“You don’t care about anyone but yourself!” Keeley screeched, shoving her sister hard.

Gemma kept her feet, so she was able to come right back and shove Keeley. Then they took hold and were trying to drag each other to the ground.

Caid caught Keeley around the waist and pulled while Laila attempted to grab Gemma, but that got her a defensive elbow to the face, breaking her nose.

His sister’s head snapped back. “Owwwwww!”

Keran stepped in then, pushing her hands between the battling sisters and shoving them apart.

“That’s it!” she bellowed.

The sisters began to point at each other and screech, but Caid had no idea who was saying what. Keran didn’t let all the screeching and hysterics bother her. She just grabbed each woman by her collar and yanked the two close. She began whispering to them, and whatever she said managed to calm them down. Then she jerked her head toward a corner and Caid saw Beatrix standing there. Alone, quiet, and very pale. She had her hands tucked into a fur muff, the hood of her cape over her head.

Noticing what Caid assumed was her sister’s devastation, Keeley pulled away from Gemma and Keran and went to Beatrix.

“Come,” she coaxed, gently taking Beatrix by the arm and leading her out of the chamber they were in.

Relieved not to have to get between a War Monk and a pissed-off blacksmith, Caid now focused on his own sister.

Her nose was still bleeding and there were growing bruises around her eyes.

When Caid placed his fingers around her nose to feel the damage, his sister whispered, “We need to talk.”

Together, they exited the chamber and headed down the passage. They passed the chamber that Keeley and Beatrix were in, the pair against the far wall, speaking softly to each other. They continued on until they found another empty chamber and stepped inside. Thankfully, all these passages and chambers were well lit with torches affixed to the wall, so while they spoke, Caid could put his sister’s nose back where it belonged.

“What is happening?” Laila asked.

“I wish I knew.”

“Do you think that witch is toying with them? Ow!”

“Sorry. Sorry. She’s done some damage to your nose.”

“Do what you must.”

“And I doubt the witches are toying with anyone. They’re not exactly known for having a playful way with people.”

“But both sisters can’t be queen.”

“I know that. And so does Keeley. Honestly, though, she doesn’t even want to be queen.”

His sister pulled her head back so she could look him in the eyes. “Come now, Caid. Who wouldn’t want to be queen?”

And Caid answered honestly, “Keeley Smythe. Or have you not been paying attention this entire trip?”

* * *

“I don’t care what any of these bitches say, Sister. I have no intention of being queen.”

“I know that,” Beatrix replied softly. “I really do.”

“But why would they say that? Are they hoping to turn us against each other?” Keeley shook her head. “That’s foolish. That would never happen. We’re family.”

“Of course.”

Keeley began pacing around the chamber. “So what now? How do we confirm you as queen and move on from here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how do we make you queen so you can destroy the Devourer for what he’s done and then build our town back? All the people we’ve ever known have lost their homes. Their businesses. Their entire lives were there. And he’s destroyed it all. Because of us. As queen, you can fix that.”

Beatrix flashed a small but sweet smile. “Gods, Sister. You really do care, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Keeley stopped pacing and stood in front of Beatrix. “Just tell me what you want me to do. Tell me what you need from me. So we can fix this and help those who are innocent. It’s the right thing to do. You see that, yes?”

“I see it.”

“Good. Now”—Keeley clapped her hands together—“I say we go back to the throne room and talk to the witches and . . . and . . . and . . .”

Keeley stopped talking. Her mind felt wiped clean and for a moment, she forgot what they’d been discussing. She forgot where she was. She forgot who she was. She forgot everything.

But she forgot only for a moment. Then it came rushing back and she finally looked away from her sister’s face and down at her hand, which was wrapped around the bloody knife handle sticking out of Keeley’s lower gut.

“I know you won’t understand,” Beatrix calmly explained. “It wasn’t supposed to be you. Not once Gemma showed up. I was so glad when she came home. The timing was perfect. Then that idiot Delora . . . she just ruined it all and I had no choice. But for me to get what I want, it had to be done.”

Keeley clung to the hope that this was just an accident, that her sister had stabbed her accidentally. Perhaps she’d just meant to threaten her with that blade and she’d stumbled or panicked.

But, as if to prove her wrong, as if to make sure Keeley understood exactly what was happening, Beatrix didn’t release the weapon. No. Instead, she pulled it across Keeley’s belly, attempting to disembowel her. If she was as strong as Mum or Gemma, Keeley’s guts would be pouring out onto the floor.

Keeley, however, was able to wrap her hands around the wound, keeping everything inside her body as she slid against the wall and down to the floor.

Beatrix tucked her blood-covered hand back into her fur muff and gave Keeley another one of those small, sweet smiles.

“I am sorry,” she said again, but Keeley didn’t really think she was. Because there was no sorrow in her face. No pain in her eyes. Actually . . . there was nothing in those eyes. And Keeley finally understood, there had never been anything in those eyes. All these years she’d been searching for a sign of . . . something. When she didn’t find it, she simply assumed she wasn’t looking the right way. But now she knew. There was nothing there. Nothing.

Sitting on the floor, Keeley watched her younger sister, whom she’d always protected, always cared for, calmly exit the chamber. She headed back toward the throne room, leaving Keeley and the rest of her early life behind.

CHAPTER 11

Caid had just pushed his sister’s broken nose back into place when he sensed something was wrong. It was the prey animal that lived deep in his soul; always restless, always anxious. Always knowing when danger was close by.

He released his sister and walked into the passageway. He saw Beatrix’s fur cape disappear around a corner, which meant she was not heading back to the throne room. He began to follow her. Protecting her was still his job until they got her onto her throne, but something . . .

“What’s wrong?” Laila asked as she rushed to his side, her eyes tearing from the pain he’d caused fixing her nose.

He didn’t answer his sister. His sense of dread was so overwhelming, he couldn’t. Instead, he simply turned toward the chamber he’d seen Keeley and Beatrix in.

“What’s wrong?” his sister asked again.

Caid ignored her, walking past her to the chamber entrance. Keeley was on the floor, her back against the wall, her legs bent at the knees, her hands covering her stomach, and a pool of blood leaking out around her.

She looked up at him with those dark eyes. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

“Laila!” he cried out, now running to Keeley’s side and landing on his knees next to her hip.

“By the gods,” his sister gasped behind him. She crouched on Keeley’s other side, moved the blacksmith’s knees, and they both froze at the sight of the knife handle sticking out of her stomach and the blood that poured over her hands. “I’ll get help,” Laila said before she ran off yelling for assistance of the witches.

Caid was afraid to touch Keeley. Afraid to take out the knife. Afraid it would kill her instantly. For once, he didn’t know what to do.

A few seconds after his sister had run out, her voice still demanding help, Gemma ran into the chamber with Keran right behind her.

“Holy fuck,” Keran barked out. “What the fuck happened?”

Caid shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Where’s Beatrix? Caid!” He looked at Gemma. “Where is Beatrix?”

“I don’t know,” he said again. “I saw her leave, I think.”

“Was she being dragged? Was someone with her?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Gemma gazed into his eyes but before she could ask anything else, the witches rushed into the chamber and pushed Caid and the others away so they had access to Keeley.

As Caid went to get up, Keeley’s blood-covered hand grasped his and he saw the panic in her eyes; watched tears slide down her face and into her hair.

“Centaur, move!” a witch ordered him. “Move!”

Their hands were pulled apart and Caid was pushed across the room by firm, confident hands.

“Please, my lord centaur, let us care for her.”

Laila took him by the arm, dragged him into the passageway. Gemma came out a few moments later, rushing past the witches hurrying in.

“Samuel!” she called out, motioning to her squire.

“What’s happened?” the boy asked, confused by all the witches moving in a panic. He seemed to be spinning in circles as he came down the passageway, trying to see why all the witches were running around him. “Keeley’s horse was going mad in the throne room and then she just took off! Now everyone is running. But no one will tell me anything.”

When he was close enough to hear her without screaming, Gemma ordered, “Find Beatrix.”

“What? She’s with you, isn’t she?” His eyes widened. “Gods, was she kidnapped?”

“I don’t know. Just find her.” Samuel started to go, but Gemma pulled him back. “If she’s alone when you find her . . . follow her. Don’t let her see you, though. Stay in the shadows.”