Page 56 of Bound By Roses

There’s no way out of this. This isn’t how I wanted her to find out, but if I refuse, we leave empty-handed and Abby will never let it go. She knows I’ve been lying to her and if I refuse to come clean, it will only make things worse between us. She doesn’t even know what it is yet, and I can already feel the anger and disappointment swirling inside her.

“The night we saw the veil wraiths for the first time, Jade pulled me aside to warn me. He said that anyone who sees a loved one beyond the veil is fated to die within a year.”

A hand flies to her mouth. I hadn’t realized it had been holding mine, but now I feel nothing but its absence.

“Go on,” the Spider coos. This is what she wanted. Entertainment.

I do as she says, hating every moment of this. Loathing her just as much as I loathe what this is doing to Abby. With our bond so open, I’m feeling her reaction as if it were my own. The hurt. The betrayal. The devastation. “But he lied. It was a lot less than a year. Weeks. Days, even.”

“But you’re alive. You’re—” She cuts off suddenly, and I know it’s because she’s only just realizing the extent of what happened. “Jade’s sacrifice. He knew you were going to die. That’s why he did it.”

“Yes.” I can’t say anything more than that.

“And you’re alive.”

“Yes.” She’s too close to knowing, but there’s no way to stop this. The Spider probably sensed the lie the moment we entered her trap. No matter what we asked for, this would have been the price.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? You’re alive. Jade is alive. Why keep this from me? We’ve had weeks to talk about it, so don’t tell me you just didn’t find the right time.”

I feel the hope in her words, and that’s probably what hurts most of all. She doesn’t want to see it. Doesn’t want to connect the dots that are already lined up and waiting for her. I know I should answer her, but I can’t. I can’t be the one to break her heart the same way mine has slowly been breaking with each and every sleepless night. Instead, I let her read the truth in my eyes. They sting and blur with my guilt.

Her eyes widen when the last piece falls into place, and then they narrow. “You lied to me again last night, didn’t you? You saw Evan in that rift!”

“Yes.” I have to force the word out. One of the wolves whines, but I don’t bother to find out which.

“So what Jade did didn’t matter.” Her words are soft, but the emotion behind them is sharp. Every word she speaks is another slice into my flesh.

“It seems he extended my timeline.”

“How long do we have left?” There’s that hopefulness again. The insistence that there must be a way out of this.

“I have no idea.”

The Spider’s laughter cuts through the tension as she dances in a tight circle, clapping her hands at the entertainment I’ve provided. “Tell her of the weight of it. Tell her how you feel death pressing down on you heavier than even the weight of what you carry in your pocket. With each day, it grows heavier. Each nightmare brings it closer. Tell me—how do you sleep while the wraiths sing you their lullaby?Do you sleep?”

“That’s enough!” I shout, unable to take her mockery any longer. “It’s your turn.”

I nearly expect Abby to object, but her lips remain in a flattened line. We’re far from done talking about this, but for now, we can set it aside to get the answers we’ve come for.

The Spider lets out a disappointed huff. “Jealousy brought Imelda to me.”

“Jealousy of whom?” She’s not going to make this easy.

“Your mother. She was prophesied to bear a Chosen child and because of that, her people revered her. Imelda wanted that honour. She wanted to be the one to birth the child that would save the sirens. She went to her mother and asked her to weave fate to make it so. The queen refused.”

“And so Imelda went to you.”

“Correct.” The word is sing-song. She is too joyful for this dreary place.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that Sierra would refuse her role and flee. If Imelda wished for a Chosen of her own, she would need to weave her own fate.”

“But that’s not possible,” Abby says before I can. Her tone is flat, and I know it’s because of the emotion still churning within her.

“It is not possible without a weaver. I told her that Sierra would bring into this world a daughter who would possess such a gift. If she wanted to harness that for herself, she would need to steal the child.”

“Why did she wait so long?” I want to ask her how she knew so much of the future without being a weaver herself, but I can’t risk another price. Imelda is more important.

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