The Poison Bride

When the poison stopped my heart, the pain went with it. For three days, poison burned through my veins and crushed my ribs from the inside. Then there was nothing. I rose from the cold, hay-strewn floor and saw my body beneath me. I floated right through the heavy iron door of the dungeon. Hours earlier, I had beaten my fists raw against that door. No one had opened it. The great hearth in the living room was still burning. My parents, Marcus and Lyra, sat on the fur rug with Selene between them. Color had returned to my twin's face, and someone had tucked another blanket around her legs. Kaelen sat at her feet with one hand on her knee. The curse had lifted. Whatever it had taken from Selene was now in the body I had left downstairs. Lyra tucked a lock of hair behind Selene's ear. Across from them, Marcus let his shoulders drop. The four of them leaned toward the same patch of warmth. There had never been room for me on that rug. During family evenings, I carried in wood and cleared cups while they talked over my head. “I feel so much better.” Selene's words came out thin but clear. She glanced toward the hallway that led to the dungeons. “What about Elara? Is she truly all right down there? The poison was so painful.” Lyra’s hand paused. Her mouth tightened. “Don’t waste your thoughts on her, my love,” Lyra said. “She’s being dramatic to get sympathy. You know how she is.” *Dramatic. Looking for sympathy.* The words reached me even if nothing else could. I stood in front of them while my body cooled in the dungeon. My torn knuckles no longer hurt, but I still waited for Lyra to take the words back. Old habits had followed me through the door. Kaelen gave a dry laugh and tightened his fingers on Selene's knee. “Your sister has always been jealous of the attention you receive. Let her sulk. It will teach her a lesson about her place.” His thumb moved over the fabric at Selene's knee. The moon goddess had bound him to me, but he had never touched me with that kind of care. Whenever he looked at me, his mouth tightened. In front of the pack, his unawakened mate was a flaw with my face. “But Kaelen, she sounded like she was in so much pain.” Selene worried at the edge of the rug with one finger. “She’s tough enough,” my father cut in. “She always has been. She will endure it.” *Endure it.* They used that word whenever helping me would cost them something. Selene got the blankets. My pain waited. A stone bowl sat on the table beside Kaelen, filled with the murky green antidote. The plan was simple enough for them: lock me below, let my body pull the curse from Selene for three days, then bring down the antidote. Galton had warned them about the pain. My parents heard *painful* and looked straight at me. No one asked whether I would last the full three days. In the morning, Kaelen meant to carry the bowl downstairs. He would expect thanks for opening the cell he had ordered shut. I looked from the bowl to the four of them beside the fire. They had checked Selene. They had not checked me. He would take the heavy iron key, walk down the cold corridor, and tell me to learn my place. He could give his speech to the body on the hay. I wondered how long he would keep talking before he finally touched me.