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I thought he’d hoped it would awaken some part of me, but I had only pitied his quest for vengeance.

The roof was snowy and slippery, and the air was so cold, it stole my breath as I moved to the edge and looked down on Revekka. As before, fires burned across the land, but they were no longer isolated pyres; they surrounded each village, large circles of fire that would hopefully keep monsters at bay, though they had done little to keep the aufhockers from Cel Ceredi.

But maybe I could…if I could force myself to change.

I closed my eyes and spread my arms wide, focusing on the part of me that had not felt the same since the night I changed. It was a jumble of thorns, a chaotic mix of feelings I had not been able to confront but needed to untangle, and I knew, at the center of it all, was anger.

Anger that I had not had control.

It had started from the moment I drew my first breath and my mother died and only continued when Adrian walked into my life. From the beginning, I’d had no command over my body, which responded to him like it knew him, but once I came to love him, I’d only ever assumed I’d be the same kind of monster as him.

I was angry because I had once been able to see the future, and now I could barely navigate the present without coming away bloody and broken and bruised.

I felt my resistance give a little, and as I began to relax, an arm came around my waist. I stumbled as my back settled against Adrian’s chest. His other arm crossed over my body, and he held me tight, his face pressed into the hollow of my neck.

It was an apology and I reveled in it.

We stayed like that for a while, silent and still. I was the first to move, turning in Adrian’s arms to face him.

“I have something to show you,” I said.

“I hope it is a good surprise,” he said, smiling.

“I never promised a surprise,” I said. “Or that it would be good.”

“Quite the pessimist, aren’t we?”

I smiled and led him inside, though I could not help feeling slightly nervous at the idea of showing him the library full of spell books. I knew Adrian was not opposed to magic, but that was before Ana and I had made a plan to contain the crimson mist.

“You are anxious,” he said as we returned through the once-mirrored hall.

“Are you reading my mind?” I asked.

“Should I?” he asked.

“I don’t like this room,” I said, which was true, though it was not currently the source of my unease. Adrian said nothing, only held my hand tighter.

He did not question me when I led him to the former sanctuary, when I reached for a torch on the wall, or as I climbed onto the altar and squeezed into the narrow passage where the door to the library was hidden.

I did not prepare him as I led him into the darkness. I felt dizzy as we made our way down the floating stairs.

Adrian placed a hand on my shoulder, another on my waist.

“Wait just a moment,” he said, his breath tickling my ear, and then he chuckled. “Breathe, Sparrow.”

I exhaled slowly and deliberately, and when I took another breath, I inhaled Adrian’s scent. He remained close, his presence a tangible thing that made me feel safe as we continued down the stairs to the small library.

I faced him but found his expression placid, not at all the surprise I’d imagined.

“I wondered when you would find this place,” he said.

I blinked, shocked. “You knew this existed?”

He smiled faintly. “I did.”

“Why did you not tell me?” I seethed.

“Because you were not ready,” he said.