Page 84 of The Girl in the Forest

“It’s possible she wasn’t even there,” I agreed. “Because at the end, when the illusion shattered, I thought she was a projection, and I’m not even sure if she intended to do it, or if I somehow pulled her into visibility.”

Mace’s face hardened as he glanced at Grayson, and something flared between them. “It could have been an emotional reaction,” he said. “A moment of weakness, when her control slips and she’s pulled into whatever illusion she’s manipulating. She might not even realize Noa can see and hear her.”

“That might explain the Alpen’s attack.” Fallon twisted her coffee mug and shot a glance toward Grayson. “If Lec Rus knew what the witches were ranting about, then learned they were dead, he might have panicked. Started hunting girls like Noa.”

Beware the one who strikes a king without a queen.

But there was more to that rant. One would open the door. The other would reap the vengeance.

I played Devil’s Advocate and built a case against myself.

“What if my mother inadvertently opened the door, and I’m here for the vengeance?”

Fallon glared. Mace smirked while his eyes brightened. Grayson stroked his thumb against my palm, but allowed me to work through my thoughts.

“What if my mom found a way to read that book?” I looked at everyone seated at the table, studying the expressions they didn’t try to hide. Interest from Mace. Worry from Fallon. Grayson’s friends—but my friends, too, I realized.

“We’ve assumed we can break blood magic with a power balance.” My voice steadied. “Maybe it takes two failles, but that could mean any two failles. Even a child who hasn’t yet changed.”

My hesitation wasn’t from doubt; I waited for Grayson—for the velvety thread of encouragement he sent through our bond.

“I remember a book. My mother asked me to help her hold it. I wanted her to read the story out loud, but after a few minutes, she jerked the book away and told me never to touch it again.”

Mace challenged me first, as I knew he would. As I wanted him to challenge me. “It could have been any book.”

“True. But my stepfather hid a book, and my mother was so desperate to find it, she dug up the backyard. Then Aine told me she’d given a book to my mom with the hope she could read it with me. The same book my mom refused to return to Aine. She hid it in the one place Aine said she couldn’t go, and in a pocket only I could find. When I touched the book, it glued itself to my hand. I thought it recognized me.”

“Why would your mother hide a book only you could find, after she’d told you to never touch it again?” Mace asked.

I held his steady gaze. “That’s a curiosity, isn’t it?”

He said nothing, and my mouth dried enough to need coffee. Carefully, I resettled the mug.

“I remember thinking it was a picture book, and I was mad because there were no pictures. Now I’m wondering if my mom read something in that book that worried her, because she spent her life protecting me. She told me never to return to Sentinel Falls, or be around wolves. And she was adamant when she said I shouldn’t believe in fate.”

“You think she read some prophesy relating to you?”

“What else could it be? Maybe it was a prophesy she wanted me to know after all. Something I’d need to know if I ever came back. She couldn’t stop the wolves, or the nymphs, or even vampires—if they discovered where I was and came after me. Maybe it was her last defense. A way to help me if I discovered what I—what I’m capable of doing.”

Mace leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “What are you capable of doing?”

I just looked at him.

He smirked. “Why are you determined to make yourself the enemy here?”

I shook my head. “Not the enemy. But everything revolves around the book. Aine’s reaction. My mother. The scream, and my faille senses reacting to it. The witches said Grayson only wanted me for the book, and I shouldn’t let him have it or help him read it. They said he couldn’t read it on his own because of a spell blocking the kings and all those descended from them.”

I glanced at Fallon to see how she was reacting. But the news that Grayson was a dread lord generated no reaction.

“The hatred was visceral,” I said. “The images on the cave wall were horrific, designed to condemn the dread lords. The detail… maybe seers could see that far back into the past. But it wasn’t witches casting that illusion. When I finally saw the woman’s face—the woman in the shadows—she was beautiful, ageless. Hair as dark as night.”

I breathed in, looked at Grayson.

“What is it, Bedisa?” he asked through the bond.

I answered out loud, so everyone could hear. “She had a streak as silver as mine.”

“She’s a faille,” Mace murmured. “And that’s why you hear her in your head. There must be a bond between failles similar to the wolf bond.”

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