Whether it was because they were facing each other in the dreamscape or something more, Selene could almost feel the burn of Amara’s hurt and jealousy in her words, but also a tinge of fear.

“This power hasn’t come without consequence.” Selene lifted up one of her swords and stared at her knuckles. “I never wanted it. It has cost a great deal.” She said those words as she thought of Damien and how he gave up his choice of marriage to save her, how her gift was affecting his people, how much she missed Ophie and Father, and her recent—and last—encounter with the Dark Lady.

Amara snorted, her confidence returning. “Who cares about the cost if you possess power like that? I would give anything to acquire the power you have. The power to control not just a dream, but every dream. Imagine what you could do and who you could influence—wait.” She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Selene could almost see thoughts flitting across her sister’s mind. “It can’t be.” She shook her head, her eyes bulging. “But it is. This whole time.” Then she threw her head back and laughed.

Selene held her swords out in front of her. Had her sister gone mad?

Amara looked at Selene with a gleeful glare. “Mother believed the prophecy of the Dark Lady—the threat to our house—was House Maris. But it would seem she was wrong. Never would Mother have thought it was right there, right in front of her.” She waved her sword. “That threat from the north was never Lord Damien. It wasn’t even House Vivek.” She lifted her blade and pointed it at Selene. “It’s you.”

Selene took a step back, her swords ready. “What are you saying?”

“You’re the one the Dark Lady spoke of. The one who would come from the north and be the downfall of our house. It was you all along. Not House Vivek. Not House Maris. You. Mother’s prized daughter.” Her sister laughed again. “The strongest Ravenwood. The one Mother pinned all her hopes on. The traitorous offspring.”

Selene stared at her sister, her vision going in and out of focus while her lungs struggled to draw in breath. How could that be?

Then, like the pages of a book turning under the rush of the wind, dozens of thoughts clicked into place. The moment she married Damien she became part of the north. She was now the keeper of Ravenwood’s secrets. She was head of House Ravenwood and yet belonged to House Maris.

And in order to protect her husband and the people of all of the nations, she would be forced to fight her own house. Every last member if she had to. And if she won . . .

House Ravenwood would be no more.

She was the threat.

That one thought rang in her ears until her mind was filled with those words. She was the threat from the north. And now even more so since she had turned her back on the Dark Lady.