Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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Valarie and I had fallen silent on our return journey from the Szarvases', but the closer we got to our home, the more my sister was brimming over with something she was desperate to voice.
I couldn't deal with whatever she wanted to say, I knew exactly whom it was going to be about. Everything about me—the tense way I gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, my sweat-lank hair hanging over my face that was deeply grooved in anger—all said I sure as fuck did not want to talk about it. However, it wasn't going to put Valarie off. She half-twisted around to face me better, bracing an arm on the backrest of the car seat. "Varen—"
"I don't want to hear it," I snapped back, glowering at the road ahead. I was driving way too fast through the copse of trees. The oncoming storm ruffled the scraggly branches to tease leaves free and scatter them across the narrow driveway.
A wild forest, awash with rich autumn colors, encircled my family home. It wasn't as ancient or savage as the Hemmlok Forest but it was just as vast. It stretched as far as the eye could see over rolling hills, with a webbing of rivers and streams that cut through its knotted depth.
During the blistering hot summer months, my siblings and I would hike through its pungent, gloomy shade to a churning river with a waterfall cascading into a deep pool. We'd bask on sunbaked rocks until we needed to cool off by plunging from the cliff edge into the brisk water below. This year, with summer only a few months ago and Gratian's death still new and raw, none of that happened.
"You d-don't even know what I'm about t-to say."
"Irma," I hissed back. My jaw ached with how long I'd been gritting my teeth. "I don't want to talk about her, Val." I pushed the sports car faster through the dense thicket. I itched to lay my hands upon my father and snap his fucking spine right in half for what he'd arranged behind my back with Irma's family. But despite it all, beneath my ire and my sister's desire to speak to me about my ex-girlfriend, both Valarie and I were dreading the impending moment we'd enter our home. It was the sadness that cloaked our home like a pall we both shied away from, yet couldn't avoid.
"Yes, okay, Irma," my sister confessed, tossing up a free hand. "Obviously you d-don't want to m-marry her."
"It's that obvious is it?" I drawled, my tone dripping in sarcasm.
"She m-missed you while you were in Colombia. She v-visited us often while you were away."
I rolled my eyes and tapped the steering wheel with my thumb in irritation.
I fucking bet she did.
"I-I-I know that things hadn't been good between you two b-before you left, but Varen..." She pulled an apologetic face as if she wasn't sure how to say it. "There's no way out of this f-for you. You're going to have to marry her."
"I know!" I roared, slapping my hand across the steering wheel and feeling the bite of pain. "I fucking know it!" But I sure as hells wasn't going to go down without a fight. Nor was there any fucking way I'd let my father get away with how he'd gone behind my back and shafted me.
