“Promise you won’t come here without me,” Lynx begged.
“I won’t. I can’t.” I swept my arm at the unbroken white snow surrounding the castle. I couldn’t shift yet; I was still slowly healing.
Lynx looked doubtful. He apparently did have faith in me when it came to causing trouble.
“Do you really think I’m such a corrupting influence?”
“I think Branok would kill me,” he said.
Wings fluttered just above us. Alina froze.
We were about to be visited by dragons.
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Honor
Lynx groaned. “Well, here we go. Now it’s going to get ugly.”
“At least it’s not Father,” Alina murmured.
A dragon dove at us from above, the shadow overwhelming and terrifying even when I knew he’d never hurt us. Then he abruptly pulled up, his spreading wings and body as big as the entire rooftop. He let out a growl, smoke curling around his horned face.
Branok transformed in midair, from a fierce winged dragon to a tall golden haired man who didn’t trip, as he stepped down from the air. His human face was exasperated.
“Why are you here, Honor?” he demanded.
“Why are any of us here, really? Philosophically speaking. You really have to wonder about our ultimate purpose in life.”
Branok leaned close to me, carrying the scent of sandalwood and smoke. “I don’t need you meddling in our family affairs.”
I crossed my arms and smiled tightly up at him. “Actually, it seems to me that you very much do need me to meddle in your family affairs. You’re helping to hold Alina hostage. And you call yourself a hero?”
“I don’t care to be a hero, Honor.” His green-eyed gaze was intent on mine. He was infuriating; Branok could be a great man if he’d just listen. “If you come up with some way to break the curse, then fantastic.”
Alina threw her arms up into the air. “There is no curse. You’re ridiculous.”
Branok finally looked away from me to his sister, and it felt as if some spell between us was broken. “There very much is a curse, and the fact that you can’t see that makes me worry all the more about your judgment. No one acts the way you do without being cursed.”
“You just don’t understand about love,” Alina accused.
“I can believe that love and curses have a lot of overlap,” Branok disagreed. “I’ve always hoped to avoid both.”
“There’s no way for Alina to ever prove anything to you,” I said. “But what’s the big deal if she is cursed? What’s the worst case scenario—she runs away with Lucien?”
Branok cast a furious glance at Lynx, who winced. Branok growled, “I can’t believe you brought her here.”
Alina stared between the two of them. Then she turned to me, her eyes wide with shock and wonder before relief spread across her face.
“Lucien is alive!” she gasped. “Father said he’d been killed!”
I rounded on Branok and Lynx. Lynx looked shame-faced, but Branok just crossed his arms, his usual expression of arrogance written across his face.
“You didn’t tell her!”
“Don’t scold us, scullery maid,” Branok leaned against the wall around the rooftop, and I was tempted to push him over the side. “No, I didn’t tell her. He’s a monster.”
“So are you!”
Branok straightened, shoving one hand lazily into his pocket. “There’s a particular potion that shows whether someone is bespelled. We know Alina was enchanted by Lucien. That’s an inescapable fact.”
Shivers ran down my spine. If I took that potion, the royals might understand that I had a curse on me that prevented me from telling the truth.
“Show me,” I ordered.
Branok snorted. “We owe you nothing, Honor.”
“True.” I smiled at him coolly. “But I know you. You can’t stand for anyone to think you’re a fool, and right now, you look like a fool—an arrogant fool who just follows his father’s orders and abandoned his sister.”
Branok let out a huff of a laugh, though his eyes blazed. “Nice try. I don’t care what you think of me.”
“What a liar. You care what everyone thinks about you. You just want everyone to think you’re cool and uncaring and vicious.” I cocked my head to one side, studying him. “And smart. You need for us all to think you’re smart. And I have my doubts, Bran.”
“And what do you need?” Branok’s voice turned to a low purr, full of poison. “You need to be the untouchable girl—light-hearted and laughing and in control. But we’ve all seen you ragged and broken. You think you know me? The five of us know you.”
He’d used my lowest moments against me. I felt it like a punch in the gut; I was quite familiar with Branok’s fists.
I drew a ragged breath to answer, my mind spinning with how I’d hurt his ego, and Lynx stepped between the two of us.
“All right,” Lynx said. “Enough. Branok and I will do the spell. You two can stop trying to eviscerate each other.”
Alina glanced between us all. “You’re all ridiculous. If we must do this, I’d at least like to be comfortable. Let’s go downstairs.”
“I don’t know if we should let Honor into the house,” Branok muttered.
Lynx ushered me ahead of him, ignoring his twin.
Behind me, Alina told Branok, “I at least owe a debt to her. She’s the reason you finally came to see me.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Branok admitted, sounding more human than usual.
I turned to face them in the doorway. Snowflakes were starting to fall, lodging in their golden hair. The look Branok shot me was furious; he didn’t like me seeing him vulnerable.
“I thought you and Lynx came to see your sister.”
Alina glanced at Lynx. “Lynx came. Branok would rather not see me at all, than see a girl that he can’t fix.”
“That’s not true.” Branok said. “I’ve been busy.”
“So where did you go when you left us?”
“I don’t answer to you, Honor,” he said.
Alina’s brows arched. “You see, my perfect brother is a liar.”
“To be fair, Branok is a professional liar,” Lynx defended his twin. “He’s just usually too good to get caught.”
Branok pulled a face. “I’m tired of all of you.”
The four of us went together down the stairs and into a drawing room. There was a fire burning brightly, casting shadows on the dark blue walls, and a veritable feast was spread across the low table between the plush velvet chairs. Chocolate trickled over the edges of an elaborate silver fondue fountain, and trays of cakes and candy were laid out invitingly.
“Were you expecting guests?” I asked.
“No, Father thinks that if he gives me every diversion, I’ll no longer resent my cage. As if little cakes and chocolate fondue and endless books could ever be enough to replace your freedom.”