I feel Benton watching us. Nothing else matters in this moment though. My heart’s knocking hard for me to make a move that I won’t get another chance to make in this wicked kingdom.
Aching pain strikes through my chest when I turn my back on him. I can’t start something I’ll never finish. This isn’t a fairytale. Synder isn’t a good guy. And I’m most definitely not a princess.
I have to go.
Because when dawn comes, I’ll be gone. Just like he wanted.
Chapter Nineteen
The storm breaks.Soft rain pitter-patters along my cloak by the time I reach the courtyard of the castle. The wind smells of the sea. Crimson colors light my path toward the Great Hall as the limbs of the will-o’-wisps dance around the hundreds of people milling about.
The hood of my cloak is pulled tight against my billowing gown, but I can still peer around slightly. I search the entire way there, but I never do spot Ivy.
But someone familiar does come into view.
Ruiner stands on the far side of the building, his wings covering the frame of a man whose golden tattoos illuminate them both. To only confirm my suspicions, everyone who passes Ruiner looks at him like he’s lost his damn mind... for yelling at someone who only he can see.
Poor guy. Can’t catch a break in this hellhole of a kingdom.
Casually, I stride up to the pair of total opposites.
“I’m not him!” Malace says adamantly as I get closer. “Whatever you think you know is wrong.”
“Hello?” I ask, hating that I’m interrupting a very important argument.
The moment Ruin locks eyes with me, he shifts , spreading his wings wider to hide me from the view of the guest filing into the hall.
“What are you doing here?” Ruin seethes.
“Wow,” Malace whispers, his eyes lit up like his gaze itself owns the sun. His attention dips to the ribbon of the cloak that ties against my lacey cleavage. The fabric mostly covers the birthmark there, but Malace seems to find it anyway. He doesn’t look at it like it’s strange. He looks at it like it’s a beautiful memory.
Ruiner’s glare slices toward my friend, but despite his rage, he says nothing to Malace’s dreamy attention.
“He knows. It’s not safe for you. Let me take you home. Please, Bella,” Ruin says so intimately, I want to sink right into him. I want to give him everything he wants.
But I can’t give him that.
“I—my sister is here, Ruin,” I finally confess. It’s a weight of a secret that I’ve been hiding from him. “She doesn’t remember me, and I don’t know how to fix that, but I’m leaving tonight. I just can’t leave without her.”
“Ivy,” Malace guesses, and once, more Ruiner glares at him like his voice alone turns Ruiner murderous.
Leathery wings shuffle around me with the chill of the wind picking up, and it takes him several moments to finally reply.
“We’ll have to get Leavon to lift whatever repression ruin he’s placed on her to forget you. Once he has done that, she’ll remember everything he has repressed. If he doesn’t lift it, she’ll never remember.” Ruiner’s plotting really swings into effect as he thinks it over at a rapid pace. “Find your sister during the festival and get her to show you somehow where the ruin is. Only powerful magic can revert ruin magic. We’ll have to find someone if Leavon won’t do it himself.”
All the information trickles into me, but I’m still caught up on one thing and one thing only:
“Where’s your mark of Brotherhood?” I ask Ruiner.
His brows lower at my question, but he turns for me. His wings lift high, arching above his big body like he’s a dark god. Eight thin black tendons line his spine, pulled in and arching along the sides of his back. They’re like a cage in appearance, but they’re much more deadly than they appear. And there, at the center of his spine, is a glowing, golden mark.
Just like Synder’s.
As I suspected, Malace’s brows lift high at the sight of the familiar ruin.
“I know that mark,” he says slowly.
“It’s the mark of the Brotherhood. Anyone who has ever shared the bond of Brotherhood has this mark.” I watch him as confusion seeps into his crimson eyes.