Page 47 of A Fate of Wings

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Page 47 of A Fate of Wings

The friction we generated was delicious. Perhaps that was why we’d combusted in passion so well together.

“Raelin?” I called out. I’d expected her back to wash my body before dragging me out of the bath.

When she didn’t come rushing into the bathroom, my skin prickled in a warning. I sloshed out of the bath, wrapped a robe around my damp body, and walked into my bedroom. I jerked to a stop.

“Melanie? Where did Raelin go?”

My sister rose from the wingback chair that had always been her place to sit in my bedchambers. The same chair the Beast now sat in.

“She had something to attend for the ceremony.” Melanie brandished her hand at the bed. “Your dress is here.”

I walked over to the bed, my damp feet making a wet slapping noise on the floorboards. On the bed lay a stunning gown of gold fabric shining lustrously under the sparkle of the chandelier. My fingers itched to trace the intricate silver and gold stitched pattern on the bodice.

“It’s exquisite.” I traced one line of stitching, giving into the urge. Would the Beast do the same thing?

“Isn’t it? Let’s toast to your night before you put on the gown and risk spilling wine down it.”

I laughed. “Could you imagine the seamstress’s face if I did that?”

Melanie smirked. “She’d probably die of shock.”

I sat opposite her in the wingback chair as we had so many times before. The mirror image of my twin stared back at me. Melanie handed me the glass of wine sitting on the table, another glass already clutched in her hand.

“To your claiming.” She clinked her glass against mine.

I sipped the red wine from the crystal goblet.

She smiled and sipped her wine. Then she raised her glass again. “To your dress.”

“Oh, yes, that deserves a toast.” I clinked my glass to hers and sipped.

She sipped too. “What else should we toast to? I know, to your soon-to-be king.”

I eagerly clinked my glass to hers and drank deeper this time. “He is mighty fine. He’ll make a fabulous king for the sirens.”

“I think so too.” She grinned. “Is there a toast you’d like to make?”

“No, I think you covered them all.”

Melanie scowled.

“What?”

She slammed her glass on the table, shattering the delicate stem and spilling red wine across the timber table and onto the woolen rug underneath.

“It’s always about you. You’re the eldest. You’re the queen. It’s your claiming ceremony. Why can’t it ever be about me?”

“Melanie.” I fumbled for her hand, but I fell off the chair and landed on my knees. The room spun in a kaleidoscope of colors. “What? You’re my sister, I love you.”

“But it’s not enough.” She dropped to her knees in front of me. “I’m sorry, but this was the only way.”

“What are you talking about?” Along with my eyes seeing colors that weren’t there before the inside of my brain swirled in a pattern that made it hard to concentrate.

“I love you too. That’s why I’m doing this. It could have been worse. Much worse. At least you get to live this way.”

“Melanie?” I gasped.

Her mouth muttered a spell. Not something sirens usually dabbled in. Spells were witches’ territory, but they often sold their wares for the right price. Power hummed in the air as a circle formed. I struggled to scramble away from the swirling vortex, but the power sucked me in as though it called to the liquid inside my stomach. I spun and spun. My body flipped over and bounced against the sides of the vortex tunnel until bruises and cuts stung my flesh. I fell out the other side onto the cold, damp grass.




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