“And she’s possessed, like me?”

“Yes. And that’s why Ambrose is interested in the both of you,” Caine said. “He wants all three of us together for a triumvirate of power.”

Stunned, Rosalind tried to picture her twin. “I think I remember her braiding my hair.”

“She was the sweet one. She used to give the servants food when they were hungry.”

The servants. There was that third person again. “And I used to torment them. Are you telling me that I’m the evil twin?”

“If you forced me to choose between good and evil, that would be my best guess.”

“What else can you tell me about her?”

“I haven’t seen her since she was four or five. But I know she completes our circle. Three mages, each aligned with one of the shadow gods. Together, our power would be unparalleled. He has a few old scores he’d like to settle, including one against the Brotherhood.”

Rosalind’s knees felt weak. “Three shadow gods.”

“Right. The night god, the forest god, and—”

“The sea god.” Her mouth went dry. She’d felt the sea mage on Thorndike’s campus.

She’d sent the Brotherhood after her own sister.

She stumbled over a tree root, her mind a whirlwind of revulsion and guilt. “Caine. What if I’ve done something terrible?”

“What have you done?”

Her heart pounded in her rib cage. She had to tell him about Miranda, and the temptation to confess about the incubus was overwhelming.

She closed her eyes, an image flashing in her mind of Josiah, handing her the knife. “If you don’t do this, humans will die,” he’d said.

Rosalind’s body shook like a leaf in the wind. “I did terrible things for the Brotherhood. And I think I’m responsible for—”

“Shhh,” he lifted a finger to his lips. “Something’s happening.”

She listened to the wind whispering through the trees. Distant screams floated along the breeze, and her chest tightened.

“We need to go.” Caine broke into a run.

She sprinted with him, snapping through twigs and branches. The screams grew louder as they ran. As orange flames came into view, Rosalind’s heart constricted. Was this their destination—burning?

She pushed on faster, her breath ragged in her throat, until they reached the clearing. A young woman stumbled in front of a blazing gothic mansion. Blood streaked her beautiful face, and a tiara hung limply from wild, blonde tangles. A black cat stood before her, its back arched.

“I fought them,” the woman said, her eyes frantic. “I fought them with magic, but they’ll be back for me. They found me here.”

Caine rushed to her, grabbing her hands. “What happened?”

“It was the mage Hunters. I used a protection spell, but it won’t last. They wanted to burn me. They burned my house.”

“How did they know you were here?” Caine’s voice was urgent.

She wiped a shaking hand across her forehead, smearing the blood. “I never thought they’d come for me. I didn’t have the shields up.”

Caine gently wrapped his fingers around her arms, staring into her face. “Omerelle. Tell me what they said.”