Chapter 4

"Jax?"

Theo's voice floated down the hall, small and shaky. "Jax, I had the dream again."

Jaxon stood there one more second, staring at the curtain. Then he blew out a breath and turned around. "Coming, buddy."

The door shut behind him.

My legs were shaking. I wiped my bloody hand on my pajama pants, slid out the balcony door, and went down the ivy so fast I scraped both knees.

Back in the guest room, I washed my hand in the sink. There were four deep holes in my palm. Some of the silver had gotten on my skin, and it burned. Silver slowed down healing, even for a healer. These marks would still be there in the morning.

I didn't sleep.

At breakfast, Jaxon and Theo were already at the table. Jaxon had dark circles under his eyes. The rut had clearly kept him up all night. Theo was pale and poking at his waffles without eating them.

"Morning!" I said, and sat down with my coffee.

They both looked up.

Jaxon worked up a smile. "Morning. Sleep okay?"

"Like a baby," I lied.

Theo threw his fork down. It bounced off his plate.

"What did you do to it?"

I raised my eyebrows. "To what?"

"The orchid!" His whole face twisted up. "It's purple! It won't move! Did you poison it?"

Jaxon's smile dropped. His command pressed down on the room again.

"Hazel. Talk."

I took a slow sip of coffee.

"I didn't do anything," I said. "Maybe it's just weak. Something that lives on healer blood probably needs a lot more than one drop."

I looked at my brother.

"So I'm supposed to just let it drain me? I raised you, Theo. I'm not its lunch."

He flinched, just for a second. Then his chin came up, stubborn as ever.

"It's for the pack! You're being selfish!"

Jaxon reached across the table and grabbed my wrist.

My heart jumped into my throat. He turned my hand over, palm up.

Four raw red holes stared up at him.

I watched his face change. The suspicion melted right out of it. His thumb brushed the edge of the marks, almost gently.

"You fed it," he said.

"A little." I let my voice wobble. "It was rough."

He let go and sat back, satisfied. "Then feed it more. If it needs more blood, it gets more blood. That's the job, Hazel. You're going to be Luna."

"The job," I said quietly. "Right."

I stood up. "I'll go do it now. But I need to be alone. It's easier when it's quiet."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. Just don't hurt it again."

Upstairs, I locked the bedroom door.

The bud looked awful. Purple, sagging, the soil around it dry and cracked. The silver had done real damage, but it was still alive. Tough little thing.

I took out my phone, started the voice recorder, and tucked it behind a picture frame on the dresser.

Then I pricked my finger with a pin and let one drop of blood fall onto the glass.

A tiny root crept out through the air hole, slow and weak, reaching for it.

I pulled my hand back, just out of reach.

"Want it?" I said. "Say please, Scarlett."

Her voice came through the link, thin and shaking with hate. You little— I'll rip your throat out—

"Not today."

I left the phone recording and went to take a shower.

That afternoon, Jaxon took Theo out to the training field. Theo hated training. When he was little, he used to hide under his bed to get out of morning drills, and I used to drag him out by the ankle.

Our parents died in a rogue raid when he was five. I was sixteen. Scarlett was nineteen, and she cried for a week and then went back to her parties. So I was the one who packed his lunches and signed his school forms. I was the one he crawled into bed with after nightmares. I'd make him hot cocoa with way too many marshmallows, and he'd fall asleep with a chocolate mustache.

That night, someone knocked on my door.

Theo stood in the hallway holding two mugs. Hot cocoa. Way too many marshmallows.

"I'm sorry I yelled," he mumbled, staring at his socks. "I'm not mad. I just don't want you to be weak. I don't want to lose you too."

My throat closed up.

I took the mug and pulled him into a hug. He was taller than me now. When did that happen?

Maybe I'd been wrong about him, I thought. Maybe he was just a kid. Maybe Jaxon had filled his head with stories, and he didn't really understand any of it.

After he went to bed, I sat on the edge of the guest bed and finally played the recording.

Most of it was nothing. The air vent. A bird outside.

Then the bedroom door opened. Footsteps. A voice I knew better than my own.

Theo. He must have slipped in while I was in the shower.

"Scarlett? It's me." His voice was soft and sweet, a voice he never used with me. "Hang on, okay? I won't let her hurt you again. Tomorrow I'm putting nightshade in her tea. Enough to knock her out cold. Then you can drink as much as you want."

A pause.

"I'll go say sorry to her tonight first, so she doesn't get suspicious. She always falls for my sorry face."