Chapter 4

Cain’s boot ground into the floor.

The chain was broken. The blood-amber was a dozen jagged shards.

I stared at the ruined relic. The only thing I had left of my mother.

“Cain,” I whispered.

He stepped back, his chest heaving. “Don’t say my name.”

My right arm was screaming.

When he had stormed in and snatched the pendant from Lilith, his shoulder had slammed directly into the fresh, silver-burned wound.

Hot, black blood was soaking through my tattered prison tunic.

A single drop slid down my elbow and splattered on the hardwood, right next to a broken piece of amber.

“You’re bleeding on the floor,” Lilith pointed out, her voice dripping with disgust. She tightened the sash of her lace robe.

I ignored her.

My eyes were fixed on my son.

I looked at the hand that had just destroyed my mother’s pendant.

I remembered that same hand as a child’s, clutching my finger.

But there was no warmth in the tall teenager standing before me now.

“That was your grandmother’s,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

“A monster who rotted in a cage doesn’t get to be my mother!” Cain shouted, kicking a shard toward my bare toes. “And she doesn’t deserve Grandmother’s pendant!”

I flinched. The words hit harder than the physical blow to my arm.

“I survived that cage,” I answered, forcing myself to stand straighter. “I survived for you. Every single day in the dark, I thought about coming back to you.”

Cain snorted. He turned his back on me, facing the woman who had ruined my life. “Mom, make it clean up this mess.”

The air left the room.

Mom.

Make it clean up.

My lungs refused to expand. I looked at Owen.

The Prince, the man who had watched me give birth to this child, would surely correct him.

Owen just stood there, arms crossed. He said nothing.

“Of course, my sweet boy,” Lilith cooed. She walked over, running her perfectly manicured fingers through Cain’s dark hair. “Don’t let her upset you. You know she’s not well in the head.”

“I want that thing out of our house,” Cain demanded, leaning into her touch. “It smells like dirt. It ruins everything.”

“We’ll handle it,” Owen finally said. He placed a heavy hand on Cain’s shoulder. “Go downstairs. Dinner is ready.”

“Make her pick up the pieces first,” Cain insisted.

“She will,” Owen promised.

I stared at the three of them.

Owen, my bonded mate.

Lilith, my once-sister.

Cain, my own flesh and blood.

A tight circle, united against me. The outsider.

“You know the truth, Cain,” I said, my voice trembling.

Cain tensed. He whipped his head around to glare at me. “What truth?”

“You know I didn’t kill them,” I pressed, ignoring a warning growl from Owen. “Why did you lie to the elders? Who taught you to say those things?”

“No one taught me!” Cain shouted, his face turning red. “I saw it! You were holding the bloody silver dagger!”

“I was framed!” I screamed.

“You’re a monster!” Cain yelled back.

My knees gave out.

I collapsed to the floor. The armor of stoicism I had built over five years of cold stone and brutal hunger shattered, just like the pendant.

A pathetic, broken sob tore from my throat. I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Oh, great,” Lilith rolled her eyes. “Now she’s crying. Playing the victim.”

I curled into myself, clutching my bleeding arm to my chest.

Tears spilled over my lower lashes, burning trails down my grimy cheeks.

Owen’s betrayal had hurt.

Lilith’s frame-up had stung.

But this? My own son erasing me from his life?

This destroyed me.

“Stop crying, Mallory,” Owen commanded. There was no pity in his voice.

“He called her Mom,” I choked out, gasping for air.

“Because she’s the one who raised him,” Owen snapped. “While you were gone.”

“You’re the one who locked me away!” I screamed, my voice cracking.

“Because you are a danger to this clan,” Owen stated coldly. “Look at you, a mess on the floor. You’re unstable.”

“Are you really going to let her stay here?” Cain asked, disgusted by my tears.

“Until after the feast,” Owen answered. “Then we’ll decide what to do with her.”

“She’s pathetic,” Lilith scoffed. She leaned against Owen, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Let’s just leave her here, Owen. The blood wine is getting cold.”

“Yes, let’s go,” Cain agreed, not giving me another glance.

“Clean up this mess before you go back to your room, Mallory,” Owen ordered.

The three of them turned. Owen’s arm was still around Lilith. Lilith was holding Cain’s hand.

They walked out of the master suite.

They moved in perfect sync. Like a real family.

Their laughter drifted up from the grand spiral staircase. The clinking of wine glasses echoed from the dining hall below.

I was utterly, completely alone.

I pressed my forehead to the cold floor. My tears soaked into the wood.

I reached out a trembling hand, my fingers brushing against a piece of broken amber.

The sharp edge cut my index finger. I didn’t care.

I closed my fist around it, letting the sharp points dig into my palm, letting the pain keep me present.

Black poison blood mixed with the fresh red from my own veins, dripping onto the patterned rug.

Staring at the filthy puddle, I suddenly stopped sobbing.

For five years, I asked myself why.

When my own son testified against me, when my mate threw me into the Sunken Church, I had another option.

Prince Alistair of the Pale Moon clan. The man who had always watched over me. He had left a shadow-link deep in my mind. If I called, he would come.

But I didn't.

Partly because the ancient silver and holy wards in the church severed all my connections, cutting off any call for help.

And partly because of my own stupid, foolish hope. My love for my son, my bond to my mate.

I thought if I endured the punishment, if I proved my innocence, my son would remember how much I loved him. My mate would see the truth and take me back.

But now, the wards were gone. And my hopes, like the amber pendant, had been crushed to dust by their own hands.

I would not shed another tear.

I closed my eyes, a cold rage burning away the last of my grief.

I reached deep into my mind, searching for the shadow-link I hadn't touched in five years.

Before the prison, before the betrayal, there had been another Prince.

A man who had warned me about Owen.

A man who had left a sigil of protection in my mind, promising me a place in his clan if I ever needed to escape.

Prince Alistair, I pushed my consciousness out, spanning five years of silence to find the Pale Moon clan’s shadow-link.

Only silence answered.

I tried again, pouring the last of my pureblood strength into the resonance. Alistair. Are you there?

“I see everything clearly now,” I whispered through the link, my tone forged in ice. “Is your offer still good? I’m leaving this filth.”

The shadows around me seemed to stand still.

Then, a powerful, gentle force wrapped around my battered consciousness.

“Mallory?” Alistair’s deep voice echoed in my mind, thick with disbelief and raw fury. “Is it really you?”

“It’s me,” I replied.

“Don’t move. I’m coming to burn that castle to the ground and bring you home.”