Page 76 of Break Her Heart
I paused at the empty patch where our family’s booth used to stand. The space looked smaller than I remembered, but the memories it held were too large to ignore. Mama scolding me for being rude to customers, Papa bringing Mama a bouquet of flowers he bought for her, and August and I arguing because he would never leave me alone.
“Bronwen.” It was a whisper but the goosebumps on the back of my neck told me it was sent through a spell and not from someone near me. I scanned the booths around me, craning my neck to look to the buildings surrounding the square.
Jonah.
I stepped to him and he pulled me into the shadows. What was he doing? Witches were free now. We didn’t need to slink through alleyways like criminals anymore. But his hands wereshaking, his eyes scanning the open square like someone might be following him.
“Jonah? What is it?”
“The—the coven,” he said, the words forced like he didn’t want to say them.
My stomach twisted. “What about the coven?”
“There are some that are giving your brother a hard time.”
A pit opened in my chest. “What do you mean?”
“They’re not wanting to submit to him. I’ve listened in on some of their conversations.” He leaned in closer, voice barely a breath. “They plan to overthrow him.”
The air around us seemed to still. The noise from Market faded, replaced by the ringing in my ears. After everything, after all we had lost—how could they?
“Do you have names?”
His throat bobbed. “The one leading it is in Bodaira. Alden Gran.”
The name didn’t mean anything to me, but the location was enough. Bodaira told me where to start my hunt. I let the silence linger for a breath longer than needed, forcing the fury to settle beneath my skin instead of bursting out. “I will handle it.”
* * *
I sat in the archives with August and Benedict, looking through another tome of artifacts to find any blades that seemed like they could be used. I finally felt like we had made some progress. We had determined over the last few weeks that the blade must be one that was from Alentara. I told August when we were alone how Carrow felt different when I touched him, that the magic inhis veins was darker, stronger than what I felt from any other vampire I had come across.
When Benedict questioned why we thought it was a blade forged in Alentara, August admitted that I had encountered Carrow before, but he didn’t go into specifics. So we read. And read. And read. I hated it.
This was what I imagined torture to be like.
We’d come up with nothing other than a few names of blades that we decided were important enough to find more information on. It was nearing dusk, so our time had come to an end, which meant it was time for me to pay some witches a visit.
“I am going out tonight,” I said as we stepped into our chambers, already bracing myself for the argument that was sure to follow.
“Out?” He leaned in, smiling like he was teasing, but there was something tight beneath the curve of his mouth. “Does my Winnie have a date?”
The words were meant to be playful, but his eyes betrayed him. Jealousy simmered there, barely masked.
“A date with some witches that need to remember their place,” I said flatly, shrugging off the tension and turning toward the door.
He stepped behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat of his body. I didn’t need to look to know his jaw was ticking. He hated this—hated not knowing, not being in control.
“Oh, this sounds delightful. Let’s go,” he said too casually.
I spun on my heels and pressed a hand against his chest, stopping him mid-step. “I do not need your help.”
“You’re right,” he said. “But I wouldn’t miss this.”
I narrowed my eyes, folding my arms. “I am going to Bodaira. I don’t have time to wait for your guards, mydearking.”
His lips twitched, not quite a smile. “We can leave and return before they realize I’m gone.”
“August,” I warned. “They will send an army after us to find you.”
