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Rowan’s eyes track the tear on my face. Something akin to shock crosses his features. “Little monster–”

I shove at him with my body, twisting to protect him from the blade still in my hand, until I rush out into the vastness of the Wraithlands, running until the pain inside of me stops.

He’s right. He’s always been right. I’m a monster.

The storm raging inside of me only fuels the urge to run. I don’t typically give in to flight mode so easily, but there’s something about Rowan that draws out a side of me I thought died long ago.

There’s feelings, desires, wants, and a conflicting emotion that makes me want to scream into the sky until I go back to the unfeeling Keres Anderson I’ve grown into over the years.

How am I supposed to keep living like this?

I snarl, slashing my sword through the air though there’s no one in front of me to fight. My mind is a mess, just like my body.

Slowly, I come to a stop, breathing hard as I stare at the boots on my feet. I should be utilizing all this rage to go after Lady Cirilla. The entire goal of coming out here was to show Rowan how serious I am about being sent to the Cliff of Embers.

So why did I run the opposite direction of everyone?

I don’t a clue.

Stabbing the end of my blade into the dirt, I settle my hands on my hips and take a look around the area. Few cabins are located near me. There’s only one pyre burning at the end of the little makeshift cul-de-sac giving enough light to notice the buildings are dark.

The air still feels heavy with heat, but not to the extent it was an hour ago. It seems Rowan was able to curb the edge the heat brought after all.

“Are you lost?” a male asks.

I flex my hand, trying to resist grabbing the handle of my sword to use to warn him off. Not bothering to turn around and address the stranger, I simply say in a voice that brooks no argument, “No.”

“She definitely seems lost,” another male says.

Neither of them come across as though they’re trying to taunt me into fighting. Still, I gently rest my hand on the handle of my sword and turn to eye them warily.

They look like siblings. Their brown hair cut in similar styles and slicked back on their head. They’re both broad, though not as broad as a certain someone I know.

Something moves on my skin, and I glance down, noting the gap left open on my shirt where I can see the white serpent-like tattoo crawl its way up my shoulder until it rests along my face, much like Rowan’s does.

The man on the left raises his eyebrows in surprise, clearly noticing the magical element on my skin. “Well, Kennedy, she doesn’t seem to need rescuing after all.”

The other one, Kennedy, presses his lips together as he surveys me. “You came barreling through here like you were outpacing a fight. You okay?” He glances at his possible brother. “Maybe you should grab Ma, Ethan.”

Ethan shrugs and turns sharply, shoving open the door to one of the houses and flickering the lights on.

“Do you need me to get Lord Rowan for you?” Kennedy asks.

My hand tightens on the sword instinctively. “No.”

He raises a dubious brow this time. “Are you sure? Because something tells me he’ll want to know about you being out here unprotected.”

“Trust me,” I scoff as I lift the sword free from the dirt, “the last thing Rowan would tell you is that I’m unprotected.”

Quite the contrary. He would advise to steer clear of me, especially when my mood is this foul.

Before I can ask how these two know Rowan, his brother comes back out of the house. “Ma says she’ll be a minute,” Ethan says, eyeing the sword in my hand. “Is she trying to fight us?”

I haven’t quite decided if they’re worth it yet, but the truth is I don’t want to fight. I want peace. And for this brief moment, I wish I was someone else entirely who didn’t have to contemplate whether killing these people would be enough to sway Rowan’s mind.

“You can come inside, but the sword stays by the door,” a female calls.

Turning my head, I spy an older woman in the doorway to the house Ethan went into. She’s in a long nightgown and her dark hair is pulled into a messy knot on the top of her head.