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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

NEAH

T o Neah’s utmost irritation, she couldn’t say that she was having a better time at the ball for Wren’s absence. Not that his presence had pleased her much, either.

He’d left not long after they’d argued and, for some reason, that had only incensed her further. It was probably contrary, she knew, but that he hadn’t even tried to go after her, had instead walked away, rankled.

Zennon, on the other hand, seemed to be having a great time—aside from the fact that she’d been rip-roaringly drunk for the past hour with no sign of slowing down.

“She’s beautiful, right? And talented. I mean…” Zen gestured to her dress with an exaggerated flourish that made Neah snort. “And her name! So interesting. Rooowmi. Rowmeee.”

“Yes?”

Zennon sat upright, sloshing half her drink with the motion as she looked at the seamstress with wide eyes, clearly not having seen her approach. “Oh. I, well—My dress! It’s lovely. Thank you.”

Romi smiled and flicked her long red hair over one shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

The smile on Zennon’s face stayed pasted on until Romi left and then it widened, tinged with hysteria. “I saved that, right?”

Neah shrugged. “Probably. Why don’t you ask her to dance?”

Zen tilted her head, accidentally timing the motion to the orchestral music, and then dismissed Neah’s suggestion. “No, I couldn’t. I’m a perfectly fine dancer while sober. But now…”

True. Zennon was liable to have two left feet at this point. “Breakfast then, tomorrow.”

She was relatively sure that whoever had attempted the poisoning before wouldn't try again, not only because they’d been unsuccessful the first time but also because the kind of magic they’d wielded had likely exhausted them.

Sonnet felt it was unlikely they would be able to replicate it so soon after the first attempt.

But still, Neah felt better eating in the privacy of their chambers, where she could inspect the food and drink thoroughly before consuming anything.

Sonnet had wandered off with Gabe some time ago, with a sour-faced Skye trailing behind them like a disgruntled chaperone.

It made Neah antsy to have her small group split up so widely, and even more on edge when she pondered when Wren’s friends had begun to feel like hers too.

Maybe it was the shifter in her, but she’d much rather have kept Zen and Sonnet close where she could watch for threats and reassure herself with their scents.

The thought was so ridiculous that Neah rolled her eyes as Zennon continued to follow Romi’s movements around the room with her eyes.

“I think I’ll be too hungover tomorrow for breakfast,” she said eventually and Neah hummed in acknowledgement.

She’d barely touched the drinks, preferring to remain alert given the display they’d put on with their late entrance.

And yet, part of her preened at the reminder, at the power she’d felt walking in with Sonnet and Zennon, daring anyone there to lay a finger on them.

She’d hoped to lay the rumours of Zennon and Wren to rest that night, but it was hard to do without him present.

Still, the message they’d given was clear—they’d tried to kill them, and they had failed .

Zennon yawned and stretched, accepting Neah’s hand when she offered it and pulled her sister to standing. Catching her when she swayed, Neah wrapped an arm around Zen’s waist and they began the slow shuffle back to their chamber.

As fun as it had been, getting dressed up and having fun with Zen and Sonnet, Neah couldn’t deny her exhaustion.

It felt like she’d been on edge ever since Zennon had taken ill, waiting for the next attack.

As a result, she’d tossed and turned more than usual and now her eyes felt heavy.

The only peaceful sleep she’d had was in Wren’s arms and it pissed her off.

She should be able to sleep just fine without him, damn it.

“Did you have a nice time?” Zennon slurred, resting her head against Neah’s shoulder as they finally left the ballroom and entered the hall just outside where guests lingered.

Some were as drunk as Zennon and looked to be heading out for the night, others appeared to have gone in search of privacy and given up, kissing in the halls.

Neah rolled her eyes. Some things didn’t change, even at court.

A clatter to their left drew Neah’s attention, her exhaustion making her slower to react than she might otherwise have been as she took in the seven guards running toward them. She even recognised one of them, Dean Grandy, as the guard she’d met when she’d first arrived at court.

That was why it took so long for her to recognise them as the enemy.

A sword swung, the sound of the metal kicking in Neah’s instincts even as her brain tried to understand what was happening. She threw an arm out and across Zennon’s chest, pressing her back into a dip that ensured the sword passed safely overhead.

Her dress didn’t end up with pockets, much to her sadness, so Neah settled for the next best way to secure a weapon in the moment—kicking one out of the hand of an approaching unfamiliar guard and catching it in midair.

By then, the onlookers had realised what was happening and began to scream, calling for help, and Neah wanted to laugh because the guards were the help.

Except, they were attacking them unprovoked.

She sniffed gently but found no traces of magic on the air, so it didn’t appear that they were being controlled, which just left…

“Traitors,” she growled, eyes on Dean who raised his chin as if in challenge.

Whoever was behind this had learned from their mistakes.

Seven guards to do their dirty work. Four she could have taken, five at a push, but seven…

They were armed and closing in and maybe she could have fought them off if she’d been alone, but the chances of them getting to Zennon, of hurting her, were too great. But what other choice did she have?

One man had stepped forward, as if to offer his assistance, and Neah would have been grateful if he hadn’t been run through by a sword almost instantly.

“What do we do?” Zennon rasped, voice hoarse and pupils blown wide.

“You remember the most important lesson I taught you?” Neah asked, keeping an eye on the encroaching guards as Zennon nodded. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Neah didn’t wait for a response, or for the guards to surround them completely. Instead, she lunged forward, striking out with her borrowed sword and sweeping her leg out and under the assailant to her right. “Go!”

Zennon ran and Neah bought her time, tackling the first guard who made to chase her sister and disemboweling the one that followed.

A sword clanged against her own as she parried and knocked a guard to their back with a kick to the chest, growling when he almost immediately got back to his feet.

For half a second, she thought maybe they could do this.

She was wrong.

Zennon cried out and Neah wrenched her sword free from the shoulder of the guard in front of her before spinning, eyes flying wide as she took in the scene in front of her. Zen had gotten further than Neah had hoped, but it wasn’t far enough.

Her dress was an inky pool against the stone floor, her hair spilling out around her in a fan that would have seemed graceful if it wasn’t also deadly. One guard was down, presumably the one who’d brought her to the floor, but the other…

Neah shook her head, her sword clanging to the floor as she dropped it and ran, even as she knew she wouldn’t make it in time.

The guard’s sword was already descending, Zennon’s eyes were fluttering closed, and Neah’s scream sounded more like a roar as she pushed herself to run faster, to leap further than she ever had before.

Because if she didn’t, Zennon would be dead.

And Zennon couldn’t be dead. Neah would not allow it.

Her body arced through the air, a warm tingle running across her skin as she closed the distance.

Need overwhelmed her. Thoughts a confusing jumble of protect protect protect and kill kill kill and then her teeth were in the guard’s throat, his body knocked to one side as she collided with him and shook him like a rag doll in her mouth.

Gasps and shouts were too loud for her sensitive ears and her muscles locked, immediately preparing for another threat, but none of the people who’d finally run out of the ballroom approached.

Green marked the floor and she sniffed at it, satisfied that the puddle didn’t belong to her or hers, and when the guard Zennon had knocked down regained consciousness, his eyes widened as he took Neah in.

It was the guard she’d recognised, Dean, and when his muscles twitched, preparing to move, she didn’t hesitate.

Two paws hit his chest, knocking him down as her claws shredded the front of his uniform. If not for the small, human hand that touched her flank, Neah would have killed him.

As it was, she turned and cocked her head, sniffing deeply at the woman beside her who smelled like kin.

“Don’t kill him. We might need him. For information.”

The words felt like being underwater, muffled and warped, but she understood them and backed away from the fallen guard, the stench of his urine making her swat at her nose.

A crowd had gathered around them and Neah couldn’t parse who was friend or foe, a low growl beginning in the back of her throat and slowly growing louder as they continued to whisper and murmur amongst themselves.

Brightness made her eyes narrow, the glow belonging to a woman who approached slowly, her hands up as if to signal she meant no harm.

Neah snapped at her, not liking the way her magic stung the air around them like tiny wasps.

The girl who was kin was speaking to the witch, the words too fast for Neah to follow, but then her attention was diverted by the arrival of a man.

Familiar, and yet not. His hair was peppered with lightness and he approached without hesitation or concern, dropping to his knees in the green puddle and beamed as if death didn’t surround them.

He smelled the same as the other girl, like kin, but when his skin faded away and a black panther took his place, she recoiled. Every instinct telling her to move closer to the girl, to protect. As if realising his mistake, the man reappeared in a shimmer of light.

“Go,” he said and Neah tensed. He couldn’t make her leave the girl. The kin.

“She is mine as she is yours,” he said quietly and Neah allowed one paw to slide back and away. “I’ll take care of her now. You’re needed elsewhere.”

She was? The words didn’t seem correct, and yet a small thread inside of her seemed to throb in response. As if telling her, yes, yes, go, run, find him.

Another paw moved away and then another, until Neah was moving, following the thread inside that pulled her closer. Her pace increased, her paws hitting the ground with a rhythmic thump that seemed too heavy, not quite right.

People dove out of her way or shrank back against the walls even as they exclaimed their surprise, but she didn’t pause. Couldn’t. Just followed the call that drew her in like a siren song.

A man, human, stood outside of the door she wanted.

To his credit, he didn’t hesitate, just turned the handle and ushered her in as if this were a regular occurrence.

She couldn’t say for sure yet whether that was true.

Her surroundings were unfamiliar, but the scent of the male naked in the bed next door echoed inside of her, his soul filling in the crevices of her own, the thread drawing taut as she approached the end of the bed.

As if he sensed her, the man sat up, hair mussed and sheets pooling to his waist before a slow grin curled his mouth. “There you are.”