with a hint of outrage, "Upper House Pelan—"

"No, Corné," she snarled. "To the Great House Wychthorn, everyone is lower. We bow to no one. I will never, never, do you hear me—bow to you."

"We're to be married." But it came out weak and pathetic.

She unwound her arms and rested her hands on her hips. "Oh, but you see, Corné, there's a lot of time between then and now. And my father...well, he's not so sure about you, anymore. Neither am I."

Corné gasped. "Byron can't break the betrothal; he needs us too much."

The sweetest lies are told with a smile. Doubt comes in the form of silence. Evvie simply let her smile curve upward like a gloating cat and remained silent.

Corné's horrified hazel eyes slid to mine and Evvie followed his line of sight. "Here's the thing about Crowthers, Corné. They don't hide behind big desks and spreadsheets and push buttons to tell someone else what to do." She gave me a sideways look, a dark smile playing her lips, knowing Corné was watching. "They're thieves, soul stealers, death-dealers..."

I stared as if I'd never seen Evvie before, and in truth, I hadn't—just a glimpse last night when she'd threatened me. I chewed back my grin. Evvie had fangs and claws just like Nelle.

"I've spent a lot of time with Graysen while he's been courting my little sister." Another blatant lie, but what would Corné know?

I blinked rapidly.

And what the actual fuck?

Courting?

Evvie stepped sideways so she was flush at my side, glancing up she gave me a devious wink. "Graysen's shared such interesting ideas...such fascinating ways to make someone suffer."

I let my mouth curl into a feral smile, playing the same game, as we both turned our attention back to Corné.

Corné's throat bobbed once, twice. His wide hazel eyes darted frantically between us both. I supposed that, right now, to Corné we made quite the villainous pair. I slung an arm around Evvie's shoulder. "That's enough toying with Pelan, Evvie. He looks a little green."

She tilted her head and pouted. "Shame."

Gods, she really did channel her little sister.

I gave him one more kick while he was down, growling, "If I see another bruise on Evvie. If I see her smile falter at something you've said. If I see even a hint of sadness. I will fucking end you."

"No, you won't," Evvie snapped. And for a moment those words hung in the air between us all. Worry sank into me, then vanished as soon as she said, "I will." She gifted Corné a deadly smile promising vengeance. "I will be the one to end you Corné, I promise you that." A sly look to me, another wink. "But I'll let Graysen hand me the blade to do it with."

Corné looked terrified.

She barked a laugh. "Gods, you have every right to be terrified of me, Corné. Because I will be marrying you." She bent lower so they were eye to eye. "I have plans for you, Corné. I have plans for your entire family."

Corné's freckly face went ashen, as he finally realized what he should have done from the beginning. He'd let a wolf into his House.

Evvie sighed as if thoroughly annoyed with him. "From this point forward you will keep your nasty hands to yourself. You don't speak to me, you don't touch me, and when we're married, you will never, ever, grace my bed. Do you hear me?"

And still, Corné couldn't speak.

She bellowed, "Do we understand one another, Pelan?!"

He nodded, a jerky motion.

Satisfied, Evvie rose, turning my way. With her back to Corné, she whispered, "Thank you."

"I have a blade anytime you want to slit that motherfucker's throat," I whispered back.

She grinned, but then her smile faltered into worry. She gripped my upper arm. "You need to find Nelle—now."