Page 159 of Twisted Ties

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When she collapses down on top of me, her skin is coated in sweat like mine and I hold her close and lick the salt from her neck.

“Okay?” I ask her, still catching my breath.

“Yes,” she says, snuggling into my chest. “Can you feel it?”

“Yes,” I say, the bond, shimmering like sunlight deep in my belly, my entire body thrumming with it, our magic curling around us like an embrace.

We lie, catching our breaths, basking in the sensation, moonlight falling through the open curtain.

I smooth damp hair from her face and stroke her cheeks, her jaw, her mouth.

“So, what were you thinking about earlier? How to shake off the pig?”

“No.” She tucks her hand between us and draws out the necklace she’s wearing, lifting a locket.

“It was my aunt’s. My mother’s before her.”

“It’s very pretty.”

“An old friend of my aunt’s just gave it to me. He was in the stadium. He came to find me.”

My spine stiffens. Will this girl ever learn? Is she trying to get herself killed? “What?”

“He’s a friend. It’s okay.”

“Remember the last time you went off with a friend?”

She swallows. “Yeah, well, this one had information about my mom.”

“Accurate information?” I say slowly, examining her face. “Real information?”

“I think so,” she says, “but I guess I can’t be sure.”

I eye the necklace in her hand. “Give it to me.”

“No! Why?”

“To check it’s not cursed.”

“Oh,” she squeals, lifting it over her head and passing it to me. “I don’t think it is though.”

“You know what a curse looks like?”

She chews her lip. “No.”

“Exactly, it doesn’t look like anything.”

She huffs and punches my shoulder.

I turn the locket over in my fingers, admiring the engraving on its shell, feeling for magic with dark intents on its surface. I can’t feel anything. “Have you opened it?”

“Yes,” she says, shoulders slumping. “There’s a photo inside. Of my parents and a baby. I’m guessing me.”

I look up at her face. Her eyes are full of sadness. “You have us now, Rhi.” I know what it’s like to lose your family. To have no one.

“It’s not that,” she says.

“What is it?”

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