These Hollow Vows (These Hollow Vows 1)

I feel like someone’s squeezed all the air out of me and I’m held in a grip so tight I can’t fill my lungs. I didn’t realize I was hoping that Cassia was lying. I didn’t realize I was . . . hoping.

Madame V waves a hand, as if this is all as trivial as who will prepare dinner, not about my sister’s life. “Your sister will be just fine in Faerie. I’m sure she’ll charm everyone there, just like she did here.”

“You’ve made her a slave. They’ll work her to death or torture her for their own amusement . . . or . . .” I can’t even say the rest, can’t begin to enumerate the other horrific possibilities. This isn’t happening.

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s really the best future she could ask for, considering the hole you two have dug for yourselves. What was she going to do? Spend her life scrubbing floors like you? Maybe sell herself to men looking for cheap pleasure?”

“You should’ve warned me. I would’ve—”

“What? Stolen the balance of your debt?” The arch of her brow suggests that she knows all my secrets. “Even you couldn’t manage that, Abriella. Frankly, you’re lucky I’ve looked the other way all these years. I could have turned you in for your illegal deeds.”

“But you didn’t. You took the money, no matter how I got it. You’ve made thousands every month off that unfair contract, and you sold her anyway.” My body burns with anger, my blood boiling with rage that threatens to spill over.

“Come now. You’re being ridiculous. They’ll ply her with faerie wine and it will all seem like a dream.”

I feel like I’m vibrating. I want to tear off her jewelry and turn it to dust with my bare hands. I want to rage and scream until I wake up and learn this was all a terrible nightmare.

“Jasalyn’s sacrifice released you from your debt today—be glad.”

“Where?” I demand. “Where did they take her?” I’ll find her. I’ll search their entire godsforsaken realm to get my sister back.

“Maybe she’ll fall in love with a faerie lord,” she says, ignoring my question. “Maybe she’ll live happily ever after, like in those stories your mother always liked to tell.” Disgust drips from every one of her words. I don’t want any part of me to be like Madame Vivias. But this we share—her disgust, her judgment. I hate my mother for abandoning us, for leaving us with her brother just so she could be closer to her faerie lover. For sentencing us to a life that led to this.

“If Jas dies, I hope her death haunts your every waking moment,” I whisper. “If she’s hurt, I pray that fortune cuts you twice as deep.”

“Now you sound like one of them, throwing curses around on good people.”

“Good people don’t sell girls to the fae.”

She cackles. “Have you seen the world we live in, Abriella? Have you seen the realities I’ve saved you from by keeping you under this roof? Maybe your sister is the lucky one. Maybe you should be wishing you could’ve gone in her place.” She waves toward the door. “Now, out. Go enjoy your freedom. But unless you want to sign a rental contract, you’ll need to find a new place to sleep, effective immediately.”

I wouldn’t stay here another night if she paid me, but I don’t bother responding. I pull her office door shut and rush down the stairs to the cellar.

Our bedroom looks just as it always does. Jas’s sewing kit sits open against the wall. She must have been working when Bakken took her. The muslin mockup of my dress is folded on the foot of the bed, and I clutch it to my chest, ignoring the stinging pinch of the pins poking me from the fabric.

I crawl on the bed and curl onto my side. I’m too tired to cry, too stunned, but my eyes burn. She’s really gone.

The door clicks, hinges creaking as it swings open, then whooshes shut again. I feel his presence without having to look. The mattress shifts as Sebastian sinks onto the bed, lying on his side to face me. He takes my chin in his hand, tipping my face up so I meet his eyes. “Hey . . .” He wipes my tears away with his thumb. “It’s true, then?”

I can only stare at him—at those eyes like the stormy sea, at the wrinkle between his brows that reveals more of his worry and fear than his words likely will.

“Brie?”

“It’s true.” I swallow, trying to keep my voice steady. “Madame V sold her.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and mutters a curse. “Another year,” he whispers, his jaw hardening. “Another year, and I would’ve been able to free you myself.”

“This isn’t on you, Bash. You can’t blame yourself for what Madame V did.”