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“I’ve already made my decision,” he called out to Nicolas, who was halfway across the room. The Good Commander turned back. “We’ll reinstate the curfew, and the raids. And we’ll triple the Blood Guard presence on the streets.”

Now was not the time for mercy.

AFTER BRINGING HIS NEWorders to Blood Guard headquarters, Gideon set out for Old Town. It was early evening when he arrived home and found a telegram slipped under his door. Thinking it was from Rune, he picked it up and tore it open.

But it was from Thornwood Hall.

GIDEON SHARPE

113 PRUDENCE ST, OLD TOWN

BROTHER: I LEAVE FOR CAELIS AT THE END OF THE WEEK TO RESUME MY STUDIES. I’M SELLINGMY ESTATE AND WILL BE HOSTING A SMALL GOODBYE PARTY TONIGHT. NOTHING FANCY. JUST CARDS AMONG A FEW FRIENDS. I WOULD DEARLY LOVE FOR YOU TO JOIN US.

ALEX

It had been two years since Gideon had set foot in Thornwood Hall, but his nightmares frequently brought him back. He hated that house and the memories it held. The thought of Alex selling it was a relief.

But Caelis was across the Barrow Strait. Gideon had little reason to travel to the mainland, and he couldn’t afford to take time off—especially with Cressida on the prowl. When would he ever see his brother?

Gideon rubbed his jaw, remembering the punch Alex had thrown in the boxing ring.

If Alex was leaving, Gideon owed it to him to face his demons and go to this party. To patch things up between them as much as he could. Especially if they might never see each other again.

Most important of all: Alex needed to know that Cressida was alive. That hehadn’tkilled her. He would have to watch his back going forward.

Gideon grabbed his coat.

Thornwood Hall was only a house. And he was sick of cowering.

FORTY-THREEGIDEON

GIDEON STOOD IN THErain, staring at the arched doors flanked by two roaring lions made of stone. The rain soaked his hair and dampened his clothes, making him colder by the second. But a deeper cold lived in his bones.

He couldn’t make his legs move. Couldn’t order his body to carry him into the house.

I was wrong.

I can’t do this.

He was about to turn around and leave, already planning the apologetic telegram he would send Alex tomorrow, when Rune’s words seeped in through the chill. Like the first spring day after a harsh winter.

You are not the things that happened to you, Gideon.

Her voice summoned something from beneath the nightmares. Something stronger than the pull of the past. It was a kick of adrenaline, a shot of courage.

Gideon drew in a deep breath and walked into the damned house.

The same sapphire carpets lined the floor. The same floral wallpaper adorned the walls. The air still smelled faintly of Cress’s magic, too. Like blood and roses. The scent was stale and cloying.

As Alex’s manservant escorted him through the halls of Thornwood, Gideon felt like he was walking backward in time. His muscles tensed as scenes from the past rose like mist before his eyes. But all he had to do was think of Rune, and the awful things would fade.

When they arrived at the parlor, Gideon made his way to the round table near the fire, where half a dozen young men sat playing cards, coins piled in the middle. He saw Noah Creed and Bart Wentholt and several other familiar faces.

His brother’s back was to him.

“Gideon Sharpe!” Bart’s red hair shone in the firelight as he motioned Gideon over to an empty chair. “What exceptional timing. Alex, deal him in.”

Gideon sat and he shrugged off his coat. Across the table, Alex smiled brightly as he shuffled and counted out cards, apparently happy to see him. Leaning back in his chair, Gideon couldn’t help but notice all the ways he admired his little brother.