The gloaming draped itself over the Hemmlok Forest like a forlorn lover. Barely any sunlight could pierce through the thick canopy above and motes drifted in the thin shafts of pale and insipid light. With every quiet inhale I breathed in the pungent scent of decaying wood and leaves, damp moss, and moist earth.

Valarie and I were perched high up in the uppermost reaches of a walnut tree. A haunting melody whispered around us as a cold breeze ruffled through golden leaves turning red. Valarie panned her loaded crossbow across the small clearing below. Her eyes were narrowed and her body tense and ready. Her forefinger twitched, itching to curl around the crossbow's trigger. The weapon was loaded with a cursed bolt that would render the prey paralyzed before a plague-like curse would boil its flesh to a pulp. My own fingers tightened around the blades of slender throwing knives. Both of us were on edge, our keen senses honed on the ground below.

A creaking sound—not branches bending with the wind, but something else. Close, very close, right behind the deeply furrowed tree trunk where we couldn't see.

But we heard the soft, hungry whine.

Saw the breaths that clouded cool air in streaming puffs.

Quietly, a lesser creature stalked out into view, paused, a glance over its feathered shoulder—tense, listening, waiting.

A Tjolk, long-limbed with a cloak fashioned from sparrow feathers, lifted a leathery arm, and a faint shimmer of magic blurred the background around its lanky body. Its thumb unconsciously rubbed across the tips of three knobbled fingers as it cocked a large furled ear and sniffed the air. It had picked up our scent half an hour ago and had begun to hunt us.

Tjolks were solitary creatures and ate rocks or vegetation if they had to, but they preferred the delicacies of flesh, whether it be animal or human. Saliva gathered at the corners of its fat rubbery lips as if its mouth was watering in anticipation of consuming my sister and me—alive. I slowly, carefully began to pull my arm back, ready to hurl a knife as its gaunt leathery head twisted around. Its round eyes, pupils strangely star-shaped, raked the walnut tree that we'd climbed, its gaze going up, up, up—

"Shit," I heard my sister say, more breath than voice. Her forefinger wrapped around the metal trigger as she aimed, ready to unleash a bolt.

An unearthly howl shattered the silence.

The howl, loud and nearby, hollowed out my ears.

Not the lesser creature, but something else—a wolf.

The Tjolk jerked around and hissed with fury. It erupted into panicked motion and darted across the small clearing.

Five wraith-wolves exploded out of the undergrowth, their thin black lips pulled back from vicious fangs. The alpha that headed the pack was larger than the four that flanked it. Their misty fur wavered like tendrils of smoke as they bounded across the small clearing, enormous paws ripping up the forest floor.

While I kept my gaze trained on the wraith-wolves, Valarie's swift glance slid over my profile and stirred up the ever-present wretchedness. Iron bands of guilt compressed my chest and my throat thickened painfully. The last time my family had seen Gratian was before he'd left our home for the Szarvas estate to hunt a wraith-wolf.

Snapping and barking and growling reverberated in the air. In short bursts, the wraith-wolves faded in and out of the wraith-void to physically pass through the trees in their way as they hunted the tjolk. As fast as they appeared, they disappeared into the shadows and murky-green shades of the forest.

Valarie and I waited, still and quiet, listening to the hunt as it moved swiftly away.

A minute later—

Furious barking and shrill shrieks—

A spine-chilling ripping sound and an agony-laced scream—

Silence.

In the distance came the sound of tearing limbs and sharp, chomping teeth and possessive snarls.

The setting sun slipped below the horizon and the forest plunged into darkness. Nocturnal life crept and crawled and flitted out of their burrows and roosts and between fissures of gnarled bark. Our night vision kicked in and the forest came to life with a different type of light. Clouds of fireflies made the world beneath the canopy of trees seem like a moving galaxy of stars.

I went to climb down the wizened tree when Valarie stopped me by squeezing my upper arm. "T-Talk to me," she urged softly. I knew she'd have picked up what I'd been feeling through our twin-link. "No m-more hiding from me, Varen, you need to tell me what's g-going on. What happened between you and Irma?"

Earlier, in a cascade of sleek black vehicles, Byron had arrived to deliver my sister to the Szarvas estate. The Szarvases had bathed in the glory of receiving the heir to the Great House. Soon after, Byron left Valarie, to return to the Deniauds' and continue assisting with the aftermath of Jurgana.

I'd been left reeling after Kiran's announcement that my father had already begun the Betrothal negotiations with the Szarvases. My father didn't need my opinion or permission to go ahead with an arranged marriage. He was Head of our House and, as his son and heir, I was subject to his will when he decided who I should wed. While the Szarvases gathered around Irma and me for a spontaneous and informal celebration to congratulate our union, I could barely hold my thoughts together, let alone speak. I was a sacrifice to advance our House. And I knew I would be—fucking knew it—yet had vainly thought that I'd get myself out of it.

This time it was Valarie who did the talking for me.

Sensing my unease, Valarie extricated us as soon as she could from Irma and her family—in my mind not fucking soon enough—declaring we needed to leave and begin our task for Sirro. The Szarvases naturally were curious, but they could go fuck themselves. We weren't going to divulge what we were doing to them.

We'd armed ourselves with weapons, and I'd shrugged on a backpack containing everything I'd asked Sander to bring to us, and headed into the forest. Anger chased my shock at my father's betrayal and being forever tied to Irma. Still unable to even talk to my twin, I burned the flames of fury with physical activity.

I had deftly avoided the trails that Irma frequently ran along, and the old stone gazebo where I'd caught her and Gratian six months ago, and led Valarie deeper and deeper into the wild and untamed forest.

Sirro's directions to finding this derelict cottage were, quite frankly, fucking shitty. Head north, the Horned God had advised me. Well, how fucking far north? And just where exactly north of the kastély?

My sister and I had split up to widen our search until finally, Valarie found the derelict cottage just as twilight drew the forest into a darker gloom and prowling beasts arrived, like the Tjolk, and we'd climbed a twisted walnut tree to escape its notice.

As I shimmied down the tree trunk I gritted out, "I don't want to talk about it."

I jumped the last part, landing as light and silent as a cat in the wild rushes growing around the tree's jutting roots. I moved aside for Valarie, and she gracefully landed beside me. Straightening, she glared. "No. Of c-course you don't. Because you n-never do." She shoved my shoulder with her free hand, and demanded, "What did she do to you?"

My confession was there on the tip of my tongue. My family didn't know the full truth of that night. What they did know was accurate, just missing a few facts because Irma Szarvas had skewered what had occurred.

That night, I'd come back early from Colombia after sorting out the mess with the cartels for the Horned Gods. I'd headed straight to the Szarvases' to see Irma as things hadn't been good between us for a while and I wanted to sort it out. When I arrived at the Szarvas estate, Marton had informed me that Gratian had turned up earlier and headed out to hunt a wraith-wolf. I'd instantly cursed, and fallen into worry. Gratian could be reckless and the Hemmlok Forest was dangerous on a good day. That night it had been a Blood Moon, so I had armed myself with weapons and struck out to find him. I picked up my brother's scent and followed it to an old gazebo that was overgrown with ivy, and Irma was there, fucking Gratian.

Their betrayal had hurt more than a blade plunging through my heart.

I had to get out of there and I wasn't thinking and so full of heartache, that I'd headed straight into the savage forest, deeper and deeper, running faster and faster, not caring where I was going, not knowing that my brother was pursuing me until he'd caught up.

Blinded by agony and rage, we'd fought over Irma. That was how Gratian died—we hadn't realized we'd in turn been hunted by something ancient and cruel and hungry.

It had risen out of the shadows. A vicious mouth yawned wide above Gratian's head. Thick strands of spittle had dripped from fangs that shone dully in blood moonlight to splatter like raindrops upon my brother's sweaty hair. He'd looked up just as the beast's mouth descended swift and lethal. Fangs snapped and severed flesh and cartilage and bones.

My brother's blood had sprayed across my face. The deafening thump of his body collapsing on the forest floor exploded in my ears. I'd whirled around and ran. The beast had pursued me for a bit and then dropped away before I'd burst from the forest, unable to speak, barely able to think.

I was in shock and so was Irma who'd chased after us. She hadn't gotten very far. Gratian and I were built for speed and warfare. However, she'd felt the earth tremble as an unearthly roar had rumbled through the ancient forest, turned around, and ran away herself.

It had been an out-of-body experience, surrounded by her family. Things had happened around me, voices speaking, the familiar faces of Kiran, Marton, and Hira, Irma's sisters, concerned and worried, asking—Whose blood is on your face? What happened to Gratian? And I'd incoherently mumbled what I'd seen and encountered out there.

Irma had filled in her family with her unblemished version, leaving her and Gratian out entirely, because she wanted an untarnished reputation and she also wanted me back.

By the time I'd become lucid, Irma's family, and mine too, had come to believe that I'd gone out there to find Gratian and drag him back from his dangerous hunt for a wraith-wolf, and instead, he'd died in a hunting accident. Which was just a polite way of saying some fucking otherworldly beast had killed him.

Eaten him—spiraled through my mind.

It was far too late to confess the truth. Most of it was the truth, just parts of the story were missing—Irma and Gratian's deceit and betrayal. Along with my devastation and rage. And my failure to protect my brother.

I blinked, unspooling from the past and coming to.

My sister stood in front of me, pity shimmered in her eyes as she patiently waited for me to unload the guilt that had infused my bones with a heaviness that had become harder and harder to bear.

As I stared back at her, my mouth forming the words to ease my torment, I found I couldn't confess it, not even to my own twin. I blew out a weary breath, raked my slightly trembling fingers through my hair, and turned away. My shoulders slumped. "Just leave it alone, Val. Okay?"

I stalked off, pushing my way through the dense undergrowth and half-bending over to avoid low-hanging branches. I took a defensive-offensive tactic, shifting Valarie's attention from me, back to her. I shoved aside the guilt and heartache, burying it deep down. None of that was going to help me right now.

A moment later, I managed to rally myself to be able to give her a half-mischievous glance as she walked beside me and whispered hoarsely, "Byron, huh." She rolled her eyes, but I saw the spike of pink spreading across her cheeks. I nudged her with my elbow—she jabbed hers back at me—and said, "You like him."

There was a playful bounce in her step as she shrugged a shoulder, nonchalantly. "He s-seems okay."

"You kissed him with your tongue and everything."

Her mouth fell open. "Oh my g-gods, Varen," she whisper-hissed. A moment later her expression became somber. "I don't th-think I c-could be part of the Wychthorns' world. How can I after what L-L-Laurena attempted to do?" She shook her head, still astounded by it all. "She really was g-going to stab me with those scissors."

Laurena would get away with it too, and cold claws raked down the rippled knots of my spine as I wondered if this was the end of it with Laurena or were there was going to be further retribution enacted against my sister.

But Valarie, she and Byron might actually have a chance at happiness. It was still early days, but I'd never heard anything bad about Byron. He was either discreet with his entanglement with lovers, or he actually wasn't fucking around with anyone. I had to admit I was warming to him. He had protected my sister against Jurgana's bedmates and he was obviously interested in her, a deeper interest rather than something shallow and meaningless.

"He likes you...really likes you."

She replied cheekily, "Of c-course, what's not to l-like?" Her soft, quiet laugh spiraled through the air, delighted and infectious, and had me grinning despite my own dulled despair.

"What are you going to do?"

"I think," she said, her mouth pursed with thought as she moved slightly ahead, her boots crunching softly on pine needles. "I want to see him and g-get to know him b-better. But on my terms, not Dad's."

I splayed a hand across my chest in mock shock. "Do you mean, date?"

When my sister left the estate it was never alone. She was either with me or one of our family members. And no one had the balls to court her, due to me scaring them off.

"Just see where it g-goes without any pressure."

Dad had fucked me over. He'd do the same to her. However, thankfully for Valarie, it wasn't like the Szarvas situation where we were on the same level as Lower Houses and knew a union specifically between our two families would attract an advance. Byron's family ruled over us all as Great House. They chose who to unify with. Still, Byron could force a marriage with my sister if he wanted, even if she was unwilling.

"Don't sc-scare him off."

"Can't promise anything."

"Varen."

I held up my hands in mock surrender. "Okay, I promise."

As we slipped through a narrow gap between young, slender trees, she shot a shrewd look my way. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

She tipped her chin up and her violet eyes narrowed with interest. "There's something g-going on with you. A change I felt earlier yesterday. You're m-more light-spirited. And there was an ease in your..." her eyes flared wide and she bit her bottom lip as if she wished she could take back her words.

In my guilt—that's what she could feel through the twin-link.

"D-Do you know her?" she asked.

"Who?"

Valarie slung the crossbow over her shoulder as she stepped around a large branch half-buried in the decaying forest floor, with fungi sprouting along its moldering side. "That servant girl, Tabitha, who saved my life."

I shook my head, hoping she wouldn't pick up on my deceit.

"I met her yesterday. She was kind to me and h-helped me with L-L-Laurena, as well as Byron." She gave me a shrewd look. "It seemed l-like you knew one another, Varen, when I found you both in Yveta's bathroom. And you were l-looking out for s-someone while we worked through the night. You also st-stalled leaving the Deniauds'."

"She's a servant, someone that saved your life, and I wanted to make sure she was alright." Something weird and conflicting warmed my chest while also driving it into a deep bone-chilling frost when I thought about what Tabitha had done, throwing herself in front of my sister, and what could have happened to her if she didn't have unnatural healing.

My sister hummed, the sound of the note revealing she wasn't convinced. But she also wasn't going to push it with me either. She pulled back an evergreen branch with a thick coating of small serrated leaves. "Here it is," she whispered, her gaze moving from mine to straight ahead.

The way the forest had enfolded the small cottage made it easy to miss in the vast wilderness. The crumbling abode had to be several hundred years old, and being here in its disquieting presence gave me an uneasy feeling, but the Hemmlok Forest could do that.

Who had once lived here and why, was a mystery.