Amara turned away and pressed a fist to her mouth. But the image of his face was forever imprinted on her mind. The way his glassy eyes stared up at the ceiling in horror, the curve of his mouth, open in a silent scream.

She shut her eyes. She was going to be sick. She was going to retch right there, next to the boy’s body. No, I can’t. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Good. Very good, Amara.” Her mother spoke next to her, her low alto voice carrying across the small room like a whisper. “You’ve finally come full circle with your gift.”

Amara curled her fingers into her palms, forcing away the horror from moments ago, washing it down with a much hotter emotion. “Thank you, Mother,” she said as she turned to face Lady Ragna. But inside, she seethed. She’d always wanted Selene’s place as firstborn, but never did she imagine what that would entail, including the death of the boy before her. If she were any weaker, she would run. But if she did, Opheliana would be left unprotected.

Selene, you coward!

Amara stood to her feet. Anger allowed her to look down on the stableboy again. She would do what she needed to do to keep her sister safe. All she had to do was what Mother told her and she would become the heir to Ravenwood. As grand lady, it wouldn’t matter that her sister carried the mark of House Friere on her ankle. No one would need to know. And if someone found out, well . . . She lifted her hand and stared at her palm, then crushed her hand into a fist. She would do the same thing she did to the boy at her feet.

“It is time that we left. We will leave the boy for someone else to find. Follow me to my bedchambers. There is something we need to discuss.”

Amara turned back toward her mother and nodded. The two of them silently left the room near the stables, making their way along the wall toward a secret door at the other end of Rook Castle. A horse neighed beyond the wooden stalls, and a cat darted around the corner. A bitter wind sprang up, and not for the first time Amara was thankful for the thick cloak as she pulled the edges closer to her neck to keep out the chilly air. The sun was starting to come up, painting the sky in purple and pink, when they reached the small door and went inside.

Amara followed her mother across the castle to her bedchambers. Only a handful of servants were awake, and they were easy to maneuver around. The air was cool inside the castle, but not biting like it was outside. Once they reached the thick oak doors, her mother pressed down on the metal handle and let Amara inside first, then shut the door behind them.