MARIGOLD POV
Rain hammered the castle tiles like a million tiny fists, and the windows of my suite blurred the world into a smeared watercolor of gray and silver. The sound should have felt comforting — steady, predictable — except everything in me trembled with an edge of panic that no downpour could wash away.
Sugar was at the vanity, trying—halfheartedly—to pin a ridiculous bow into my hair. She gave up on the bow after the third failed attempt and tossed it aside with a sigh that was actually close to a sob. For once her usual sparkle had dulled to a hard, worried glint.
“You smell like wolf and regret,” she said, folding her arms and then glancing at me with a small, disbelieving smile. “Also like smoke. Do you two wrestle over the fireplace or something?”
I managed a sour laugh t
