82

“But that’s finished,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I never should’ve considered that moron an option at all. Not when I had the smarter of you two already here in Efra.” He grinned, wolfish, and his eyes gleamed clay-red—I’d never seen his wolf so close to the surface before. I shivered, cold fear tightening around my heart. “I know you won’t fail me the way Griffin did, my dear Reyna.”

“What do you mean?” I asked quietly. “What do you want from me?”

“Daybreak will rule Frasia again,” my father growled. “That man—that false king—only sits on the throne because of the violence of his father. If he thinks he can succeed with this farce, he is more of a fool than I ever imagined. When you marry, you will be heir to the throne.” “And I will be a wolf of Nightfall,” I said. My voice only shook minutely.

“That doesn’t matter,” my father said. From his belt, he pulled a small knife, sheathed in leather, and handed it to me hilt-first. “Take this. You will return the throne to Daybreak. This knife will kill any wolf in one strike, the closer to the heart the better.”

“What?” I asked. I didn’t touch the hilt. “Is this—is this the same poison as the knife Barion give me?”

“Of course,” my father said. “Specially formulated by the Daybreak apothecary.”

“Why would he do that?” I asked. “Why would he give me a poisoned knife?”

“Because he is loyal,” my father said, looking at me like I was stupid. “He is loyal to me, and knows I will take my place as the rightful King of Frasia.”

I was stunned to silence. Even Barion knew about this plot? Barion, who was more like a father to me than the man in front of me was? My heart shattered into impossibly smaller pieces. I hadn’t even considered that Barion might be in on this but it made sense. He was only here as my escort on my father’s orders. I was just a pawn to him, just as I was to everyone else in Daybreak.

I knocked the knife out of his hand, and it went clattering across the hall. “I won’t do it,” I snarled. My wolf raised her hackles, ready to leap forward and bare her teeth. “I won’t rule by violence and assassination.”

“You don’t have a choice,” my father said. “Either you return the throne to Daybreak, or you become the Bloody Queen. Either way, you have blood on your hands.”

“Griffin has already put a blemish on our house!” I straightened up and squared my shoulders, staring my father down. My rage and betrayal burned hot enough to melt my fear. “I will do as I choose, not act as a pawn on your chessboard!”

“I should’ve known you were a coward,” he said, baring his teeth. “A true Daybreak wolf would never behave like this.”

Suddenly fear doused the anger just as quickly as it’d risen up. “What? I am a Lady of Daybreak.”

“You are no daughter of mine.” My father’s eyes flashed clay-red. So unlike my own silver. His teeth elongated, just slightly—I’d never seen his wolf so close to bursting forth. My own wolf snapped her teeth internally, begging to charge forth before his did. “You are not of my bloodline. You are the bastard child your mother carried when she was sent to Daybreak to be my wife. I only raised you after her death because I would not let her indiscretions risk my rule. The augurs all said there would be a Choice, so I raised you in hopes that you would be the key to returning the throne to Daybreak. But I should’ve known no training could beat the Starcrest out of you. You were always going to be a traitor. It’s in your blood.” I stared, stunned to silence.

He picked up the dagger from where I’d tossed it. For a brief, horrible moment, I thought he would unsheathe it and drive it into my own heart—my frozen, broken, demolished heart.

This was my father. The man who had raised me, however distantly. He’d never loved me. Not even a little. I was nothing more than a soldier. A resource.

Instead, he shoved it into my hands. He needed me. “I expect you to do as I’ve instructed,” he hissed. “Or else things will not turn out well for you.”

I swallowed. “Goodnight, father.” I stepped backward toward my quarters, still half-expecting him to attack me. I opened the door and slipped inside, hurriedly closing it and turning the lock.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the door. My adrenaline was still high, my heart pounding and blood rushing in my ears.

Here I was, alone in my room. Even more alone than I’d felt when I’d first come to Efra. How long had this rage been bubbling in my father’s heart? How many times had he wished he could tell all of this to me? Me, his pathetic daughter that had tried so hard to please him? All he’d ever cared about was using me. Keeping me under his control. Was there anyone in Efra who was on my side?

25

hardly had any time to process what my father had said. Everything Griffin had said was true—I wasn’t a daughter of Daybreak at all. What that meant for my future, I didn’t know. I barely had time to feel my own heartbreak before I was awakened again, cleaned up, dressed, rushed into wedding planning meetings, meals, and then back to my room for a fitting. I hardly had time to breathe, let alone discuss what had happened with Fina or Adora.

I was paying for the two days I’d spent immobilized by grief. Now, I was floundering in the rushing surf, trying to keep my head above water. I couldn’t think about my father, or Griffin, or anything that had happened over the past few tumultuous days. I had to survive this wedding, get my father out of Efra, and then—maybe—I could let myself feel.