“Good to see you up,” I finally say, and then lie, “You look well.”

“I’m feeling better,” Tamra offers in a voice that sounds friendly, but distant. I want to close that distance. Sit down next to her and remind her of what we are to each other. “Nidia is taking excellent care of me.”

“We knew she would,” Cassian volunteers, and I want to strike him. We?

I bite back the stinging retort that we would have taken good care of her, too. Mom and me. We’ve always looked out for each other . . . except the pride won’t let us anymore. I’m not sure who they consider the worse influence: me or Mom. I stare at the moonlight pale version of my sister and wonder whether she even wants to be with us. Does she miss us? Does she want to remain here?

“You look good, too, Jacinda,” Tamra adds, and I know she’s lying. She’s never been a fan of my T-shirt and jeans wardrobe. And the rest of me . . . I gave myself a cursory inspection as I brushed my teeth this morning. The shadows under my eyes looked like bruises, and even my lips seemed pale, colorless. Funny that I should look my worst here, in the cool mountains that have always revitalized me so much, in the mists and mountains I thought I needed to keep my draki alive.

“Thanks,” I say.

“I’m starting training tomorrow.” Tamra props herself up a little higher on the couch cushions. “With Nidia and Keane.”

I nod. Keane is the pride’s flight master. No draki takes to the sky without going through the ropes with him first.

“I bet you’re looking forward to that.” And I smile, truly happy that she’ll know what it’s like to fly. She’ll taste wind and sky and clouds. I know how wonderful it is and now so will she. We’ll have that in common at last. She’ll understand what I’ve been talking about all this time—she’ll understand my need to keep my draki alive. It’s a strange concept. I can hardly wrap my head around it as I stare at the stranger my sister has become. Tamra. Flying. Tamra finally understanding why I can’t give it up. Why I can’t let my draki wither away.

Nidia speaks then, and her words are like a surge of cold wind. “I knew both of you were destined for great things. You were such special children . . . and twins are so rare among our kind.”

My gaze swings to her as she lowers herself down on the window seat, picking up her discarded knitting. Needles click clack as she smiles and shakes her head, clearly pleased with herself. “A fire-breather and a shader.” Beams of mote-filled light stream through the window at her back. Her silvery hair glints as if diamonds were buried in the dense mass.

“I still can’t believe it,” Tamra marvels, looking dazed and a little giddy.

“Believe it,” Cassian says, squeezing her shoulder.

I stare at his large hand, his blunt-tipped fingers on her delicate shoulder, and I can’t help wondering whether he’s ever even touched her before. I know he hasn’t in the last five years. I suppose he did before then. When we were children and you just liked who you liked and played games together.

Things were simple then. Before I manifested and Tamra didn’t. Before she became a defunct draki in the eyes of the pride.

I draw a deep breath and tell myself that it’s okay for him to touch her. It doesn’t mean anything, and even if it did, even if Tamra ends up with Cassian, is that so bad? She’ll get what—who—she’s always wanted. I can’t begrudge her that happiness. Not when she’s had so little before now.

And it wouldn’t mean I’d end up with Corbin. No matter what he said. I could still be the pride’s fire-breather without bonding with someone. Corbin was wrong about that.

Moistening my lips, I say, “I owe you a big thank-you, Tamra.”

She blinks her frosty eyes. “For what?”

“For saving us back in Chaparral.” For saving me here, I think but don’t say. Without her, the pride would probably have unleashed its full wrath on me.

“You’re thanking me? That’s unexpected. I didn’t think you would appreciate me shading Will’s memory.”

I inhale a shallow breath. “You did what needed to be done. I know that.”

“Yeah. I did.”

I wince, certain she’s implying that I didn’t. I didn’t do what I should have. I manifested before hunters to rescue Will. She wouldn’t condone me ever doing that.

I glance uneasily at Nidia by the window. She focuses on her knitting, but I’m not so foolish to think she’s not absorbing every word, spoken and unspoken.

As though she wants to make sure I catch her meaning, Tamra asks, “But you didn’t, did you? You didn’t do what you should have.”

“Tamra,” Cassian says warningly. As though he’s trying to protect me. From my own sister. The irony isn’t lost on me that I spent years protecting Tamra from him. Even if he didn’t know it, he hurt her constantly with his cold indifference.

“Stay out of this,” I growl.

“Cassian, come.” With a jerk of her head, Nidia rises and motions to the door.

Cassian nods. Together, they step outside, leaving us alone to talk.

I inch closer to the couch. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

Her features soften. “Neither do I.”

“So,” I say lamely, sitting across from her. “How’s it going? How are you handling all of . . . this?”

“Pretty good.” She glances out the window at air that grows murkier with every moment. After a minute she looks back at me with her frosty gaze. “Come with us tonight. We’ve never flown together. I want you there.”

“Sure,” I agree. Flying always revives my spirit, gives me strength. I could use that now. “When does Nidia start training you?”

“Actually we’ve already begun,” she says with a laugh. “Which is basically her talking a lot and giving an occasional demonstration. She says I’ll get to try it again soon.”

I couldn’t ask for a better lead-in.

“About that, how much damage do you think you did that night?”

She blinks those crystalline eyes, looking so otherworldly right then. Like those eyes are looking at me through some kind of veil while the real Tamra hides beneath, buried away.

“Damage?”

I wince. Too late, I realize I should have chosen a better word. A nicer word. Her talent is a gift. Each draki talent is a gift. That’s what we’re taught since primary school anyway. Even talents best geared to create harm. Like fire-breathers.

She’s a shader. A draki that doesn’t have to harm anyone to protect and save lives. I should be so lucky.

I quickly try to recover. “I mean do you know the extent of”—I wave a hand—“of what you did that night?”

She looks at me intently with her ghost eyes, making me squirm.

“You cleared their memories, but do you know how far back you erased?” I pluck at the edge of a pillow. “Do you have any idea—”

“This is about Will, isn’t it?” She drags a hand through her silvery hair. “You want to know how much of you I cleared from his memories, is that it?”

The sound of her voice is tinny in my ears and makes me nervous . . . like a wire that’s about to snap and might catch me in the face. I shake my head, knowing instinctively that I don’t want to hear whatever she’s about to say. “N-no—”

“You haven’t let any of it go, have you?” she asks evenly, but the words feel as though she yells them. “You’re still hung up on him.”

“No,” I deny, but my voice sounds small and weak. Even I can’t convince me. “That’s not true. I know I have to let him go, but it’s not just a switch I can flip off. I wish it were.”

She sighs. “I guess I can understand that. I pined long enough for someone I stood no chance of winning.” She means Cassian, of course. “But you can’t ever forget that he’s a human. You can’t keep going on loving a guy who hunts our kind.”

A sharp gasp rips the air behind me. Jumping to my feet, I spin, spotting Az and Miram, Cassian’s sister, in the open doorway.

Nidia stands behind them, her expression shocked and regretful. “Tamra, you have more . . . visitors,” she says lamely.

Cassian is there, too, towering over them all. The look in his eyes makes me feel foolish and pathetic. I take a long-suffering blink, wishing suddenly I’d told Az about Will rather than have her walk in on the truth like this. Opening my eyes again and seeing her face, I feel my stomach sink.

I make a move toward her.

“Is it true?” she demands, looking only at me. “You fell for a hunter? One of those . . . dogs that chased us through the forest? Tried to kill us?”

I can see in her eyes that the memory still haunts her, and I know with a sick twist of my heart that she’ll never believe that Will is anything but an animal.

“Please, Az. Let me explain. Will’s not—”

“This is priceless,” Miram cuts in with relish.

“Miram,” Cassian rebukes his sister. She just shrugs.

Az drops the basket she’s carrying. Fruit and muffins tumble to the floor as she turns and flees.

“Az,” I whisper, the look of betrayal on her face permanently etched in my mind. Another guilty memory.

Miram remains. With a grin spreading across her face, she’s the most animated I’ve ever seen her. Visiocrypters don’t show much emotion. They don’t show much of anything. That’s part of their nature. Bland, sandy-colored hair with eyes to match. They’re nondescript, equipped to blend into the background.

“Oh, this is good,” she says. “I can’t wait to tell everyone.”

“Miram,” Cassian says sharply, but she’s already gone.

She moves so fast, I’m not sure she didn’t just fade out into invisibility.

Cassian moves to my side and looks down at me. “I’ll talk to her.”

For a moment, I let myself soak up his nearness and take comfort from the reassuring words. Then, I catch myself and give my head a small shake. Even if Cassian means that, I can’t expect him to rein in his younger sister. Still, as I watch him take long strides out the door, I can’t help hoping he can stop her from spreading what Cassian himself had tried to keep from the pride. For my sake. But I doubt he can.

Miram was never a fan of mine. Combine that with her love for gossip and this news is probably already halfway across the township. And she’s a visiocrypter. She can make herself invisible and hide her very presence whenever the mood strikes. As much as I hate to stereotype, such draki are deceptive by nature.

What Cassian sought to spare me from is unavoidable. Everyone will know that the pride’s fire-breather gave her heart to a hunter. I might be pardoned and spared a wing-clipping, but I’ll never be forgiven, never be viewed as brethren again.

Panic surges in my chest as I listen to Cassian’s tread fade away outside. I hurry to the door and look after him until he disappears into the misty morning.

Turning back around, I face Nidia’s pitying stare. When did I become the pitiable one? That’s something new. Evidently, I’m not to be envied anymore.

Tamra looks down into her mug, unable to meet my gaze. The nervous fidgeting of her hands tells me she’s sorry she said what she did—that Az and Miram overheard.

“Hey.” I force my voice to sound normal, even cheerful. “Don’t look so sad.”

She lifts her gaze. Her eyes glisten like ice. “I’m so sorry, Jacinda. For what I said . . . that they overheard . . .”

I move, drop down beside her on the couch and hug her. “It’s not your fault.” I stroke her back in soothing circles. “None of this is your fault.”