chapter 1

Oh fuck I didn't mean to do that! I didn't mean to kill him. I was not meant to kill him. Not this fucking time. How in the world am I going to explain this one? Freya is going to have my fucking head in for this when she finds out. If she finds out. Why did I have to kill him am I seriously that stupid. I stare in disbelief at my shaking, blood-coated hands and at my blood-splattered green hexagonal moss agate ring, now smudged red with dark veins threading through the gem. I only needed that book not to kill a lord.

My focus shifts from my shaking hands to the dead body of the king's brother lying dead, leaking his foul guts out on the expensive freyen rug. Do I run or hide the body? If I run I could probably make it . Panic flushes from my system switching back to survival and training mode. My eyes dart round the old study, scanning for the quickest escape route that won't include a snapped back. Wall, wall, another overly decorated wall, boring bookcase, guards coming up the stairs, window, desk. Window. I'm going to have to jump, ain't I? Shit.

"Lord Everdale, are you alright? We thought we heard a scream?"

I freeze, eyes going wide. Fuckety fuck, I'd forgotten about the stupid guards. I move fast or well as fast as I can go without making a sound in heavy combat boots. I grab the black dragon skin bound book on the red velvet rocking chair. I begin to head for the window throwing one more glance at the old man; it truly was a nice rug. What a shame, before crouching low and sliding the heavy angel-glass windows open stepping out into the dreadful rain.

Standing on the narrow stone ledge, side-stepping over a 60ft drop was not on my to-do list. Luckily I got the book tucked safely under my black jacket out of the icy cold chill of rain and wind. Now how in the entire goddamn world am I meant to get down?

Hesitantly I turn my head trying to remain a grip on the crumbling cliff stone, my hands stinging from the cold and caked red with drying blood. I'm shivering violently. Stupid autumn weather. My green eyes finally lock onto a way down: there's a row of middle class houses, probably belonging to some vampire or possibly fae. I lower myself as far down as possible on the grey stone. Okay it's not too far, just a few meters. Simple, right?

Dragging in a sharp inhale of cold air, I exhale slowly. I haven't jumped across rooftops in quite a while. My boots leave the ground and for a split second I'm weightless, drifting through the air. And totally going to miss the fucking rooftop. Crap. Gravity starts to regain control. And I feel a heavy sense of dread. My arms flail trying to catch myself or grab hold of the blue-roofed building, definitely belongs to a fae. My hands now red raw catch onto a protruding brick. My breath coming super fast. Thank all the fucking gods. I pull myself up, muscles burning. As I regain my footing I carefully check if I still have the book. I do. Thank Kaydence for that. The moon shines down through the dark clouds. Suddenly an orchestra of thousands of wolves howls in response to the silver glow, while my dark brown waves are annoyingly stuck to my face. by a mix of rain and sweat. Seriously I need to get a hair cut.

Leather combat boots pound against the roof tiles as I start to pick up my pace. I must say running across rooftops truly does liven up your evening. I slow down now out of the immediate danger zone. I glance around, assessing where I am: Ash Town, House 52, probably full of lower-class witches or merfolk.

I drop off the rooftop into the street, dimly lit by the golden glow of flame lamps lining the path. The rain had luckily receded into a slow drizzle. My house was only 3 streets away. I was going to be fine. I shove my hands into my combat trouser pockets trying to look as casual as possible.

"Come on, Jenson, she came this way!" I feel my heart stop. It was one of the palace guards I duck swiftly behind a house into a dark dead end alleyway. How did they find me? I step back until my back hits the wet stone wall, my heart pounding against my ribs.

The footsteps came closer. I held my breath. The guard Jenson stops, turning around. He had navy blue hair and green eyes. Merfolk. Interesting. The palace doesn't normally hire lower class citizens. Jenson turns away.

"James, she went this way!"

Holy fuckity fuck, James as in Prince James? As in the son of the guy I just killed.

I look at the entrance to the alleyway, waiting to see the prince for him to come and execute me and burn my moss green ring. But he doesn't. He just runs past.

I'd never seen the prince before, only ever heard rumours saying he's single, blond, and has these amazing blue eyes. Damn if only I weren't an assassin by nature I might have found that hot.

As soon as I'm sure they're gone I step out and run down the street, taking a sharp right at Charlock Lane then a left at Watkinds Street. And then there was my grand house. Polished white and black marble and stone with intricate hand-carved embellishment, 4 stories and 3 carriages. Ravenstone Mansion. Perfect.

As I walk towards the door, plotting and planning how to explain my midnight absences, the heavy wooden double doors swing open. I wince, turning my head away, expecting to hear the furious voice of my mum.

"Lyra Ivy fucking Ravenstone, where on the goddamn planet have you been?!" To my surprise the voice didn't belong to my mother but to my cousin? I cautiously lift my head, my green eyes meeting furious caramel ones. I drag my eyes over Freya's figure. She's shaking with anger. I'm so fucking dead. Freya's normally perfect straight black hair is a tangled mess, her pale skin splotchy with rage and her fangs bared at me. Yup, sooo so dead. I haven't seen her this furious in 3 years.

"I can explain," I start, but I'm soon cut off. How the fuck do you explain to your cousin you murdered the king's brother by accident for a book and pissed off at least one of 3 princes?

"Go on then, explain to me right now why I shouldn't go and tell your mother you murdered the king's brother. Go on, tell me!!" Freya's composure seemed to shatter even more when I looked away, as if she were hoping she'd been wrong and that this was all just a joke or her mind-reading powers were playing up. "I ... I didn't mean to, I swear, I swear I didn't mean to." I'm literally begging. I didn't know I could even stoop this low.

I feel like I've swallowed glass I hate it when Freya's mad at me it's just so strange she's normally so calm and composed.

"Lyra you killed the king's brother for Kaydence's sake get your ass in here right now I'm telling your mother." Her rage sizzled away just as fast as it came, her voice cracking as she stormed inside.

I walk through the doors standing in the pitch black hallway like a guilty puppy.

My eyes tracked Freya's dark figure as she stormed up the large marble staircase. Her high heels clicking on the stairs.. I hear her trip and try to hide a laugh I still don't know why she always wears high heels; they're so impractical.

"stupid darn heels" I hear her mutter I can't help myself; I burst into laughter.

"What is all this chaos all about your sister is trying to sleep and for heaven's sake, Lyra why are you back so late."

My whole body tenses up. My mother. I turn towards the sweet voice faking a smile. I open my mouth to lie as i stare at my mother looking at her perfect hazel hair and green eyes.

" Oh, it's nothing, just she just committed murder and treason again" Freya cut in shooting me a glare so sharp it could cut glass.

"Can I at least go one night without the guards knocking on the door" Mother said, and this was worse: she didn't even sound furious just disappointed.

"Go to your room now, both of you, and Lyra, clear your hands; your ring's dirty"

Freya and I slowly make our way up the stairs towards the bedrooms.

Freya huffs, turns on her heel, and walks into her room, slamming the door hard behind her, leaving me to stand in the hallway staring at the floor. Great, she hates me. "Lyra? Is that you" I turn round looking towards my sister Rosie's room. We must have woken her. She came towards me in a white dressing gown, her hazel curls mussed with sleep and her brown eyes darting from the blood on my hands to the book under my jacket. "Rosie, go back to sleep," I whisper .

"Did you and Freya argue again?" I nod before leading her back to her room and tucking her into bed.

"I don't want to sleep the nightmares are back." I sigh as I look down at my 10 year old sister wishing i could take away her nightmares.

"What if I sing to you?" I ask. Mother always used to sing to us when we were younger.

"Can you do the raven song?"

"Of course. "

"High in the oak where the branches bend,

Count every feather the dark winds send.

Look to the fields where the shadows play,

What do the black birds promise today?

ONE for sorrow, heavy and deep,

TWO for mirth, that the children keep.

THREE for a wedding, a ring of gold,