The arrow hit Pip like a thief in the night, stealing his breath, his balance, that damn lucky coin he was always flipping. It clattered to the stone floor, spinning wildly before coming to rest at my feet. Tales up. She should have known then. Chaos erupted. Shadows moved where shadows shouldn't. Steel flashed. Someone screamed, maybe Rook, maybe her ,Then she smelled it.
Lavender.
The scent hit her like a fist to the gut. Memories flooded backYvaine's nursery, the sachets she kept under her pillow, the way she'd hum while braiding poison into my hair. She turned just in time to see the knife."Hello, sister." Yvaine's blade pressed against here throat, her breath warm against her ear. She smelled exactly as she had that morning in the garden when she'd kissed her cheek and promised to stand by her at the altar. Lavender. And beneath it,bitter almonds.
She didn't think. She threw herhead back hard enough to feel cartilage crunch. Yvaine shrieked, but her grip only tightened."Predictable," she hissed. The knife bit deeper. Then a hand closed around her wrist. Kaelan. Blood dripped from a gash above his brow, but his grip was iron, "Run," he told her.Yvaine laughed. The sound turned to a gurgle as Rook's bolt took her through the throat. She watched her sister fall. Watched the light leave her eyes. Watched her fingers twitch toward the hidden pocket where she'd always kept candies for her, The wound at her side burned. Not from the knife.
From the poison smeared on its edge.
She knew the recipe, wolfsbane and honey. Her signature blend. The one she had taught her when they were girls. The room tilted. Kaelan caught her as her knees buckled.
Across the cavern, Tristan laughed. And the last thing shr saw before the darkness took her was Pip's coin,finally still, finally at peace, resting in a pool of his own blood.
Heads up