Chapter 17 · The Bone Throne

"Ivy Gray." The voice came from the bone throne—soft, wrong, the kind of soft that made everyone shut up. "We've been waiting."

I couldn't answer. My legs were shaking so bad I had to lock my knees just to stay upright.

The blind man leaned forward. White hair fell past his shoulders like dirty snow. The throne didn't creak. Didn't make a sound.

Thirty hunters, maybe forty, all in deep green cloaks. Standing perfectly still around the ruined hall. The only thing moving was smoke from my wolf fire, still curling up from the blackened platform I'd just burned.

"Elder Thorne," Gareth Blake croaked. His voice cracked. "I—we didn't know you were coming. The trial was—"

"A waste of our time." Thorne tilted his head. Those empty white eyes landed right on me anyway. "The girl's mother already told us what we needed to know. Three years ago."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"Before she died." He smiled. I wished he hadn't. "She came to us. Begged us to protect you from your own bloodline. Said the curse was the only thing keeping you hidden."

No. That didn't make sense. Mom died in a car accident. Icy roads. Everyone said so.