Page 147 of Caging Darling

This time, I’m going for a different sort of magic entirely.

When I bring the blade down, aiming for the crook of my elbow, I don’t give myself enough time to think. Enough time to hesitate.

All I know is that I won’t go with him.

I was never strong enough to gnaw my own arm off. Would always overthink it. Talk myself out of it.

So I don’t let myself think. I just do.

I don’t even brace for the pain.

There’s a clashing sound, but no pain. Metal against glass.

Because between my blade and my arm is a hook.

No.

I glance up to find Astor before me, sorrow and regret and an apology in his eyes as with his other hand, he wrings the blade from my trembling hand.

“No,” I say, my mind racing, trying to make sense of which direction he came from, if he’s been hiding in the hedges the entire time, why he’s ruining my life again.

“Darling.”

“Don’t make me. Please don’t make me go back.”

“How, Darling,” Astor says, “do you intend to climb without your arm?”

“Astor, please,” I whisper. “There will be no climbing where I’m going.”

He smiles at me, but it’s almost a wince. “Do you trust me, Darling?”

CHAPTER 53

Before I have a chance to answer, in the shadows of the garden another shadow appears. It writhes through the tall grass, slipping through the soft petals of roses before taking shape before us. Hips sway, swathed in darkness, long hair formed of tendrils of ink.

I’d recognize her anywhere, even without the voice that haunts my childhood memories. The moment where my Mate was turned against me, the trajectory of my life nudged off course.

“Hello, darling,” she says.

I open my mouth to answer, but Astor steps between us. “Hello,” he answers back.

My mouth goes dry.Darling. She wasn’t speaking to me.

“You’ve kept me waiting,” she says, tapping her wrist as if there’s a wristwatch there. As if a Fate would need such a menial thing.

“Astor,” I breathe, “what did you do?”

Astor shakes his head softly, silencing me, but less with a command and more of a firm request.

“Astor?” My words choke me, securing a noose around my airway from the inside.

“Your Mate is a difficult man to find,” says the Middle Sister, swaying as she steps across the stone path toward us. The Nomad and Peter part ways for her, Peter rigid as Tink continues to struggle against his blade.

“Why would she want to find you?” I ask, dread writhing in my gut.

“You can speak to me directly, my dear,” says the Sister. “Unless you’re afraid, that is. Unless they’ve taken your voice, too. Unless you need permission.”

Bones rattled, I sidestep from behind Astor to face my nightmare.

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