Chapter 1

"Get your hands off me!"

"Keep walking, Ivy."

I knew that voice.

I turned as far as the guard allowed and saw my father beside the waiting carriage. One gloved hand rested on the silver wolf carved into the door.

Lord Alaric Vale. Head of House Vale.

My father.

He wasn't looking at the guard. He was looking at me.

"You promised me a trial," I said.

"I promised you nothing."

"You said the council would hear me. You said—"

"I said whatever I needed to get you into the carriage."

The second guard shoved me harder.

My knee struck a stone. Pain shot up my leg, but I caught myself before I fell.

"You dragged me out of my room at dawn," I snapped. "You chained me. Now you're taking me into the Forbidden Wilds. Don't stand there and pretend this is legal."

Father adjusted one black glove.

"It is legal. The council signed the order last night."

"Without seeing me?"

"They saw enough."

"They saw your seal."

His mouth twitched.

Not quite a smile.

I pulled against the guard's grip. He was bigger, but panic heated my bones until every movement felt sharp. I drove my heel into his boot.

He cursed and slammed my shoulder into the carriage.

"Try that again," he growled, "and I'll break your wrist."

"Try it," I shot back. "Then explain to my father why his favorite guard can't follow simple orders."

The guard glanced at Alaric.

This time, Father smiled.

Small. Cold. Almost proud.

"Don't damage her," he said. "The offering has to arrive alive."

The word hit harder than the shove.

Offering.

My throat closed.

"What did you call me?"

"You heard him," the second guard said. "Move."

I stared past them at the trees.

The Forbidden Wilds began where the road ended. No patrols went in. No hunters went in alone. People crossed that line screaming, if they came back at all.

My father had brought three armed men, a sealed order, and enough rope to tie down a horse.

He'd planned this.

"Father," I said, quieter now. "Why?"

He didn't answer.

The guard dragged me off the road. Roots caught my boots. Branches tore at my coat. The cuffs knocked together while I fought to stay upright.

"You can still stop this," I said. "Tell them the council was wrong. Tell them Silas forged the order. You know he did."

Father's steps slowed.

Silas was his adviser, his right hand, and the only man in the house who always looked at me like I was a locked door he wanted to break open.

"Don't bring Silas into this," Father said.

"Why not? Afraid he'll hear you admit he lied?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know he was in your study last night. I know he burned something in the fireplace. And I know the ashes had the council's red wax on them."

The guard yanked my chain.

"Enough."

"No. Not enough." I dug my heels into the dirt. "You want me to walk into those woods and die quietly, don't you? Then nobody asks why the spare daughter vanished. Nobody asks why your heir gets everything after I'm gone."

Father turned around.

His coat shifted in the wind between the trees. His face stayed calm, but his eyes went flat.

"You were never the heir."

I laughed once. It came out rough.

"I was born first."

"You were born inconvenient."

The guards went still.

For one ugly second, Father looked at me like I'd stopped being a person. Like I was a cracked cup he'd finally decided to throw away.

"You carry the Vale name," he said. "That's more than you deserve after what your blood has done to this family."

"My blood?"

"Don't make me explain it here."

"Explain it now."

"Ivy."

"You had twenty years to explain it. Twenty years while Silas whispered in your ear, while your wife called me cursed, while your precious son took my place at every council meeting." I stepped toward him as far as the chain allowed. "So explain it now."

His jaw tightened.

Then he came closer.

The guard released my arm just long enough for Father to seize my chin. His glove pressed beneath my jaw. Cedar smoke clung to his coat, mixed with the expensive soap he wore before council gatherings.

"You want the truth?" he asked.

I stared straight into his eyes.

"Try me."

"The truth is that no one is coming for you. Not your aunt. Not the council. Not the guards you bribed to read your letters. You're alone because everyone who could have helped you understood what you refused to accept."

"And what is that?"

His thumb pressed harder.

"That your life can buy this family another hundred years."

He let go.

I slapped him.

The crack rang through the trees.

The guard seized me again, but Father didn't move. He touched the red mark rising across his cheek.

"There," I said. "Now you can tell the council I fought back."

For a heartbeat, I thought he might hit me.

Instead, he smiled.

This one showed teeth.

"Take her to the marker."

My stomach dropped.

"No."

"You heard him," the guard said.

I twisted hard and drove my elbow into his ribs. He grunted. I kicked backward and caught another guard in the shin.

The third reached for me.

I ducked, spun, and slammed my forehead into his nose.

He staggered with a shout.

"Run!" Father barked.

The guards shoved me forward.

I hit the ground, rolled, and scrambled to my feet.

That was all I needed.

I ran.

Branches whipped my face. My shoulder screamed, but I kept moving. The chain between my wrists slapped against my coat. Behind me, boots crushed through the underbrush.

"Ivy! Stop!"

"Go to hell!"

"Shoot her if she crosses the ravine!"

A bolt tore through the branch beside my head.

I ducked and ran harder.

My lungs burned. The trees closed around me, blocking the daylight. I had no map, no weapon, and one hand locked to the other.

Still better than standing there while my father watched me die.

"There!" someone shouted. "She's heading east!"

I cut left.

The ground dropped without warning.

I slid down a muddy slope and slammed into a dead tree. The chain bit into my wrists. Pain flashed white.

I swallowed the cry trying to climb out of my throat.

Voices moved above me.

"Find her!"

"She can't have gone far!"

"The offering has to reach the stone before dark!"

I pressed my back to the tree and held my breath.

Offering.

Again.

They weren't taking me to prison.

They weren't taking me to trial.

They were delivering me.

A twig snapped behind me.

I spun.

A guard stood at the bottom of the slope with a crossbow aimed at my chest.

"Found you."

I threw myself sideways.

The bolt grazed my sleeve and buried itself in the tree. I grabbed the shaft and pulled. It came free with a splinter of wood.

The guard rushed me.

I swung the bolt like a knife. He blocked it with his forearm, caught my wrist, and drove me into the trunk.

The back of my head struck bark.

"You should've stayed on your knees," he said.

"You should've learned to aim."

He raised his hand.

Something under my cuff burned.

Not the iron.

Under it.

Heat raced from the cut on my wrist across my palm. I looked down.

Thin red marks glowed beneath my skin.

The guard stared.

"What the hell—"

The marks flashed.

The iron cuff split with a sharp crack.

The guard stumbled back.

I didn't wait to understand. I drove my knee into his stomach, grabbed his collar, and pulled him into the tree.

He dropped, gasping.

I ripped the broken cuff away. The second cuff stayed locked around my other hand, but the chain had snapped.

I could move.

The red lines on my palm faded.

"What did you do?" the guard wheezed.

I snatched his crossbow from the mud.

"I don't know."

"You shouldn't be able to do that."

"Join the club."

I ran.

This time, I moved faster.

Vines caught my ankles. Low branches scratched my cheeks. Somewhere deep in the Wilds, something howled.

The guards answered with nervous curses.

"Spread out!"

"She has a weapon!"

"Don't let her reach the old ruins!"

I slowed for half a step.

The old ruins.

So there was somewhere they didn't want me to go.

I shoved through a curtain of leaves and saw a narrow ravine ahead. A stone arch stood across it, half buried in moss. Symbols covered the sides.

I knew those marks.

I'd seen them carved into the basement wall beneath my father's study. The same marks Silas had refused to explain.

I stepped closer.

The symbols pulsed under the moss.

A branch cracked behind me.

I raised the crossbow.

"Put it down, Ivy."

My father's voice.

He emerged between the trees with Silas at his side.

Silas wore a dark coat fastened with silver clasps. His blond hair was neat. Not one leaf clung to him. Not one scratch marked his face.

He looked at the broken cuff in my hand.

Then at my palm.

His expression changed.

Barely.

But I saw it.

Fear.

"You knew this would happen," I said.

Silas took one step back.

Father's eyes snapped toward him.

"You said the binding would hold."

"It should have."

"Should have?"

I kept the crossbow trained on Silas.

"What binding?"

Silas lifted both hands.

"Ivy, don't make a mistake you can't undo."

"You brought me here to die. I think that mistake's already happened."

Father moved between us.

"Lower the weapon."

"Give me one reason."

"Because I can still spare you."

I laughed.

"You just admitted my life was payment."

"Payment for protection."

"Protection from what?"

The ground shuddered beneath my boots.

The stone arch gave a deep, grinding groan.

Silas went pale.

"The marker is waking," he whispered.

I aimed the crossbow at him.

"What marker?"

"Move away from it," Father ordered.

"You don't get to order me around anymore."

"Ivy, listen to me."

"No. You listen." My hands shook around the crossbow, but I didn't lower it. "You dragged me here in chains. You called me an offering. You watched your men hunt me through the trees. So say it clearly. What happens if I cross that arch?"

Nobody answered.

That silence told me enough.

I stepped backward onto the stone crossing.

The symbols lit beneath my boots.

Silas swore.

Father reached for me.

I fired.

The bolt slammed into the ground inches from his hand.

He froze.

"Try that again," I said, "and the next one goes through your shoulder."

"You won't shoot me."

"You really don't know me at all."

His face hardened.

"You cross that arch, and the Wilds will take you."

"Maybe they have better manners than you."

I backed farther away.

The symbols crawled up the stone like red veins. Heat returned to my palm, stronger this time. My fingers tightened around the crossbow.

Silas stared at my hand.

"It's starting," he whispered.

"What's starting?"

He looked at Father.

"You said she wouldn't wake it."

My father grabbed him by the collar.

"Fix it."

"I can't."

"You made the promise."

"I said her blood would open the seal. I never said it would obey us."

The arch groaned again.

A crack split the ground behind my heel.

I jumped forward onto the other side.

The crack snapped shut.

The guards shouted.

One of them raised his weapon.

"Don't!" Silas yelled.

The guard fired anyway.

The bolt crossed the arch.

The stone swallowed it.

A red flash knocked the guard backward. He struck a tree and went still.

Nobody moved.

I stared at the glowing arch.

"What the hell is this place?"

Father looked at me through the red-lit symbols.

For the first time since he'd shoved me toward the trees, he looked afraid.

"Go back," he said.

"No."

"Ivy, go back now."

"You don't get to be scared after you sold me."

The symbols flared beneath my feet.

Silas grabbed Father's arm.

"She's crossed the boundary."

Father's face drained of color.

I tightened my grip on the crossbow.

"What happens if I—"