“How can I?” Malik asked, his voice heavy with distrust. Nothing remained of the friendly, honey-sweet tone she’d grown to love from him. She’d never seen him hurt like this. She’d never seen him angry. She should have never been responsible for causing injury to such a pure human, and yet, she was the source of his pain.

How could he trust her, indeed.

She hated her power, but she’d needed it. Her gut twisted with the knowledge of what she’d done. She’d wielded a paralyzing, hypnotic evil when her friend was poised to strike, brainwashing him into little more than an unwilling servant bent to her will. Amaris knew how they must see her. They had to be wondering how such a poisonous serpent had been living in their roof, disguised amidst their family so long without anyone realizing the dangers that had slept mere feet from them.

Her heart clawed at her from within its ribbed cage. She could see into his eyes that Malik’s kind, happy heart was utterly broken. She wished for a moonless night so she wouldn’t have to witness their expression, but instead, the pearly light hid nothing. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Ash.

“They aren’t here to hurt us,” she emphasized. “Can’t you see that? Have they made any move to attack? The only thing they’ve hurt is the beseul. They saved me.”

“I have a dagger to the shoulder that says otherwise,” Malik said, his voice low and bitter.

“It was a defensive wound.” She motioned in a desperate attempt to placate. How could she make this right?

The fae stayed silent, watching Amaris as she pleaded their case. They were not poised to strike, but they did seem prepared to flee if the situation between the reevers soured.

She needed to speak to the winged men responsible for her turmoil. She had questions and deserved answers. She blamed them for the wound in Malik’s shoulder and the pain on his face. She blamed them for the thick anguish in Ash’s voice. She blamed them for what had shattered between her and her men. She had a lot to ask and just as much to say, but none of it would happen while the reevers remained present.

“Go.”

Her command was to Ash and Malik.

Their faces were masks of genuine repulsion. Her heart split, bleeding onto the ground around her as it emptied. They were her family. They were her brothers. She was angry, and confused, and desperate, and had no idea what to do. There was no clear path, no right answer, but there were wrong ones. The only wrong answer now would be to forsake the chance at understanding.

If she didn’t get answers from the winged fae, this would have all been for nothing.