Page 68 of When Wishes Bleed

The only problem was her scent.

She plucked a small vial from her purse and dabbed a clear liquid onto her throat and at each pulse point on the inside of her wrists.

“The only way you can attract Tauren is with a love potion?” I snapped.

“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes and tucking the vial away. “Everyone knows you’ve bewitched him. I’m just evening the playing field.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Tauren wasn’t the only one to travel into Thirteen on the Equinox.”

My ribcage tightened.

“That’s right. I saw what you did. I know what you are. And I am absolutely positive you’ve used magic to lure the Prince into your tidy little web. Well, I’m going to free him,” Rose exclaimed, a victorious glint in her eyes.

“I haven’t used magic on Tauren.”

She quirked an eyebrow, tousling the red waves in her hair and pursing her lips, watching her reflection closely. “Then I guess the crown will be mine after all.”

I stared straight ahead, gripping the edge of the stone countertop, all the while telling myself not to hex her.

“I know you can’t marry him,” she said, her tone darkening. “So why are you here?”

When I refused to speak, she narrowed her eyes. “Your custom is to hand-fast. You’re not even allowed to marry, especially to a non-witch.”

“Maybe I’m breaking with custom.”

“Maybe… but then again, maybe not. I bet the producers would be interested in that little tidbit.”

I finally smiled, reveling in the sight of her confidence seeping out of her like a sponge wrung until no water could even drip from it. “If you say one word about me to the producers, or to anyone else, I’ll know…and I will make sure you never in your lifetime utter another.”

“You can’t do that.”

I grinned. “Then go ahead and try it.”

She walked out the door, her heels clicking hurriedly along the polished tile.

18

Isealed the door, unable to take another second of Rose or anyone else’s presence at that point. For years, the only company I had was Brecan when he could steal away, the occasional witch who sought a reading of their fate, usually around Elevation time, and the occasional squirrel who liked to chomp on the wood of my cabin. I realized I’d come to appreciate the calm solitude of a lonely existence.

Tugging the gloves off, I looked at my necrotic fingertips. I was pleased to see the ichor hadn’t spread, and stretching them out didn’t hurt. They didn’t ache. My lips weren’t frozen. Whatever the warning was, I wasn’t sure what it meant.

Someone knocked. That’s probably Brecan... I tugged the gloves back on, but couldn’t bring myself to whisper the spell to unseal the door.

“Sable?” Tauren’s voice penetrated the air.

I unsealed the door. “It’s unlocked.”

He inspected the knob on the inside of the door when he stepped inside. “There are no locks on the powder rooms, as there is more than one facility.”

“I can stop time, Tauren. Sealing a door – locks or none – is child’s play.”

“Right,” he said with a cough.

“I’m sorry. I’m just having a…” I didn’t know what type of moment I was having. There were no words to describe my roiling emotions.

“Do you want to leave?” he asked sincerely.

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