Emily Rosewood’s Point of View.
The day the Well showed me there was still one more secret
The chamber was quiet now, save for the ragged sound of my breath and the ceaseless churning of the Well of Memory beneath my feet. My twin—no, my shadow-self—was still bound to the obsidian dais only moments ago, but the air crackled with the weight of secrets no longer hidden.
The Heir of Chains raised her head, golden eyes flickering with something between anguish and awe. “You know now, don’t you?” she whispered. “What they did. What they made us for.”
I didn’t answer. My fingers were clenched so tightly around the hilt of the blade that my knuckles had turned white. My heart thundered in my chest, and in my mind’s eye, flashes of memories—not my own—flickered like fireflies: the Seers gather
