The Rise of Fortune and Fury (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 5)

But first things first.

I want to hug my sister.

Potential outcomes of this could include Zora running away from me, blasting me with magic, or potentially vomiting from the enormity of what’s facing her. I expect she’s not had much loving touch in her life, and this could freak her out.

Doesn’t matter.

I need it, and, for once, I’m taking something for myself.

I move past Amell, then step over the threshold into her house without an invitation. Zora takes a step backward, but I keep coming her way. It’s only because she backs into a table that she stops, and it’s only then that I’m able to wrap my arms around her. One over her shoulder and the other around her waist, and I pull her to me tight.

Her body is as stiff as plywood and she doesn’t return the embrace, but I don’t care. This is a gift—a miraculous, joyous gift I’ve been given. If I only have these few moments to hug her, I’m going to latch on as long as I can.

“I’ve missed you,” I murmur as I squeeze tighter.

“You don’t even know me to miss me,” she points out, but I note her tone is without the usual rancor when we’ve talked before.

“Hoping to change that,” I say. To give her some space and not scare her off, I reluctantly release her and step back.

Zora smooths down the tunic she’s wearing, which looks like brown burlap, cut fairly close to her actual body shape with crisscross leather straps that meet right at her sternum and give her figure even more definition. The tunic falls to her hips, and she has on pants that look almost like they could be denim but are also brown. There are holes at the knees, and they are faded at the thighs. I imagine it’s from repeated washings. Maybe it’s her only pair. The thought she has so little hurts my heart.

She’s wearing a pair of brown leather boots that look well cared for, and as I glance around her bare home, they might be her most expensive possession. I wonder how she earns these things.

Her house is small and consists of only one room. There’s a stove, a small counter, a kitchen table with chairs, a bed in the corner with a trunk at the end, and a door at the back, which I assume leads outside. I don’t see a bathroom, but it would be rude to ask how she bathes. I know she smelled good when I hugged her, and her hair is clean and shiny. Her complexion is a bit pale, but it’s perfectly clear. It’s very weird here, and I can’t wait to learn more about it.

“Zora,” Amell says in a deep, commanding voice. Forgetting there are other people here, I jump, startled. I turn to see that the four men have crowded into her house, Amell somehow tucking his wings in even closer. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

My gaze snaps back to Zora, wondering if she’ll cower from his anger because he is definitely pissed off at the knowledge she has a twin sister.

Instead, Zora lifts her chin, expression cool and detached. “Let’s not start playing the blame game when it comes to keeping secrets.”

Amell’s jaw tightens again, and I’m slightly fearful that she’s standing up to such a powerful Dark Fae. But he does no more than incline his head and take a step backward as if to say he’s removing himself from the conversation.

It’s with fascination that I see a flicker of remorse shadow Zora’s face, and she adds gently, “It wasn’t much of a secret, Amell. She contacted me a couple of times through some weird twin bond we have, but I pushed her away both times. I never thought she’d just show up here.”

That seems to appease Amell, who manages a curt nod of acceptance, but during the exchange, the important thing is that she kept our magical powers a secret. I mean, he may already know she has magic, but she didn’t rat me out—except about our ability to communicate telepathically—and that means something.

Zora turns to me, crossing her arms defensively. “Which begs the question… what are you doing here? I told you I didn’t want anything to do with you.”

“Technically,” I drawl with a sheepish look. “I asked if I could come to see you, but you never answered me.”

“That would have been a no,” she snaps.

“I took it as a maybe,” I reply.

“Who are they?” she asks, her gaze moving over to my crew near the door. All big, imposing men, but she’s not cowed in the slightest.

“My friends.” I decide on the simple explanation because I sense time is of the essence. I can explain my posse in more depth if she comes with me. “They journeyed here with me for protection.”