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“If an unlocking spell makes you faint,thisspell will put you in a coma.” Turning the book so she could see it better, Verity’s gaze skimmed the description. “You need someone else’s blood—and a lot of it—to cast this one.”

The words reminded Rune of her conversation with Gideon in the woods, and the things he’d said about the Sister Queens. If anyone knew the truth, it would be Verity. Her sisters were friends with the Rosebloods, and they had often cast spells together.

“Verity? Do you think the Roseblood sisters used Arcana spells?”

Verity glanced up from the spell book’s pages. “Why do you ask?”

“Gideon told me something strange the other night.” A warm burn moved across Rune’s cheeks as she thought of him on the beach. Of his clothes hitting the sand and the sea sluicing over his chest.

Of his mouth on hers.

She forged ahead. “He accused Cressida and her sisters of killing people and using the blood to cast spells. He said they were corrupted by bad magic.”

“And you believe him?”

Rune thought of the brand on Gideon’s chest: the raised, red skin in the shape of a rose and crescent. That scar alone seemed proof that Cressida, at least, was more than capable of extreme cruelty. “I don’t know what to believe. It would explain why they were so powerful.”

Verity’s eyes grew clouded. “This was how my stepfather turned my mother against my sisters.”

Rune drew back, startled. “What?”

“My sisters used each other’s blood for their Majora spells. With permission, of course. But my stepfather walked in on them one day, in the middle of a casting. After, he declared their magic an abomination and convinced my mother the only way for my sisters to cleanse themselves and bepureagain was to beat the wickedness out of them.”

Rune stared in horror at Verity, who’d never told her any of this.

Seeing the way her friend trembled, Rune reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “That’s awful.”

Verity’s grip tightened on Rune, her knuckles turning bone white. “He would lock them up for days. Beat their bare backs with belts. Force them to kneel for hours on broken glass.” As if reliving the scenes, Verity dug her fingernails into Rune’s skin.

“The worst of it was, my mother let him. She’d lost our baby sister in childbirth years before, and never recovered from her grief. My stepfather used her fragile state against her, convincing her that my sisters were wicked to their cores. So when she heard their screams, she did nothing. She sided withhimover her own daughters.”

And then she handed those daughters over to the Blood Guard,thought Rune.

No wonder Verity hated her parents. This was why she woreherself down to keep her scholarship—so she’d never have to go home or be at their mercy.

But …

Ouch.

Rune glanced down to see her friend’s fingernails about to break her skin. “Verity, you’re hurting me.”

For a moment, it seemed like Verity wouldn’t stop.Couldn’tstop. But she shook her head and let go. “S-sorry.”

Rune pulled her hand toward her chest, studying the little half-moon marks in her skin. “It’s all right. You’re upset.”

“My sisters weren’t corrupt,” said Verity, her eyes pleading with Rune to believe her. “They weren’t abominations. Witches have been using each other’s blood to amplify their spells for centuries. There’s nothing wrong with what they did.”

Verity nodded to the book on Rune’s desk, lying open toEarth Sunderer.

“That spell, for example. No witch can cast something this powerful using solely her own blood. She’d seriously hurt herself.”

Your sisters weren’t using each other’s blood against their will, though,Rune wanted to point out. Which was the accusation Gideon had made against the queens.

But Verity was distressed by the memory. And Rune couldn’t blame her. So she let it go.

“Come on,” said Rune, grabbing the blood vial she’d come in here to get, then eyeing the dress hanging over Verity’s arm—one of last season’s fashions. “Let’s find you something better to wear.”

THIRTY-SIXGIDEON