Chapter 3

The servants' wing in the palace was way off from that bright ballroom glow. The air here stayed cool and still, just with the old wood creaking sometimes and mice scratching around far off. For Selene, though, the quiet did not weigh her down. It felt like her safe spot. She slid into her little room and shut the door, leaning her back against it. Her breathing came heavy still from seeing Veyra's hand resting on Aurek's arm, from that quick pain when his eyes locked with hers over the crowd. The image stuck sharp in her mind, hot enough that she worried it might eat her up.

No room for fear right now. No space for wanting either.

She looked over to the room's corner, where a wooden chest hid under some worn-out blanket. She walked across and pulled up the lid.

Five shirts sat inside, folded neatly like they meant something holy. Rough cloth, all of them, stiff from the wolfbane poison in the fibers, seams a bit crooked, but holding strong. This was her whole effort poured in, her way to make things right, her big hope hanging on nothing. Fingers bled with each stitch she put in. Nights lost to weaving made her quiet go even deeper. One shirt still needs finishing, though.

She pulled it out and set it on her lap. The half-done thing almost buzzed with some kind of waiting energy, like it wanted her to keep going. Threads knotted up fast, though, the fibers rough and stinging her skin. Her hands showed old scars from all those years. Small burns where the poison got in deep, marks of what it cost her.

Selene got a single candle going, its light throwing shadows long on the walls. She grabbed the little bunch of wolfbane flowers she had picked in the garden before, stripping them carefully for more fiber. Fingers worked on their own almost, twisting the bad strands into thread, pushing the needle through cloth. One stitch after another. Like words she could not say.

Faces of her brothers floated up in her head.

Kael came first, that steady, noble type, his wolf eyes still full of sad command when she ran into him out in the woods. Dorian next, all fire and hot temper, his growls sticking in her dreams. Elias, always the one laughing biggest. Now he stayed quiet in his fur and teeth. Rowan used to sing through their home, filling it up. Those got swapped for moon howls now. Cian, the quiet, gentle one, even his paws soft under the curse. And little Finnian, tail wagging, nipping, playful. That broke her every time she saw it.

Six brothers total. Six shirts to match. Six lives are right on the brink because she stayed silent. She had the sixth almost wrapped up. Almost there. Threads kept slipping, though at the very end, like the curse pushed back against her. Selene leaned in closer, shoving thoughts of the ballroom away, shoving Aurek's look away too. The needle jabbed her finger hard. Blood beaded up and dropped into the cloth, soaking right into the poison weave. Candle jumped wildly. Selene went still.

A deep growl rolled out from the dark corners. Her heart jumped high. She whipped around, eyes scanning the slim window. Amber eyes glowed bright out in the night.

She let out a shaky breath, chest easing some. Just Kael.

Her oldest brother waited right past the wall, wolf shape big and wide, fur black like night. He hung back in the tree shadows, staring at her with that mix of want and bossy need. Selene put her hand flat to the glass. Kael moved up, rubbing his huge head on it like he could touch her palm.

Tears stung her eyes. She wanted to talk badly, tell him she had not quit, that she was near the end, that freedom came soon for him. Her promise held her voice tight, though. Nothing could come out until the shirts finished.

Kaels' ears twitched quickly. He looked past her, out toward the big palace. Growl built low in him. Like a heads up. Selene turned, brow creasing. Candle flame dipped again, like the wind had hit suddenly. The door stayed shut, though. Window too.

Her heart went dead quiet.

A whisper slid in through the air. Still weaving, little dove. Selene went ice cold. She knew the sound. Smooth like soft cloth, but cutting like blades. She twisted to the corner. Breath stuck in her throat.

Maris came out from the dark, her maid dress melting into the low light. Smile on her, though, was not tired like other workers. Twisted up, wanting something bad. Eyes gave off a green shine in the candle glow. Selene gripped the half shirt harder. Chest hammered away.

Maris. The only friend she had down here with the help. Shared bread bites, passed on whispers Selene never replied to. And now she stood there, smile bending like a snake's tooth.

Ah, Maris said low, all mocking purr. The princess who can't talk still scratches at her spell. How sweet. How pointless.

Selene felt her throat tighten hot, but the promise kept her shut. She just stared, shirt balled in her lap. Kaels' growl boomed from outside, his big body shoving at the window. Maris laughed only. In that noise, Selene saw what she always dreaded.

Not alone in the weaving dark. Watched the whole time. By someone in the know. Selene could hear her own heartbeat pounding like thunder right in her ears. Maris moved in closer. Her shadow pulled out long and skinny over the floor of that tiny room. The candle flame jumped around a lot. It made Maris's eyes look green and shiny. Like some kind of hunter staring down prey.

"You figured you were smart enough to stay hidden all this time," Maris said in a low whisper. "But secrets like that start to fall apart after too long, little dove. I know what you're hiding." Selene felt her throat tighten up. She wanted to speak out. To ask what was going on. To say it wasn't true. Still, she stayed quiet. That silence protected her. It also trapped her. If she talked now, her brothers would be lost for good. So she didn't move. Her hands shook a bit. She gripped the shirt she was still working on harder. As if holding on tight could stop everything from coming out.