6 

That night, Vale has a lamb slaughtered for supper. Because it’s Vale, I question this decision, wondering if he intended it to carry deeper significance.

While he has kindly granted me permission to escort the girl I love to her forced marriage, Vale makes sure I’m excluded from the high table in the cookhouse. I take my meal to a table by the door while Liv and her family feast together at the opposite end of the hall.

Liv sits with Talon and Mila, smiling as she talks to them. I can tell she’s keeping up a cheerful front for their sake. Around me as well, people pretend to be cheerful, chattering about Liv’s marriage. It’ll be great for the Tides, they say. An alliance to one of the most powerful Blood Lords alive and more food to get us through the winter. Everyone is happy. Everyone is cheerful, cheerful, cheerful.

“You know what’s unfair?” Brooke says beside me.

I push my plate away and stare at the mug next to it. Even Luster has no appeal tonight. “Life?”

Though there are hundreds of people between us, I feel Vale’s attention on me and look up. He’s enjoying my misery. Nearby Perry rips into a haunch with his teeth while Wylan, the fool, talks his ear off. It’s unwise to come between Perry and food.

“This.” Brooke yanks up her sleeve, showing me the jagged Seer marking around her bicep. “Just because we aren’t Scires, we don’t even get a chance?”

She’s talking about what’s happening to Liv, I know, but she’s thinking about Perry.

“We don’t choose the Sense we’re born with,” Brooke continues. “I didn’t decide to be a Seer any more than you decided to be an Aud.” She grabs my wrist, startling me. Her hissing continues in my mind.

Vale didn’t marry a Scire. It’s like he makes the rules only for the rest of us. And what’s the point of keeping the Scire line strong, anyway? Why is smelling everything all the time so damn wonderful?

I said these very words to Perry just yesterday, but I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m tired of problems. And I won’t give Vale the satisfaction of seeing me suffer.

I lean into Brooke’s shoulder and sniff. “You smell pretty good.”

Brooke yanks her hand away from mine and shrugs me off. “Tell that to your best friend.”

“Sure,” I say. “I’ll tell him.” I won’t. It wouldn’t make any difference, and he knows how she smells better than I do anyway.

Brooke looks at me, her blue eyes piercing and clear as glass. “It’s a shame you’re not a Seer, Roar. Everything would be so much easier if we liked each other.”

“I do like you.”

“Yeah.” She sighs and turns her attention back to Perry. “I meant more than like.”

I know what she meant, but Brooke and I are never, in this eternity, going to be more than friends. If that’s even what we are now. I tip my head to the side—it works for Perry—and take a slow look at her curves. “I could more than like you.”

The stress must be getting to me because I’m messing with Brooke. She has a dark streak that I’m not equipped to handle like Perry, who scents her moods a mile away. I continue despite myself.

“If you’re looking for something that’s purely physical, I’m definitely interested. We’d have to get Perry’s and Liv’s approv—hey!” I fold over my ribs, where she elbowed me.

“You were dropped on your head, Roar! A hundred times! It’s the only possible explanation.” She jabs me in the ribs again. “And try eating some food once in a while. You’re nothing but bones.”

Her last comment is begging for an off-color remark but I refrain. Clearly she’s miserable. I have no other choice. It’s time to do something that goes against my nature. “Listen, Brooke. I’m going to be honest with you—”

“Why start now?” she snaps.

“That stings. Do you feel better about yourself?”

She rolls her eyes, but suddenly her lower lip is quivering. My thighs tighten up as I fight the urge to sprint for the door. All I wanted was to blend into this sea of cheerfulness. Just for an hour. Just for ten minutes.

“Brooke, I was only teasing.” I nod toward Perry. “All I was trying to say is that he’s not like the rest of us. He’s missing something that doesn’t let him . . . that isn’t . . . that makes him . . .”

I stop myself and reconsider. What I’m trying to say is that Perry’s missing something critical. Maybe it’s the ability to trust deeply. I don’t know. But the way I see it, when you’ve been hurt by someone you love like he has, why would you ever seek love out? Why would you ever risk being hurt again? It wouldn’t surprise me if he never has anything like Liv and I do.

That’s all far more than I want to tell Brooke right now—or actually ever—and I’m starting to depress myself, so I just say, “I think you should move on.”

Brooke’s mouth pulls into a sarcastic smile. It’s easy to forget that she’s pretty when she smiles that way. “Is that what you’re going to do? Move on from Liv?”

Never. I take a sip of Luster and suck the sweet liquid from my lips, giving myself a moment before I answer. “Yes.”

Brooke rolls her eyes. “You’re such a liar, Roar. Your temper smells like turnips. Or whatever it is lies smell like.”

That makes me laugh. “No. My lies smell like honeysuckle.”

Her eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Honeysuckle?”

I shrug, not bothering to explain that the word amuses me. Honey and suckle don’t seem like they should go together.

The noise of the cookhouse rises up around us as we fall silent. I know this is hard for her. She’s losing her best friend and seeing the truth of what she means to Perry—which is not enough. My gaze moves back to the high table. Liv is still talking to Talon. Perry is still eating. I understand exactly what Brooke is feeling.

The world wouldn’t be the same without them.