I glared at the stocky little prick I had pinned up against the back wall of the garden shed. The collar of his fancy designer shirt bunched between my fingers as I used it to yank him closer. Snarling, I asked, "So what are you going to do from now on?"

Rocco's blotchy face scrunched as he wheezed out a pained groan.

Along with an array of other families, we'd been invited to House Battagli this morning for a summer brunch. The Battaglis were Aunt Rosa's family. Though now she was married to Harding and lived on the Lyons estate that shared the sinister Hemmlok Forest with two other Houses.

The morning had been pleasant enough. While the parents were socializing, enjoying their brunch set up beneath large sun umbrellas spread out over the terrace hugging the mansion, we kids were running amok across the lawns, trampling through the bushy gardens, and playing tag out in the orchard. That's when shit went down between Rocco Battagli and the Wychthorn girls. We were supposed to be subservient to Great House Wychthorn, and we were, but sometimes for us kids, it didn't quite work the same respectful way as it did for the adults.

Here, kids ruled.

And sometimes the Wychthorn sisters were disrespected.

I had Rocco shoved up against the orchard's garden shed. Salty droplets ran down his splotchy-red cheeks. He was sporting nasty-looking purplish welts across his temple from where he'd been hit with a barrage of acorns. Nelle Wychthorn might be a princess from Great House but she was a hellion and fiercely protective of her older sisters. Earlier this morning, while she'd been sitting up in an oak tree, she'd witnessed Rocco purposely splash her older sisters with mud, calling them names and mocking them in front of his little gang of pimply-faced assholes. She scrambled along the branch she'd been perched upon and snatched up handfuls of acorns, yelling at him to 'Shut your ugly fucking mouth!'

"Shut yours, Smellie-Nellie!" he'd shouted back at her.

Concealed in the copse of trees on the outskirts of the Battaglis' garden, I'd leaned against a knotted tree and watched it all go down with a hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter. Gods, the asshole thought Smellie-Nellie was so fucking original and had his chest puffed out like a peacock, parading back and forth in front of his friends. I knew he was going to get it from Nelle. She was going to retaliate and give no quarter.

A second later, he'd squealed like a piglet in pain.

Nelle fired a slew of acorns like gunshots and cussed up a storm, loosening a volley of vulgar phrases that rivaled my father's.

Rocco ran away with his tail between his legs and tears welling in his eyes.

However, I knew after Nelle showed him up in front of his friends, Rocco would get her back despite her lofty position as a daughter of Great House. Assholes like him always did. And Nelle couldn't help herself either, she was a fucking firecracker of temper. This wasn't the first time I'd had to take one of my peers aside and teach them a lesson—leave the youngest Wychthorn princess alone.

Shielded within the gloomy shadows the copse of trees provided, I'd kept a close eye on Nelle for the past hour She was running around with all the other kids amongst the olive trees near the garden shed with its charming thatch roof. The buzzing drone of insects competed against their shrill laughter and chatter. To counter the boredom and the bitterness of my day, I'd taken to carving, slicing the tip of my knife over a small piece of wood, while breathing in the fresh smells of greenery and earthy compost.

And exactly as I thought it would happen.

It did.

Rocco snuck up on Nelle with his fists raised and an ugly scowl on his mean face, about to punch her in the back of her head like a coward.

I'd brushed away the tiny curls of wood shavings from my blazer and tucked the acorn and switchblade into the pocket of my pants. Surging forward as swift as a savage squall out from my hidden vantage point, darting between the olive trees I'd grabbed hold of Rocco by the scruff of the neck, and whirl us out of sight. I'd moved so fast, so fleetfooted, Nelle had no idea I'd saved her from being sucker punched.

I slammed Rocco against the wooden slats of the garden shed and walloped him in the guts. Not hard-hard, but hard enough for it to sting and for him to snap to attention. Essentially I was bullying the bully, but sometimes you've got to meet fire with fire. And for gods' sakes, Rocco was almost my age. What the hells was he doing picking on a little kid almost half his age?

My fingers clenched his collar tighter, and I asked Rocco again, "What are you going to do from now on?"

"Leave Nelle alone," he rasped, his round brown eyes shining with fear and chin quivering.

"And...?"

"And her sister's too."

"Good," I replied with a cold smile. Letting go of him, I quickly fixed up his collar and smoothed away the wrinkles in his shirt.

Keeping a wide wary eye on me, Rocco slid slowly sideways along the wall of the garden shed and then burst into a run as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

Whistling a merry tune my aunt had taught me, I sauntered out from behind the garden shed, leaving the gloom behind and entering the cheery, morning sunshine. Beyond the orchard, most of the younger kids were playing bullrush along the stretch of lawn in front of the grand terrace where the adults were gathered in clusters, catching up with one another. The busyness of the House Gathering was drawing to an end and a few of the families were getting ready to leave.

Spinning through the air was the sound of chatter and laughter, the exhilarated shouting from little kids, and softly playing music coming from outside speakers. I strolled closer to the mansion and spotted my family down on the lawn beside the low hedging of privet. "F-Find your p-parents will you, Gray!" my aunt called out. She'd kicked off her sandals and was wearing a casual summer dress in sky blue.

I raised a hand, indicating I'd heard. Sure, why the fuck not? It's not like I have anything else going on today. Aunt Valarie chased after my baby sister, Ferne, who was all chubby legs and gales of laughter as she ran across the green lawns trying to evade my aunt. She squealed in excitement her black hair whipping behind her like a line of glossy ink.

As I headed toward the mansion, I stole a glance at the older crowd of teenagers who were gathered around a few picnic tables beneath an arbor of grape vines. A small group of girls flirted with Kenton as he leaned against the wooden post talking to our younger brother Jett. Kenton did his thing. He was interested but also not, and mostly ignored the flirting teens.

Amongst the knot of girls was my best friend, Mela. She was chatting to Caidan but making moony eyes at Elyse.

And then all the air left my lungs.

Elyse was standing next to the Troelsen girl that I had a major—M.A.J.O.R.—crush on. My heart thumped against my ribs and nervous sweat instantly beaded on my palms. Hells, she was pretty. So fucking pretty. She glanced my way and smiled at me, her lovely jade eyes twinkling with warmth before she turned back to Mela to reply to something my best friend had asked.

She.

Smiled.

At.

Me.

And it made the sting of my birthday being forgotten by my family a little easier to bear.

A moment later, entirely distracted by the Troelsen girl's lovely smile and all the crazy energy coursing through my veins, I almost bumped into someone.

Nelle Wychthorn had stepped right in front of me and stopped, blocking my way.

I came to a stumbling halt, cursing beneath my breath.

She was a tiny thing. Her wild hair had been tangled up into a loose crown of pale blond locks with a white satin bow tied around the curls. A few strands of hair had come loose and dangled over her forehead, shadowing her gray eyes, which were currently narrowed and fixed on where I'd been staring.

Right on the pretty girl with jade eyes.

Alison Troelsen.

Nelle's freckled nose screwed up into a scowl when her gaze swiveled back to me and she pinned me with it. "Aren't you going to bow?" she demanded in her pipsqueak voice, folding her arms over her chest and sliding one tiny foot out across the blades of grass.

Fuck me, this weird kid had an attitude.

Yes, I knew I should have bowed before her as soon as we'd met. Those were the rules of etiquette amongst the Houses. We bowed before Great House Wychthorn.

I barely refrained from rolling my eyes and bowed, noting how she wiggled her dirty toes through the grass as she shifted her stance. There were even rips in her too-big dress and berry stains too. Nelle was nothing like her older sisters who almost dared not move for fear they messed up their perfect hairstyles and expensive dresses and regal poise.

I straightened and saw that there was a tiny pink headphone set hanging around her neck, the cord leading to the MP3 player tucked into the pocket of her skirt. Nelle had her gaze pinned on Alison Troelsen once more. "You do know that she sucks her thumb."

Wait. What?

I blinked. "Really?"

Still looking at Alison, Nelle nodded like she was authoritarian on the subject of the other girl. "She's so old," she said as if she'd forgotten she was a little kid herself. "And she still sucks her thumb like a big baby and sleeps with teddy bears and blankies."

I mean it wasn't the end of the world. But it did strike me as a bit odd. Alison was my age. I'd ditched sleeping with my favorite Panda bear a long time ago.

I frowned. "How do you know this?"

"Lise, of course," Nelle spat out, whipping her head back to me with a duh face plastered on her expression and throwing an astounded arm wide. "She knows everything."

Nelle continued to stare daggers silently at me and it riled my irritation. Especially after going after the Troelsen girl. "You do know that staring too long at someone is rude," I drawled. My mom often reminded me of that, along with all the other polite rules of society.

I felt her anger like a living thing.

The air heated around me, hotter than the summer sun rays beating down.

Nelle's nostrils flared. Her gray eyes slit and her mouth puckered. Beneath my boots, I felt a faint trembling as if the earth was awakening from slumber. Her anger shivered through the trees and rustled branches. Birds took flight from the creaking, swaying branches, and snapped across the sky, their shadows falling over us.

Shit, shit, shit...

Nelle didn't know it, but I knew her secret.

I glanced furtively about, worried if anyone had noticed her temper about to explode into an earthquake. So far, no one seemed to notice. However, she needed to calm the fuck down. Panicking, I raked a hand through my hair, trying to think quickly on my feet. I blurted, "I saw what you did to Rocco. You've got a pretty good aim."

Nelle's temper abated with my praise and her eyes lit up with pride. The worry slithering down my spine faded away as the flaming hot air cooled and the trembling of earth eased.

Flashing a dark grin full of tiny baby teeth and a missing front-tooth gap, Nelle replied boldly in her pipsqueak voice, "That motherfucker's a dumb cunt!"

My eyebrows snapped to my hairline and my mouth dropped open. She was seven years old. A kid. How did she even know those kinds of words? Hells, even I wouldn't have dared utter that at home. My mom would have me clipped my ears and had me on dishes duty for the next ten years of my life.

Nelle gave me smug a look as if to say what was anyone going to do about it?

"How do you even get away with saying those words?" I breathed.

"Who says, I do?" she replied airily

"My mom would make me eat soap."

"Same. Eating soap is so yucky," she agreed. She shrugged a small shoulder. "But sometimes it's fucking worth it, right?"

I huffed a laugh, darting a look about to see if anyone was about and had overheard her swearing. "Sometimes," I whispered back.

The dark scowl smoothed away from her features as her gaze became softer and more inquisitive. She cocked her head and sunlight kissed the pale crown of her hair, the white ribbon wavering with the movement. "Is it your birthday today?"

"Yeah," I croaked, feeling shitty once more. I scuffed the grass with the tip of my shoe.

Nelle popped a hand on her hip haughtily. "My birthday is in six weeks' time. I'm going to be eight."

"I'm thirteen today." A teenager. It seemed cool and important to finally be a teenager like my older brother Kenton.

Nelle squinted up at me. "How come you're not celebrating your birthday with a party?"

"They all forgot." I was still smarting that everyone had forgotten about my birthday.

I'd been so excited last night that I found it hard to get to sleep. And when I eventually did, awaking this morning and bouncing out of bed to rush down the living quarters to the breakfast room, only for my heart to be deflated by the fact that not a single one of my family wished me a 'Happy Birthday.'

The Keep was bustling with activity with the staff helping us get ready for this morning's brunch at the Battaglis. We weren't going to last until brunch so we'd had an early breakfast. I'd thought for sure everyone was going to sing 'Happy Birthday!' and give me loads of hugs and presents. But my brothers were too busy arguing with one another while my baby sister Ferne was having a meltdown at having eggs for breakfast when she wanted porridge. So that had to be made for her, and then my mother had to change Ferne's dress since most of the porridge ended up on her. And while all this was going on, my father was on the phone with Yoran Novak and running through what was happening in the coming weeks.

It had been a shock to realize they'd actually all forgotten.

I mean, I kind of got it, it had been busy, but this was my fucking birthday!

Nelle said nothing further, only squinted at me thoughtfully. After a long stretch of silence, she grunted, "Huh." Then she brushed past me, knocking into my arm with her shoulder, and left without even a backward glance or even a 'Well, goodbye then.'

It gave me a chance to give her something. Tucking my hand into the pocket of my pants, I fished out what I'd been earlier whittling, and slipped it into her pocket.

What the hells. It reminded me of her so she may as well have it.

Frowning at her tiny retreating back and her general spoiled weirdness, I pushed into a leggy stride, trudging across the lawn, and set off to find my parents. I had a good idea where they'd be.