**Chapter Nine: The Price of a Life**
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. Tails up.
I should have known then.
Chaos erupted. Shadows moved where shadows shouldn't. Steel flashed. Someone screamed—maybe Rook, maybe me.
Then I smelled it.
Lavender.
The scent hit me like a fist to the gut. Memories flooded back—Yvaine's nursery, the sachets she kept under her pillow, the way she'd hum while braiding poison into my hair.
I turned just in time to see the knife.
"Hello, sister."
Yvaine's blade pressed against my throat, her breath warm against my ear. She smelled exactly as she had that morning in the garden when she'd kissed my cheek and promised to stand by me at the altar.
Lavender.
And beneath it—bitter almonds.
I didn't think. I threw my head 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 me.
Yvaine laughed. The sound turned to a gurgle as Rook's bolt took her through the throat.
I watched my sister fall. Watched the light leave her eyes. Watched her fingers twitch toward the hidden pocket where she'd always kept candies for me.
The wound at my side burned.
Not from the knife.
From the poison smeared on its edge.
I knew the recipe—wolfsbane and honey. *My* signature blend. The one I'd taught her when we were girls.
The room tilted.
Kaelan caught me as my knees buckled.
Across the cavern, Tristan laughed.
And the last thing I saw before the darkness took me was Pip's coin—finally still, finally at peace—resting in a pool of his own blood.
Heads up