Chapter 5

"No."

My voice echoed in my head.

Romin raised a brow. "It's not a request."

I fisted my hands so tightly my palms were bleeding. No way was this happening, no way. Was it not enough that I was forced to dress up and show up here—but now I had to go sit at the table of each Isle to receive my gifts?

No. "I can't do it. I just…I can't." My legs wouldn't hold me. My stomach couldn't handle it.

"Yes, you can. It's tradition, Fall. You can, and you will," said Romin, his words heavy, as if to remind me that if I made him say that again, he wasn't going to hesitate to use his magic on me. He wasn't going to hesitate to threaten me with punishment if I didn't obey like a good little lamb.

Tears in my eyes again.

"I'll help you get there if you can't walk," said Tristian from my side, grinning ear to ear. "Our beautiful Fall is shaking, brothers."

Wrong, wrong, wrong!

I shot to my feet so fast the room spun. "I am not yours," I said breathlessly. "And I can walk by myself."

"Very well," Romin said. "The sirens are first. Then the witches, the skinwalkers, the dragon riders, the faeries—and the Blood Burrow is last. Think you can remember that?"

I was walking.

Somehow, I was moving all around the table, behind Romin and Emil and Valentine and the brides to get to the other side, closer to the table where the sirens sat at our right.

Valentine looked up at me as I passed him, but I refused to meet his eyes. I refused to acknowledge him at all. He wasn't going to try anything funny in front of all these people, so for tonight, at least, I was safe from his wrath.

But he would be coming for me. I had no doubt in my mind that he would be coming for me the first chance he got.

Until then, I focused on the guests, on getting whatever gifts they'd brought here for me so I could get the hell out of this fucking inferno and be by myself again.

The sirens all rose to their feet when I approached them, fake smiles on their beautiful faces—but it was all an illusion. I could see it now, could see the magic hanging about them as if it was color, and they'd drenched themselves with it to look the way they did. Absolutely breathtaking—with hair that reached their hips and sharp eyes in blues and greens and rich browns, full lips and flawless skins, the illusion of them otherworldly.

Still, it was easy not to get caught up in them because I saw the magic that shielded their true selves. I saw it as clear as day and for once I was thankful for the damn Blood Call, for the magic running in my veins now. Because that day when I first saw the siren in the water, I'd been completely caught up in her beauty. I hadn't noticed the magic then, not even a little bit, and I'd been about to fall on my face at the sight of the illusion of her.

Now, I was breathing. I was immune. I was impatient.

And they said, "There she is," almost in unison.

"Autumn Hayes, how wonderful to meet you," said one of them as she brought her hands to her chest, her almost completely transparent dress made out of thin mesh and fish scales not really covering anything on her body.

"Yes, yes, indeed," said another.

"Even though you cost us an Evernight, we're hopeful that you'll give us another in return," said the next.

"After all, you're one of the very few whose blood is compatible with all the brothers."

"All of them—oh, what joy!"

"What pleasure, indeed."

Laughter.

"What an honor," said Sedelis who stood to my right, looking me over the same way she'd done the day Mama Si brought me to the Whispering Woods. "You must consider yourself lucky."

I swallowed hard, hands fisted, chin up. Don't throw up, I reminded myself, because even though I hadn't eaten, the reality of the situation wasn't lost on me—I was standing before sirens. Actual sirens who ate human flesh for a living, and I'd seen all of it with my own eyes in the Storyteller. It was impossible to keep my skin from crawling at the reminder.

And at the thought that they were still doing the same thing to this day, probably on the regular.

"Does she speak?" said one of the others. Their aura was exactly the same, even though they had different colored hair and different features. But they were still so similar they could have been twins.

"Of course, she does," said Sedelis. "Let's sit."

With a wave of her hand, a chair identical to theirs appeared right behind me, and the sisters sat. They all watched me with a raw hunger in their eyes, and my mind kept replaying that scene I'd seen in the Storyteller, of them eating Hansil's pirate crew on the shore.

Had their faces been the same then as they were now?

I couldn't really remember. All I'd seen with clarity was Syra because she was the only one the author of the book had described—and she had indeed been more beautiful than the ones sitting at the table, even though these sirens were wrapped up in magic.

Having no other choice, I sat down on the chair and folded my hands on my lap, praying to any god who'd listen that this was over quickly.

"We are the siren sisters of Ennaris, as I'm sure you already know, Autumn Hayes," Sedelis said. "You've had the pleasure of meeting me. Now, meet Andya, Oreinne, Fessa, Raxae, and Mea."

I was sweating by the time she spoke all the names of her sisters, nodding at each, and I could have sworn that each name held raw magical power when it left her lips.

Breathe, I said to myself, and gave a deep nod. "Pleasure." It was the best I could do.

"She's very pretty, indeed," the third on the left said—Fessa.

"I guess it makes sense that Grey would lose his head over her. After all, he's only a man," said Andya, the one with the piercing green eyes sitting right next to me.

"They told us that Grey was absolutely smitten by you," said Sedelis from my other side, then put her hand on my lap. Right there on my thigh. "Is it true?"

Don't you dare throw up!

She was touching me. My God, she was touching me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I met her eyes. Get your filthy hand off me. "Yes."

Sedelis smiled.

Sedelis took her hand back.

"Oh, do tell us everything. Grey always made us curious. So very reserved. So detached from the rest of us—tell us! Come on, tell us!" said Mea, and they were all clapping and talking at the same time by the minute's end, begging me to tell them what Grey was like.

Those goddamn tears were back to pooling in my eyes again, but maybe it was a good thing because they blurred the image of the sirens completely, and all I saw was their silhouette.

So, when they stopped talking and waited for me to answer, I said. "He ordered me to never tell anyone about him."

That lie they could do nothing about. Grey was my master in their eyes, and his order I couldn't disobey, just like I couldn't disobey Romin. They didn't need to know what Grey was like when it was just the two of us. That side of him was only meant for me, and so it would remain forever. I knew who Grey was. Despite having spent such little time with him, I knew who he was in a way these people never would. And I'd take that to my grave.

"Oh, boo!" said Raxae. "That's no fun."

"But he's dead! So what if he ordered you?" said Fessa, and it was all I could do not to launch myself at her.

He's not dead! I wanted to shout at her face. Grey's not dead. Shut up, shut up, shut up!

Except I didn't know that, did I? Grey was banished. Grey wasn't in the Whispering Woods anymore. And when vampires were forced out of this fucking Isle, they died.

"Shut it, Fess," Sedelis said. "A bride can never disobey her master."

"It doesn't matter now, does it," Andya said. "He's either dead or dying—what does it matter what he was like?"

They all sighed.

"I guess it doesn't. Too bad, really," said Raxae again.

"Exactly. Now, can we move on, so I'm not bored to death?" Andya impatiently waved a pale hand at the table. Magic charged the air, and something appeared in the very middle of it—something round and maybe a few inches tall and covered in a piece of white shimmery satin.

"Your gift," Sedelis said. "You may have the honor." And she pointed at the satin covering whatever they'd hidden underneath.

My hand shook so badly as I forced myself to reach for it. The sooner I was done with this, the sooner I could get the hell out of there, and there was no better motivation that that—but I still could do nothing about the way my body was shaking. Just get it over with, just get it over with, I chanted in my mind, and I gripped the piece of fabric with two fingers as they all watched me, smiles on their faces, their hands in front of their chest as they waited…

I pulled the fabric toward myself.

It revealed a fishbowl with a fish inside. A grey fish inside.

A grey dead fish inside.

Bile in my throat.

The sirens burst out laughing, so hard and so loud the entire hall heard it. Even the music from the band faded at the sound of their laughter, ugly and alluring at the same time.

"A dead fish—get it?" they said.

"It's grey—get it?!" they said.

"Because your Master Grey is a dead fish now, too!"

Laugh, laugh, laugh.

The entire room had joined them. My eyes were stuck on the dead fish floating upside down in the water of the transparent bowl until they were filled with tears again, and those tears spilled down my cheeks. I couldn't look away from it as every single person in that room laughed their hearts out.

A dead grey fish in a fishbowl.

What a sense of humor, right?

What a fucking sense of humor.

My shoulders shook as I cried or laughed—maybe something in between? I couldn't be sure, but my limbs were too heavy to move, and the tears just wouldn't stop spilling, and I couldn't look away from the fucking dead fish in the bowl for the life of me.

Look away, look away, close your eyes, look?—

"That's enough."

A hand around my arm. It squeezed tightly and pulled me up to my feet.

Oh, come on! the sirens said.

It's just a joke!

You should learn how to take a joke.

It was supposed to make you laugh, not cry!

Ha-ha-ha-ha…

"Move, Sunshine."

That word.

I blinked and the tears spilled out of me all at once. A charge of energy shot throughout me, making every hair on my body stand at attention. I turned to see that Valentine was beside me, his hand around my arm, and he was walking with me toward the next table—to the witches.

My feet were glued to the floor, and by God, I would not move with that man by my side for another fucking step.

"Don't touch me," I whispered so low he might have missed it if he wasn't a vampire.

It must have been the shock because Valentine let go of me instantly.

He looked at me like he was in pain again. He looked at me like he was miserable. Like he was sorry.

But had he forgotten that I'd seen all there was to see on him? Had he forgotten that I knew who he was behind his lies and that pretty face?

"Fall, I?—"

"You can't kill me here," I whispered. "Not in front of everyone." At least I hoped so. "Leave me alone."

I moved.

Somehow my legs supported me, and I moved away from him while Valentine lowered his head, still looking miserable, like he was as uncomfortable in his skin as I was in mine. Like he really felt bad for how the sirens mocked me or felt sorry about the position he'd put me in.

He was the reason Grey was gone, banished. Not just because he'd challenged him to a duel but because he'd tried to fucking kill me—twice—and had forced Grey to stop him. Had forced Storm to try to kill Shadow after the duel was over.

Now, I wished he'd succeeded. Now I wished that little dragon I'd once grown to care about was dead.

"It's an honor to meet you, Autumn Hayes."

I blinked and the last of the tears that had gathered in my eyes spilled out of me. I was already standing in front of the witches, and all seven of them were on their feet, looking at me. I'd made it to their table without realizing it, and without falling on my face.

"Please, have a seat. Join us for a moment."

The one who'd spoken sat at the left, and she had a small smile on her face. A genuine smile, my instincts said, except my instincts were shit so I didn't trust them anymore. They'd said that Mama Si and Valentine—and even fucking Brandon—were safe to be around and look at me now.

Unfortunately for me, I had to endure all of this before I could leave, and my legs were about to give up on me any second, so I sat near the woman, and all the others sat with me.

The witches. That's what I needed to focus on—the witches and my surroundings, just to give myself a moment to breathe. Just to give myself a moment to forget the sirens and their gift, that dead grey fish floating in the bowl.

God, they were cruel. So fucking cruel they'd broken me all over again within seconds.

What did you expect? They eat people for a living! said a voice in my head, and it was right. They were sirens. I shouldn't expect better from them, not at all.

But it still cut right through me to see that dead fish in the bowl.

"The sirens have a…strangesense of humor," said the witch sitting to my left.

Even now, her words took me by surprise, simply because of how absurd that sentence sounded.

"Strange?" I said without really meaning to, and then I was laughing and crying again, and I was a goddamn mess by the time the minute was over.

The witches smiled like they were sorry for me—all of them. They all wore black dresses, gorgeous fabrics covered in shimmer and gemstones, pointy hats on their heads. They weren't nearly as appealing to the eyes as the sirens, but they, at least, were real. No magic shielded their true faces. They didn't look like fucking corpses in real life—they looked like this. Nothing more and nothing less.

"Yes, strange might be a bit mild," the witch said once I stopped, then handed me a napkin to wipe my tears with.

I shook my head. "I'm fine." My hands would do a good enough job.

But she insisted. "It's a magical napkin. It will fix your makeup right away. You're a mess."

Well, fuck.

I took the napkin from her hand more out of curiosity—it was white, very ordinary looking—and I wiped my eyes with it. No stain came off me at all. No mascara or foundation or blush.

"Oh." A magical napkin. How fancy. Not nearly as impressive as it would have been a week ago. "I couldn't care less about my makeup, to be honest." Or any of this bullshit for that matter.

"But the Evernights might," said the witch. "My name is Reeva Lorein, current ruler of Witches' Wing, and these are my sisters, as well as my most trusted advisers."

I swallowed hard and forced myself to look at the smiling faces of the witches. They, at least, didn't look like they wanted to eat me raw.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I forced myself to say.

"The pleasure is entirely ours, Autumn," said one of the witches across from me. She had chocolate brown hair in smooth, thick waves and lips painted a deep red, almost the same as Mama Si's. "We're sorry about your loss."

"We are, indeed," said the others, and it was a breath of fresh air.

"Thank you," I choked, fighting back the urge to start crying again. Enough with the tears. Enough with the fucking tears—I would not show them again how badly they'd hurt me. Not the guests and not the brothers. No matter what the witches or the faeries or anyone else was going to gift me tonight—I would not cry again.

That's a promise I made to myself, and I intended to keep it.

"Such a sad thing for an Evernight to perish so soon, so young, when there's not a single heir born yet. The people grow restless," Reeva said, shaking her head at herself.

"He was banished," I said. "It…it wasn't his fault. He was challenged." And he saved my life.

"Oh, we know. The Evernights have released an official statement. They haven't held back any details."

But they have! I wanted to say. The words were at the tip of my tongue, and I was dying to spit them out.

Then I looked up at the main table at the head of the room, and just like I suspected, I found Romin's eyes on me.

He was watching me. God, he could even hear the way my heart was beating, I was sure of it.

And so was Valentine.

I turned to Reeva again. "Then you know." Lies. They knew lies.

"It's sad that your master isn't here, young one, but we were told that your blood is compatible with all the Evernights. That is no small thing," Reeva said, and she dragged her chair a bit closer to mine, leaned her head, too, like she didn't want anyone else to hear her. "You're a smart woman. Use that to your advantage."

"I have no advantage." I was weak and alone and completely new to this whole thing without a single clue how to go about anything, and nobody to teach me. I was doomed, and it beat me why I was still trying. Why I didn't end this whole misery tonight.

"Not right now, you don't," Reeva said, and I could have sworn the concern in her wide brown eyes, the sorry in them, was real. She cared. She knew the state I was in, and she cared. "You're alone. I imagine the other brides hate you. None of the people of the Isles will pray for you—they all despise you right now. To be honest, we did, too, before we saw you."

The other Lorein sisters nodded their heads and looked downward, as if they were ashamed of themselves.

"It's not fair." They despised me, as I despised myself, but it wasn't fair, was it? Valentine had challenged Grey. Valentine had tried to kill me. Grey was just trying to save my life.

Would they have rather I'd died?

Oh, God, of course they would!

I would, too. I'd have chosen my death over Grey's any second, without a moment's hesitation. I would have chosen Grey.

"What does fair have to do with life?" Reeva asked me, like I'd said the most senseless thing. "Is it fair that any of us live like this to begin with?"

My eyes closed. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'd like to receive your gift so I can keep moving." So I could go hide in my tower and pray that I somehow, magically, found a way out of this mess.

Reeva sighed deeply. "Oh, I understand, dearest Autumn. And I am truly sorry for you, for the life you're forced to lead. Do remember one thing, though." She put her hand over mine on my lap where I held the napkin tightly, and I didn't flinch. Her skin was warm. I wasn't repulsed by it as I had been from Tristian and Sedelis. "Nothing lasts forever," she whispered, squeezing my hand. "Not the good, not the bad, and definitely not the ugly. It's a universal rule that has but one exception, so trust that it is true."

I gave her the best smile I could muster, even though I didn't believe it, not for a single second because there simply wasn't any way out of the trap I was in. "If you say so," I said anyway.

"Now, your gift," the witch said, and she took her hat off. To see her without it was so strange—like I was looking at a different person altogether. Her eyes were such a light brown—like amber. And her hair wasn't as dark as it had seemed, and there was a glow to her skin that the shade of her hat had hidden away from me.

Wow. She looked incredible.

And she reached for the inside of her hat the next moment and produced a strange necklace with a thin golden chain and a round crystal in the middle, wrapped in vines of gold that looked like they were holding it prisoner in there.

"We originally planned another gift for you, as is custom from our people—a book of spells and recipes for potions you would have no use for because you cannot do rune magic." She smiled at me and her eyes lit up. "But you seem like you need something you can actually use, young one."

I narrowed my brows. "It's okay, really. The book is just fine." Especially when that necklace seemed like a very, very expensive piece of gold.

"I want to," Reeva simply said, putting her hat back on her head, and it immediately gave her a darker aura, made her seem colder, more intimidating.

"Why?" I asked because it felt wrong to even touch what she was offering me. It was too much. Far too much.

"Because you break my heart," she told me, and she said it smiling, like that was a good thing. "Here. This is a magical crystal. With enough magic, it shows you your heart's greatest desire. Take it." And she put it in my hand.

"Really, I can't. It's too much," I whispered, though I was mesmerized by the transparent, slightly cloudy looking gemstone in the middle, half the size of my palm.

"Nonsense. It was meant for you," Reeva said with a wave of her hand. "Give it magic, a lot of magic, and you will see what you want most. You will see the life you want to live, young one. This will give you the greatest gift of all—the gift of hope." Her voice was pitched higher, like she was excited for real.

Her sisters weren't, though. They all smiled, but it seemed forced, and their eyes were constantly moving around us, as if to make sure nobody was close enough to hear.

"I don't need hope." I needed a plan. I needed an end.

"Everybody needs hope," Reeva said. "And you will have plenty of it once you see where you're going."

"Thank you," I whispered even if I didn't believe a single word she said. Because even if I saw myself out there in the human world, living a quiet, peaceful life all by myself in that crystal, it wasn't going to give me hope because I already knew it wasn't possible. I couldn't leave the Whispering Woods. My fate was set in stone.

"Be careful when you use it. It can be a drain as it requires a lot of magic," she told me.

"Well, I don't really have a lot of magic." And wasn't that for the better? I didn't want to see what my heart wanted most, and also know that I was never going to have it. It seemed like such a cruel joke to play on myself—even crueler than the dead grey fish in the bowl the sirens had gifted me.

"Not yet, but you will," Reeva said, and she slowly came closer again, whispering, "I will give you this piece of advice as part of our gift to you, young one: use whatever you have to your advantage. Your magic is your strongest weapon now. Tend to it. Harness as much as you can."

Now that was definitely something I was interested in. Magic could help me. Magic was the only thing that could keep me safe from the Evernights. "How do I do that?" I asked Reeva, holding onto the napkin in one hand and the necklace in the other.

"By being with them!" she told me, eyes wide and full, fucking endless when she was so close to me.

Ice-cold chills rushed down my back. "No." Fuck no. Not in any hell.

Not in any heaven, ever.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, Autumn. The more a bride lays with an Evernight, the more blood she gives him, the more power she gathers, and you can be with all of them. Imagine all the power—and if you actually get pregnant? Oh, just imagine it!"

"Stop it, Reeva." I didn't want to imagine anything, and I was never going to be with any of them. I'd die first. I'd fucking stab myself through the heart with a damn fork.

"Na?veté will not save you from the injustices of life," she told me, and it was like a knife straight to my heart because that, I believed, was a hundred percent true. "Lay with them. All of them. Accumulate more power than any has before you. Then, you will have the means to protect yourself."

Every hair on my body stood at attention by the time she was done. I believed her. I really did, except how could I ever dream of forcing myself to lay with Romin or Tristian or Emil—because Valentine I couldn't even imagine. Not for a single second. How could I ever hope to not be so disgusted by them that I didn't even want to see them across the room, let alone let them touch me?

No. It was never going to happen. No matter what price I had to pay for it, even if it was my life, I could not do it.

"I appreciate the gift," I said and stood up, holding onto the table. Reeva looked at me like she knew exactly what was going on in my head, and she was disappointed.

All she said was, "Of course."

Before I could leave, though, my curiosity about something she said got the best of me, as usual. I couldn't help but ask, "What's the exception?"

She said that nothing lasts forever, and that the rule only had one exception. I wanted to know what it was.

Reeva smiled so brightly it transformed her whole face again. "Love, young one," she said. "Love is always the exception."

I had no idea if I believed her, but I thanked her for the gift again, and I thanked the other witch sisters, too. Then I somehow got my legs to carry me to the next table, to the skinwalkers, while the entire room had their eyes on me.