House of Striking Oaths (The Kingdom of Crows Book 3) by Olivia Wildenstein

Author:Olivia Wildenstein [Wildenstein, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WildStone Publishing
Published: 2023-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Forty-Three

Gabriele is still—I’m about to say alive but switch it out for—here?

He’s proven himself a worthy ally. You were right to trust him.

My heart rises in time with Lore’s great body. Dante tried to make me believe he’d planted him in the Sky Kingdom to harm you.

What that louse wouldn’t say to save face.

I swallow, hating my gullibility. Will you keep Justus in a cell?

Perhaps not a cell, but a room on a higher floor. One he cannot leave at his guise.

Lore slips through the hatch of the Market Tavern, and my whirring mind comes to a screeching halt because, although the space is relatively empty, two people stand beside the windows overlooking the esplanade.

Sybille and Phoebus spin around. The instant my feet touch stone, my friends break into a jog and slam into me, curling their arms around my chilled body in the warmest embrace.

The honking sound of a sob spreads a grin over my lips.

Phoebus drives his shoulders into his wet eyes. “The dying-goose noise came from the other one,” he murmurs, his voice shot through with emotion.

Sybille looses another brassy sob, ebony cheeks reflective with tears. I laugh at her uncharacteristic effusiveness, which earns me a smack in the boob.

“Ow.” I rub at my abused chest. “What was that for?”

Phoebus tucks me against him, propping his smooth chin atop my head. “Mattia and Reid have been training her at swordfight. She’s become unbearably violent.”

Syb rolls her gray eyes that shine the same silvery pewter as the sky above. “Don’t you dare vanish again without telling anyone, and by anyone I mean Pheebs and me!” After a quick glance to the right, she adds, “And Lorcan. Obviously.”

I flatten my hand over my heart. “Never again, Syb. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Have you, Picolina?” Phoebus’s square chin digs into my skull as he speaks. “Because you’re rather mediocre at listening to the voice of reason.” He moves his mouth to my ear. “Even when said voice shouts reason directly into your ear.”

I start to roll my eyes when Syb yanks my hand off my chest and looks at the entwined rings marring my palm. “What the underworld is that?”

On a sigh, I say, “The mark of a blood-bind.”

Lorcan’s gossamer shape coils closer, licking across my right shoulder and the ridge of my collarbone, golden eyes fastened to the loathed mark.

“A what now?” Syb asks.

“It’s an ancient Shabbin ritual. Meriam magicked the Regio bloodline a long time ago. The spell made them immune to our magic, but it also gave them our magic.”

Sybille’s eyes flare so wide the irises resemble pebbles tossed into foam.

“The only way she found to keep Costa from realizing the amount of power she’d given him was using a blood-bind, which is a Shabbin ritual that enables—”

“Husbandstomakeuseoftheirwifesmagic.” There’s no pause between Phoebus’s words. “Lazarus told me about it.”

Lore’s shadows stiffen, which makes my body go stiff in turn. Husbands?

Merda. “No. It’s not—like that.” I extricate myself from Phoebus’s arms just as my mate streaks toward the heart of the market where dozens of Crows are shifting into skin.

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