I clutched the knife tightly in my hand as I watched Ross walk into the house with Joy curled in his arms. The crest on the handle dug into my palm painfully.

  Joy's terrified response replayed in my mind. The sudden shift in her eyes from playful competition to abject horror. The sound that tore from her throat—not a scream, but something deeper, more primal. I'd never heard such a sound from her before. Not even when we'd found her in Marcelo's cellar

  Blood pounded behind my eyes. I wanted to drive the knife into something. Someone. Preferably Marcelo Levanth's throat.

  Lilach stood nearby, her lilac skin unusually pale as she stared after Ross. She kept her distance from us, an ashamed look on her face. Something hardened in my chest at the sight of her. This was her doing.

  Her shoulders hunched forward. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I didn't think—"

  "That's exactly it. You didn't think." My voice came out flat and cold. I opened my hand, showing the knife to her and Selwyn. The etched metal gleamed in the sunlight, mocking us. "I need to know everything about where this came from."

  Selwyn drew in a sharp breath beside me. I realized my brother hadn't yet seen the knife's handle with its distinctive crest—the same one burned into Joy's skin. His face lost color, the muscles in his throat working as he swallowed hard.

  None of us would ever forget that symbol.

  "Where did you get this knife?" My voice came out dangerously quiet.

  Lilach shifted her weight, eyes flicking toward the main house as if calculating whether she could escape this conversation. Her fingers twitched at her sides. "I found it in the ruins of Dario's tavern. In the ashes, about two weeks ago. While Joy was still healing at Ross's mansion."

  My eyebrows shot up. The knife suddenly felt heavier in my palm. "You've been tracking Marcelo all this time?"

  "Of course." Her chin lifted slightly, defiant. "Ross knows. He supports it."

  My neck burned hot. "And you didn't think to mention this when we all decided to bring Joy back to the estate?" My voice started low then climbed with each word, the control I fought for slipping away. "Because we thought Marcelo was gone."

  "That's why we came back here." Lilach crossed her arms over her chest. "Ross and I agreed—"

  "You and Ross agreed?" I cut in. The realization that decisions were being made without me, about Joy's safety no less, burned like acid in my gut. My free hand curled into a fist. "In my house. About her safety."

  Lilach didn't back down. "Marcelo's still in Mainport." She took a small step forward, her stance widening. "That's why Ross supported bringing Joy back here. The estate is safer. More controlled."

  I breathed in through my nose, fighting for composure. The urge to throw something, to break something, throbbed in my veins.

  "Lilach, have you actually seen Marcelo recently?"

  She nodded slowly. "At Arkwell Market." She paused, swallowing hard. "And again just yesterday, before we boarded the boat back here. He knows I'm following him."

  My blood ran cold. "What do you mean, he knows?"

  "He's playing games. Appearing and disappearing. I think he's trying to confuse anyone tracking him."

  The image of Marcelo smiling at Lilach made my stomach turn. All I could think of was Joy, how she'd looked when we found her in that cellar. The emptiness in her eyes. The cuts. The brand. That same smile had likely been the last thing she'd seen before he—

  I opened my mouth to speak then immediately thought better of it and sighed deeply. My teeth ground together as I forced myself to breathe. Yelling at Lilach wouldn't help any of us, especially if she and Ross were genuinely trying to find Marcelo.

  "It was a mistake to bring that knife anywhere near Joy." The blade felt contaminated in my hand, as if Marcelo's touch had poisoned the metal itself. "Especially to use it against her."

  "You have no idea what he did to her with that blade."

  The weight in Selwyn's quiet words hung in the air between us.

  My attention snapped to Selwyn. The certainty in his tone. The darkness in his eyes. Joy had been quiet about the details of her captivity with me, but the look on my brother's face—he knew. She had told him things she hadn't told me.

  I'd seen many sides of my brother over the years. The gentle scholar. The quiet businessman. The loyal sibling. But this—this was different. His face had transformed into something I barely recognized, all sharp angles and cold fury. His usual calm demeanor had cracked, revealing something dangerous beneath. It was the same darkness I'd glimpsed when we found Joy in Marcelo's cellar, when he'd left Dario pinned to the table in the burning tavern without a second thought.

  Something sharp and venomous coiled in my chest. I swallowed hard and forced my breathing to steady. This wasn't about me. But still—the thought of Joy confiding in Selwyn instead of me cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

  Selwyn held out his hand. "Can I see that?" His fingers were steady, but I could see the tension running through his arm, up to his shoulder.

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  I handed him the knife, watching as he turned it over carefully, examining the etched handle. His fingers traced the crest with barely contained disgust. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he stared at the symbol. Behind his eyes, I saw the same darkness I felt churning in my own chest.

  "I'll hold onto this." His fingers curled around the hilt, knuckles going white. For a moment, I thought he might drive it into the nearest tree. Instead, he tucked it carefully into his inner jacket pocket, the movement precise, almost reverent in its restraint. "I have an idea that might help Joy."

  "What kind of idea?"

  Selwyn's eyes met mine, and something passed between us—a shared understanding of what we both wanted to do with that knife. To the man who had wielded it.

  "It's better if I explain when she's ready. Just trust me."

  I nodded, then turned back to Lilach. My skin prickled with heat, but I drew in a slow breath through my nose and focused my gaze on what mattered. "Who else knows you're hunting Marcelo?"

  Lilach crossed her arms defensively, lifting her chin. "Corsa. He's better at tracking than I am. We can't just sit around and do nothing while that monster walks free."

  "Do you think that's what Joy is doing? Nothing?" My nostrils flared as I fought to control the heat in my voice.

  Her eyes averted. "I didn't say that."

  "But you thought it." The accusation hung between us.

  "Has anyone ever hurt you, Lilach? Really hurt you?"

  Selwyn's voice remained gentle, but there was steel beneath it. He took a step closer to Lilach, his movements deliberate. Despite being shorter than the Naerithi woman, something in his posture made him seem larger. Imposing.

  "Not just physically, but broken something inside you that you weren't sure would ever heal?"

  She shook her head silently, refusing to meet his eyes. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, and then she actually took a small step backward.

  "Then imagine if someone did."

  Selwyn continued, his voice unyielding. "Imagine someone taking something from you that you can never get back. Changing you forever."

  His voice dropped lower.

  "Imagine them holding you down." Another step forward. "Cutting into you." His fingers brushed against the pocket where he'd placed the knife. "Marking you as their property while you couldn't stop them."

  Lilach blanched, her lilac skin turning ashen.

  "Wouldn't you want to be the one to hurt them back?" Selwyn's voice turned almost conversational now. "What if someone took that chance away from you? Would you direct your anger at the person who stole your revenge?"

  Lilach's jaw tightened. A tendon flexed in her cheek. "I get it. I do. But Marcelo is dangerous, and Joy is—" She stopped herself.

  "Joy is what?" Heat flooded my face again.

  "Not ready." Lilach finished. "Not yet. She needs time to heal. I won't stop hunting him." Her eyes flicked between Selwyn and me, defiant. "Ross agrees with me. We're not letting him slip away again."

  I studied her. The stubborn set of her jaw, the fierce protectiveness in her eyes. I suddenly understood Lilach wasn't just hunting Marcelo out of some sense of justice—she was protecting her little family. Protecting Joy, Ross, all of us. I'd known Ross and Lilach were strategizing something, but I hadn't realized how deeply involved they already were.

  "If you go after him again, I want to know about it first." My tone left no room for argument. "No more secrets. Not in this household."

  Lilach hesitated, then nodded. "Corsa is watching a location in Mainport where we suspect he's staying. Not far from the dockyards."

  "How often has Corsa been watching this location?" I struggled to keep my voice level.

  "Every night. We've been taking turns since we confirmed Marcelo's movements."

  "And is there any sign of..." I hesitated, not wanting to speak the name aloud. "Any sign of Ellah?"

  She shook her head, expression grave. "Nothing yet. But we're still looking."

  Poor Ellah. Sometimes I forgot that in the midst of our concern for Joy, another Naerithi woman remained missing. Joy had risked everything trying to save her. Had suffered unimaginable torture because of it. And we still had no idea where Ellah was—or if she was even alive.

  My throat tightened at the thought of Marcelo lurking in Mainport. Planning. Waiting. The dockyards there were known for their labyrinthine warehouses, perfect for someone who wanted to disappear.

  Selwyn turned toward the house without another word. I watched him go, knowing my brother was heading straight to Joy. The thought sent a fresh wave of that twisted feeling through my chest. Not quite jealousy, not quite fear. Something murkier.

  I turned back to Lilach. "Was Ross with you when you found the knife in Dario's ashes?"

  "No." Her gaze drifted toward the house. "He was watching your perimeter."

  We fell silent. The sun had risen in the sky, the shadows disappearing from the training yard. In the distance, I could hear servants calling to each other as they prepared for the midday meal. Life continuing as normal while Joy lay broken inside the house. While Marcelo walked free.

  The rage I'd been containing threatened to spill over again. I wanted to break something, to hunt down Marcelo myself. To feel his pulse stop beneath my hands. But I couldn't leave Joy. Not now. Not when she needed me—us—the most.

  "Why are you looking at me like that?" Lilach asked suddenly.

  I realized I had been staring, lost in my dark thoughts. "You risk a lot to hunt Marcelo."

  "So would you." No question in her voice.

  The truth of her statement hit like a physical blow. If I could leave Joy's side, I would be hunting Marcelo myself. The thought of finding him, of making him pay for each mark on Joy's body, for the haunted look in her eyes—it called to something primal in me.

  "I would make it slow." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

  A simple nod. "Good."

  The simple acknowledgment passed between us. No judgment. No hesitation. Just understanding.

  "It must be very hard for her to love two people." Lilach's words dropped abruptly into the quiet.

  My thoughts stuttered to a halt. The matter-of-fact way she stated it—as if Joy's feelings for both me and Selwyn were obvious, undeniable. Heat crawled up my neck, but not from anger this time.

  "What makes you think she loves either of us?" The words came out sharper than I'd intended.

  Lilach gave me a look that suggested I was being deliberately obtuse. "Anyone with eyes can see it." She looked toward the house where Selwyn had disappeared. "She needs you both, in different ways. The question is whether you two can handle it."

  Before I could form a response, she turned and walked toward the house, leaving me alone with thoughts I'd been carefully avoiding. Joy's divided attention between me and Selwyn, the way she sought comfort from each of us differently. The night she'd spent in my bed, her body curled against mine. The intimacy I'd glimpsed between her and my brother.

  "I suppose it must be difficult," I murmured to myself.