Last Straw

Last Straw
Ingrid
“Thank you,” I mutter through gritted teeth to what must be the thousandth dignitary to reach our table.
“Yes, thank you,” Cirocco says in a voice so even I can barely hear it. Like it’s so dull, it slides right out of my ears.
“It is so wonderful you found love after such a tragedy.” The woman curtsies. I have no idea who she is, where she’s from. “I’m just honored to be a part of such a historic moment! Thank you, Luna Kaloni, for including us.”
“With all I’ve learned about how families can grow, how could I not, Lady Elyse?” She takes the woman’s hand and pats it. “Please, give all my best to Alpha Devan when you return home—though you’re of course welcome to stay until the wedding.”
Not a member of Astralis, I decide. The only game that’s been keeping me awake through this endless slog.
Kaloni, on the other hand, glows like she just got engaged. Like she didn’t shackle me to her brother just to keep an eye on me. Cirocco now sits between the two of us, his sweating hand in mine. On the tabletop, of course. How else will our legions of admirers see the three-banded bracelet that is apparently a betrothal custom in Lightning Cape? The gold, platinum, and copper bands, interlinked like they are, would be beautiful on any other day.
Today, they just look like a manacle.
“Oh, you’re too kind,” Lady Elyse flutes. “Love and peace to you all.” She curtsies again before stepping away—and the next noble takes her place.
My skin crawls. I knock back another glass of the celebratory sparkling wine Kaloni has requested. I would rather dance my way through a hundred balls with any partner of Candace’s choosing than keep sitting here. Mouthing a prayer for good luck, I lean over to Cirocco.
“I’m a little tired,” I say. “Could you get us out of here before every single person in the palace congratulates us?”
His cheeks pink, and he leans slightly away. Kaloni couldn’t have picked a less convincing husband for me if she tried. He hasn’t even looked at me since she made the announcement, even though he hasn’t objected once. Not when she asked him to stand, to take my hand, to give me this fucking shackle.
“I will try,” he whispers back as Kaloni accepts our congratulations happily.
Let her have them, if she wants them. Cirocco leans into his sister.
My thumbnail finds my mouth, and I chew on it. Whatever Tazi put on my head is its own kind of magic; I have a throbbing hangover of a headache, and every sound makes it worse, but I haven’t thrown up in a few hours, and all my thoughts are staying in order.
Which gives me enough space to worry about getting out of here and whether Joli warned Amval. She wouldn’t give me a straight answer. And even though Kaloni keeps alluding to a wedding soon enough that all these dignitaries should stay until it occurs, I doubt that will keep her distracted enough that she won’t have time to deal with one groom. I’m not even sure this dinner was enough trouble. I might already be too late.
No. I’d feel it. This mark has to be good for something. And Joli never showed up tonight, which seems like a sign.
Cirocco leans back with a frown. I don’t need him to tell me.
This is Kaloni’s show now, and we’re going to play our parts until she’s done with us.

When the river of visitors finally dries up, I’ve shredded my thumb to bleeding twice, and I’m about ready to crawl out of my skin. The wine sets my senses buzzing, but I’m not stupid enough to actually dull them with my guard, Recai, on one side and Kaloni within spitting distance.
Goddess, but I wish I were.
Kaloni stands. “Thank you all for such a beautiful evening. News about the wedding will be forthcoming. All here tonight are invited, and you may spread the news as widely as you wish. Sleep restfully.”
The hall fills with conversation and scraping chairs as the roomful of people I’ve decided I’m going to hate for the rest of my life finally trickle out. The other siblings mutter tired goodbyes—they were the first with their congratulations, mostly filled with confusion, and they don’t seem to know what to do now. In another life, they would have been my family, but now, they just look like more bars on my cage.
Kaloni looks at the two of us, flushed with excitement. “I am sorry for the surprise, brother, but when Ingrid admitted what she wanted to me, I simply couldn’t wait.”
“Of course,” Cirocco murmurs.
“And, as Ingrid suggested, you are going to get a start on your life together tonight.” She smiles at him and then looks at me with triumphant fire in her eyes. “You’ll be sharing quarters from now on. Ingrid, dear, your belongings have already been moved into Cirocco’s room.” She grabs my hand. “I had them take special care with that lute of yours. I wouldn’t want you to lose something you’ve worked so hard on.”
A few years ago, I begged one of the trainers in the castle to show me how to fight. Not with weapons or as a wolf, but with my hands. Kaloni’s words hit like the punch he landed square on my chin. Blood roars in my ears. Pain reaches spidery fingers through systems I didn’t think it could touch.
The very last shred of privacy, of control I had in this Goddess-forsaken palace, stripped away from me when I wasn’t even looking. Someone else moved my lute. Hell, if I’m reading her emphasis correctly, they may have broken it. It’s the one thing that was truly mine.
“Thank you,” Cirocco says dully.
Stop thanking her! I want to scream. I am done with the congratulations, with the apologies for the man I lost who isn’t dead yet, with the placid acceptance of everything happening to me.
But as if she can read the change in my eyes, Kaloni’s mouth tightens. “Recai will escort you to ensure these crowds don’t slow you down enough to steal your first night from you.”
I grit my teeth. The message is clear: I lost. I can either marry Cirocco, like I promised, or I can die.
A dark impulse in my chest dares me to push her. The room isn’t empty yet. If she kills me here, everyone will know what she is.
But she’s not stupid enough to do that.
“Good night.” I turn and march out of the room, dragging Cirocco behind me.
That rage carries me all the way upstairs, all the way to his door. I pause and look at him.
He frowns. “What?”
“Don’t you have a key?”
“It isn’t locked.” He shoves open the door easily.
Of course, it’s not. “Would you mind if we started locking it? It’s an old habit of mine from home.”
He grimaces, likely imagining the worst of what growing up with King Gavin could be. “I’ll have to find the key, but whatever makes you happy.”
I shut the door behind us, and the moment the latch clicks, his hand slips out of mine. I’m probably imagining the whisper of wind, but he certainly seems to dart away faster than otherwise possible. Like he can’t wait to escape me.
“My bedroom is through that door.” He points at an open archway. “Bathroom there.”
Aside from the lush decorations, his quarters look much like mine. The ones that used to be mine. My heart in my throat, I race into the bedroom.
My lute stands beside the massive, canopied bed, as beautiful as if it were always here. I pick it up, strum each string. It’s only slightly out of tune. Someone handled it—obviously, they did—but it’s intact.
What did Kaloni destroy?
Ice crawls over my skin as I turn to the wardrobe. Cirocco’s wardrobe, broader and squatter than the massive one I left behind. Numb legs carry me to it, numb fingers open it, and I don’t even know why. Of course, it’s not here. There’s no point in moving the mix of dresses and pants aside.
There is nothing behind them.
All my research, weeks of work and mapping, every note is gone.
I spend a heartbeat grateful I wasn’t stupid enough to write down anything about Amval.
Behind me, Cirocco clears his throat. “Does it all, uh, look all right?”
I let the clothes swing back into place. “I guess I’ll get used to it.”
“Right.” He glances around, his hands in his pockets. “I’m happy to sleep on the couch. I’ve done it before.”
“Why are you going along with this if you can barely look at me?” I ask tiredly.
He blows out a sharp breath. “I am sorry about that. You are…not the sort of person I thought I would spend my life with. I also have some things to get used to.”
Irritation bubbles, boils. Where is the Beta who told me that someday, I would tell him what I knew about Amval? Soft-spoken, but with a core of iron? Him, at least, I respected.
“Why agree at all?” I advance on him. “You could have said no. I know Kaloni didn’t warn you.”
He shrugs and stares at the floor. “Amval was my favorite brother. My best friend. I told you once that I knew the Goddess would pick out someone special for him, and I didn’t lie.”
“So… what? You’re marrying me because Kaloni said I wanted you to?” My head feels like it’s spinning on my shoulders. If Candace died tomorrow, I wouldn’t marry Hollis unless the world depended on it.
Another shrug. “For Amval’s memory.”
“And because Kaloni said so.”
He still won’t look at me, and I know I’ve struck home. Every single one of these siblings is so dependent on the others, I couldn’t pry them apart with a bar. They just trust. No matter how obvious the signs are.
After hours of politely not screaming and running away, I’m all out of politeness. I’m out of patience, out of composure, and out of fucking time.
“Forget his fucking memory,” I snap. “Somewhere else in this palace, Amval is either dying or running for his life because Kaloni is trying to murder him for a second time, and I’m tired of pretending that’s not true.”
Cirocco’s mouth falls open.