He had probably chosen the word because it was the least suspect explanation for why the two of them would be traveling together. Better that than play her brother. But still, the word crept beneath her skin and made her shiver. Did he want that? Part of her wanted him to want that. But it only made her feel more guilty for all the secrets she was keeping.

They stayed with the women for the next hour, cooking vegetables over a small fire. They shared a small meal as they spoke. Kiran took over the questioning for a while, his protective side coming through as he asked about the guards—how many there were, how often they patrolled, if any of them were dangerous.

The women were reluctant to speak about the last, but did offer Roar one piece of advice. “Do not be caught anywhere alone with one of them.”

They did not have to give specifics for her to understand what kind of danger that implied; she could guess.

Nazara added, “And if the prince visits, it is best to be wary.”

Aurora’s mouth went uncomfortably dry. “The prince?”

“He wants us to leave,” one of the other women volunteered. “He will arrest you or worse if you give him reason.”

The guilt inside Aurora began to boil into anger. Bloody skies, the world should not be this way. Her home should not be this way. It was not fair. If she did not already despise Cassius Locke, this would be more than enough. These women, these children, they deserved so much better. They deserved compassion at the very least, dignity and respect. They deserved—

Her walls shattered in one terrifying crash, and she was bombarded with hundreds upon hundreds of different sensations at once—none of them her own. She gasped for breath, struggling to stay afloat in the deluge. She tried to focus on one thing, picking the spirit of the little boy who was right in front of her now. He was sad but curious; she saw in his thoughts that he had been hovering among the other children while they played, hoping that somehow he might feel some of what they felt. It hadn’t worked. He had not felt joy in so long.

She wanted to give him that; she tried, but there was another presence smothering her—sickly and dark, it latched on to her, and she felt the gruesome taint of its touch deep inside her.

Destroy, it whispered, slithering deeper inside her.

That was all the warning she got before the enchanted crystal she wore beneath her clothes burned blazing hot, and the sky cracked open with light overhead. Aurora did not know where the skyfire hit, only that it was nearby. The smell of char was sharp and sudden in the air, and the hair on the back of her neck rose in warning prickles.