I nod once, acknowledging the decision. I’ll take our fiery little witch with us…though I can’t help but wonder if it’ll come back to bite me.
“When do we leave?” I ask, watching as Tyran removes his crown and sets it on the table.
“Today, of course,” he answers. “This business with the North can’t wait. It’s our first lead; we follow it while it’s fresh.”
“What about petitioning the coven for a meeting?” I turn to Iris.
“A messenger was already sent,” she replies. “We could wait, but there’s no guarantee we’d get a response. Curse users are the most rational type. I think it’s safe if you approach nonthreateningly and with a witch beside you.”
She shrugs. “If we get denied, we get denied.”
Then she adds, more firmly, “I can’t stress enough how important the Le Strange name is. And Millicent’s strength. That alone will likely open the door.”
“Millicent isn’t here because you don’t want her knowing I’ll be posing as Felix?” I ask, her absence finally making sense.
Felix tugs at one of his curls. “We need her cooperative and sharp. Even if curse users are more stable than other witches, they’re still lethal. Millicent likes me; she’ll be more agreeable if she thinks I’m there.”
I stare at him, stunned. “Be serious. She considers humans vermin.”
Felix rolls his eyes. “Iamhuman…and less bothered by that than you are. The rich in this city call the poor sewer rats. I don’t see much difference.”
“The difference is, she kills humans. The poor don’t,” I snap.
Kalix chimes in casually, worsening my mood. “Actually, some have. Mental illness, starvation, desperation—it happens.”
Before I can fire back, Iris cuts in smoothly. “Her coven hasn’t practiced human sacrifice in some time. If she ever did, it would’ve been when she was much younger.”
I tense. “And how exactly do you know that?”
I don’t mean for it to come out so tight-lipped, but it does.
“I like Millicent, and I talk to her. That is all I will say.” Her face hardens, daring me to prod further.
I remain silent. I’ve already lost this argument.
How are they all warming up to her?
She is probably manipulating them—has to be. Nora’s favorite is surely taking after her. I saw her with Tyran a few nights ago laughing, relaxing, and having a good time. I still can't wrap my head around it.
I walked her to her room afterward. I nearly made a mistake.
Whatever lives in my chest has started to stir in her presence. Itwantsher. Craves her. And I don’t understand why.
The only theory I have is this: the darkness in her mirrors my own. And that recognition is rousing the thing I’ve kept chained for years.
Even drunk, she noticed my eyes going black as I began to slip. She saw it and I felt it: the urge to take her, mark her, leave her trembling and suffocating with the sound of my name, and then finally extract the power from her veins. It was nearly overwhelming.
I barely held myself back.
I need to be more careful. I cannotbe alone with her until I understand why this is happening and how to stop it.
This part of me…I used to let it run wild when I was younger. On the battlefield, in blood and pain, I fed it power and let it guide me like a monster. I fought it for years. I trained until my control became instinct—until I could breathe without fearing what lived beneath.
Millicent is the first thing inyearsthat’s tested my control.
We spend another hour finalizing the logistics: where the coven is located, where Tyran will be stationed with his guards, and how Millicent and I will carry out our roles.
When we finally leave the meeting chamber, I follow Kalix down a rarely used hall to his apothecary. A large, rusted padlock clicks open, and he swings the wooden door open.
