Lydia Benton
The voice that is both me and not me slithers through my mind like a venomous snake, whispering the worst thoughts I’ve ever
had like they’re irrefutable facts.
Emmett and Bram chose her, but they should have chosen you instead. She never appreciated all you did for her. She’s selfish.
An attention seeker. Deliberately childish. She was cold to you when you came home from the Otherworld the first time and
needed her comfort. She’ll only ever resent you.
Kill her.
It’ll be so easy.
Kill her.
This will all be yours. They’ll both be yours.
I press my hands over my ears and scream as loud as I can to drown out the awful words.
I love Ivy, I remind myself. It’s the foundation upon which everything else rests. I love my sister.
I love her so completely, it’s not something Bram could ever corrupt, not with all the magic in the world.
The memories I saw in the Isern Caves come flooding back to me. Ivy might have seen Emmett, but I saw her. She was wrapped in her black cloak and Papa’s scarf, lost, in the dark streets of London. In one shaking hand, she held
my pearl baby necklace, the twin to the one she left at the base of the tree for the creature we now know was Bram.
She was looking for me, I realized with horrifying clarity. It was a memory from last winter when I was first in the Otherworld.
I’d abandoned my sister, leaving her lost and alone. She was putting her very life at risk to search for me, all because of
a selfish bargain I made on a whim. Ivy had never been outside alone before, but she was brave for me, because she believed
I needed her.
I’ve always needed her. I wish I could tell her that now. I never should have left her. I should have let her in when I came
home. I spent so many nights turning the lock of the door of my bedroom and then pretending to be asleep when I heard her
knocking. I shut her out because she was the only person who truly saw me and I didn’t want her to witness my shame. There’s
so much I have to apologize for.
As quickly as the voice in my head came, it dissipates like mist clearing a harbor. The crowd has gone silent as well, watching
Ivy and me in stunned horror.
The faeries have a thirst for blood and chaos, but this seems to have surpassed even their taste for horror. There are many
good souls among them; it is a shame that Bram’s cadre so often drowns them out.
Rhion struggles against his shackles so desperately his wrists are dripping blood. There’s a dirty rag around his mouth, but
his eyes say everything.
Bram stands from his throne and stomps his foot. “You’re not any fun!” he screams, the edge of his voice sharp, like a toddler screaming for a toy. “This isn’t any fun! This was supposed to be fun!”
Ivy pushes herself off the ground and looks to where both the horn and the knife lie in the dirt, directly between us.
My eyes meet hers and I shake my head slightly. Not yet.
As I lift my gaze to Bram, it’s hard to believe that just hours ago he was asleep next to me in my bed, breathing softly.
But as I see Bram now, his face contorted with rage, I realize I’ve been indulging in a fantasy. Bram might still be living,
but that boy is long dead. He likely died centuries before I was ever born, and there is no amount of love I can pour into
Bram that will bring him back to life.
“You’ve ruined everything!” Bram is red in the face, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
Ivy and I just stare at him. Maybe if we let him burn out his temper tantrum, we can all go home. But I know it’s a foolish
thought. It won’t be that easy with Bram.
We’ve committed the most unforgivable sin; we’ve humiliated him by refusing to play his game.
“You want to be clever about it? Fine. No more games! Will that make you happy?”
He extends his ring-clad finger and points to Ivy, then me, then back to Ivy, then me, where it comes to rest. I look up at
this boy who I loved, who I love. Fury blazes in his eyes and before I have the chance to gasp or beg, or even cry out in surprise, he levitates Ferrinus
and sends it flying across the arena, directly into my heart.
My breastbone cracks, and then I feel nothing at all.