These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(47)

Pretha summons a bottle of wine and pours herself a healthy serving. The dark, velvety red liquid seems to gobble up light. She drains half the glass in one pull and immediately refills it. “What about your responsibility to your people? We’ve protected you for twenty years so you could lead them, and now—”

“Now that’s off the table. I’m not the one wearing the crown, so we need to find another way to protect them.” With a sigh, he turns to her. “I don’t have a choice. It’s not like I’m looking forward to taking her back to him. He’ll have her eating out of his hand in no time.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Pretha takes another sip of her wine. “What if Mab says the only way to do this is for Brie to forfeit her life and let Sebastian rule?”

“There has to be another way,” he says, but he seems to be talking to himself.

“Why do I think you’re more opposed to Brie’s death than to seeing Sebastian on the throne?”

He cups his forehead in one big hand and squeezes his temples. “The last thing we need right now is my ego getting between us and the cure for my dying court.”

Pretha blows out a breath. “We’ll find a way. I have to believe it.”

Turning, he lounges against the rail and studies his sister-in-law. “How are you doing with all this?”

“The pending destruction of our entire realm?” she says, her eyebrows inching up. She hoists her glass in the air. “Oh, just great.”

Finn shakes his head. “This is the first time you’ve stayed at Castle Craige since your parents sent you away. How does it feel to be home?”

My heart sinks. Pretha’s such an assertive, capable member of Finn’s team. It’s easy to forget that she was once a girl in love with her brother’s betrothed.

“It’s . . . fine. Good. It’s good.” Her expression goes distant as she looks out at the sprawling valley beyond the terrace. “I miss this place, but I didn’t realize how much until we stepped foot in the palace.” She bites her bottom lip, and her big brown eyes brim with tears. “I have a lot of happy memories here.”

Finn reaches for her wrist and squeezes. My heart tugs at the rare sign of physical affection from the shadow prince, but at the same time an uncomfortable feeling wraps around my heart. Jealousy, I realize. I’ve been jealous of Pretha’s relationship with Finn from the day I met him. At first, because I thought they had a romantic relationship, but now because of their connection. They have each other to lean on. I’ve been so lonely since running from Sebastian. I have all these people around me who claim to want to be my friend, but how can I trust them when they care more about this power than they’ll ever care for me?

If I could shed this power like an unwanted cloak, would any of them care about me? Would I even have a place to stay or would I still be running?

“Your brother and Amira’s relationship isn’t a romantic one,” Finn says, releasing Pretha’s wrist.

“Rumor has it that he’s trying to impregnate one of his consorts to carry on the family line.”

Pretha scoffs. “I’m pretty sure he’s been trying that since he came of age.”

Finn grunts and flashes a rare grin. “I knew Misha back then, and I hate to break it to you, but he wasn’t after an heir when he took all those females to his bed.”

“Trust me. I’ve heard the rumors.” Chuckling, Pretha studies her wine. “Brace yourself. I think he has his sights set on Brie now.”

Misha wants me to be his . . . consort? Or is that what he wants them to think? My instincts tell me it’s more of the second than the first. Misha is kind and gorgeous, but more likely he wants access to this power or has some plan to use any perceived relationship with me to increase his own standing in Faerie politics.

Finn arches a brow. “And what does that have to do with me?”

“You’re protecting her. Everyone knows it.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He turns back to the view and leans his forearms on the railing. “After everything.”

“Has she visited your dreams again? Since . . .”

He shakes his head. “No. I don’t think she intended to that time. Her magic was surging through her transformation, and her mind latched onto me as a way to make sense of everything.” He drags a hand through his curls, making a mess of them. “Sebastian really loves her—deceit or not.”

“Yes, well . . . what did love ever do for us but mess with our plans?” Pretha asks, and Finn grunts in agreement. “I should go,” she says. “I need to say goodbye to the female I love and pretend that I’m okay sleeping alone while she’s under the same roof.”

Finn arches a brow. “You don’t have to sleep alone,” he says softly. “Amira has her own chambers. Everyone knows she’d happily make room for you in her bed.”

Pretha closes her eyes and swallows hard. “I decided long ago that I would rather be lonely and miserable than be her mistress. I can’t fault anyone who would’ve chosen differently, but for me . . . it wouldn’t be enough. It didn’t seem fair to enter into an arrangement that would leave me feeling angry and bitter toward her and my brother.”

Finn gives her wrist a final squeeze. “Sleep well.”