Aslann Pov.

Her body was broken, and I hated that my hands trembled when I touched her.

Even in the warmth of the firelight, Petal shivered under the blanket I’d wrapped around her, her skin clammy with fever. Bruises painted her arms, lashes burned across her back, her wrists raw from rope. She had been carved open by cruelty.

And I knew that cruelty too well.

Because it wore my brothers’ faces.

I sat beside her, blade still stained with their blood. The taste of iron lingered in ...