Page 7 of Sticks and Stones and Broken Bones

“She’s not something you can return because you’re unhappy with your purchase,” Rook snapped.

“But she’s one of them,” Casimir spat.

One of who? I didn’t understand.

They all started arguing amongst themselves, but I just buried my head deeper into Nox’s chest, dragging his scent deep into my lungs. I wanted it to be enough to ground me, but panic was building in me. The sounds of the guys arguing was grating over my skin and my spine was tensing with all the aggravation. Something dark blossomed behind my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hide from all the sensations threatening to eclipse me.

Was that my magic trying to break free? Whatever this darkness unfurling was, it felt like it was choking me. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t—

Hands immediately wrapped around my throat from behind and my gaze met Rook’s emerald one.

“Relax. Your magic is about to explode and I’m not sure we’ll survive that,” Rook said with a lopsided smile.

My panic dissipated under Rook’s watchful gaze. His thumb stroked across my pulse and the repetitive touch brought my swirling thoughts back into some kind of order.

“Are you real?” I blurted. I really wasn’t sure. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe I was still alive, sleeping in my bed in the attic and dreaming all this weird shit up.

“I’m real, Lilac.”

I huffed a laugh. Wait… “Lilac?”

“Yeah…,” he said slowly, as if I were the crazy one. “Because your hair is purple.”

What? My hand flew to my hair, and I ripped the scrunchie out that had been holding it up in a messy bun. Curls of lavender, violet and lilac tumbled around my face, and I screamed. What had happened to my hair? It was supposed to be a boring mousy brown. I mean, all the different shades of purple were gorgeous, but still… what the actual fuck?!

That was my last thought before I passed out. Maybe this time I’d wake up for real.

My eyes flashed open and nope. I was still in the Underworld. A sense of dread pooled in my stomach as the events came tumbling back to me.

I was dead.

My grandmother sacrificed me.

I was in the Underworld.

My hair was purple.

I had magic.

That last one was a doozy. Why was it that it took my dying to unleash my magic? Now that I thought about it, I could feel it churning behind my solar plexus, like some kind of parasite burrowing deeper into my bones. It was uncomfortable and alien. It didn’t feel like a part of me so how on earth was I going to tap into it?

And that wasn’t even my biggest problem. Nope, that title went to the state of my mortality, or well, my lack of it.

I was dead. But was I like dead dead or only a bit dead? Could I go back? If I was dead, was my sacrifice even worth it?

The sound of arguing voices grabbed my attention. I opened my eyes and saw the four men in a huddle on the far side of the room.

“How did this happen?” Rook asked.

“Never mind how it happened, how do we get rid of her?” Casimir grumbled.

“Stop being such a dick,” Nox snapped before slapping Casimir around the back of his head. That would totally made Nox my favourite right now. The tender way he had held me earlier also won him Brownie points. He might look intimidating, with his wild and impossibly blue eyes, shaggy black hair, but I bet he was just a teddy bear underneath all that mania. Did crazy teddies cuddle?

“Nox is right, Cass. For whatever reason, the Fates brought her to us. It would be unwise to be disrespectful and shun such a gift.” That was Korbin, his voice soft and smooth.

Casimir scoffed. “Gift? You think she’s a gift?”

“Dude, she was dropped on the altar in front of us, during a Blood Moon. How else would you describe her?”

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