Part 14 (1/2)

She's right. Today is about her and Maz. Not me and my problems.

”Hold still, Kyra. This is going to take longer if you keep fidgeting,” her mother orders. She and the hair stylist have been brus.h.i.+ng and tugging on Kyra's curls for at least an hour. So far, I've seen no change. Her hair looks as unruly as ever.

”Can't we just magic her hair into place?” I ask as I study Kyra's reflection in the mirror. I've always thought she looked like a cross between Mother and Caitlyn Greene and now I know why.

Both Kyra and her mother giggle. ”Lark, I swear, sometimes you're too funny.” Kyra's reflection winks at me. When I continue to scowl, she adds, ”We're being traditional.”

So that's a 'no,' I guess.

Her mother hands emerald encrusted pins to the stylist and he jams them into Kyra's hair. If it were me, I'd be flinching and crying out in pain, but Kyra doesn't move.

I sigh. In a few days, I'm going to be the one standing before the mirror. Only there won't be any smiles and laughter.

My binding is going to feel like a funeral.

All morning, I've been trying to decide if Kyra knows about Ryker, but it's hard to tell with the way she's bouncing around the room. Part of me believes she has to know. There's no way Ryker didn't tell Maz, who of course would tell Kyra. Plus, she made all those comments about Ryker and me.

Still, Kyra's never been good at keeping secrets. And this is a big one.

She twists and turns before the mirror, admiring her reflection.

There's no way she knows. Which means I have to find the right time to tell her. I know she's going to think it's a wonderful idea. But I don't want to hear about how much sense it makes, or how perfect Ryker and I are for each other.

I want my best friend to at least try to understand how binding to another boy, even if it's in name only, makes my skin crawl. I want her to hold my hand and let me cry on her shoulder. But Kyra won't do either of these things. She'll tell me to stop dwelling on Beck.

”Did you count the candles?” Kyra says, breaking my train of thought. ”There are supposed to be one hundred and twenty-three.”

My main tasks, so far, have been running errands, double checking candle counts, and trying to keep the bride and her mother, Tabitha, from murdering each other. We both can't wait for Tabitha to leave, but for different reasons.

”Everything looks perfect,” I say as I walk over to retrieve Kyra's gown. It hangs from the back of the door, ready to be worn, and her shoes sit below it. The whole thing looks a little like a ghost wearing a dress.

A quick glance at my wristlet confirms the ceremony starts in thirty minutes. We have to hurry up.

”Leave us. Go greet guests or something.” Kyra bats her mother's hand away from her hair. I shouldn't be surprised her mother and the stylists do as they're told. Not with Kyra's ability to control people with her touch.

And yet I am.

A slow realization washes over me. Kyra can make her mother do what she wants. My hand hovers in the air, holding the dress high. What if...

The hanger slips from my fingers and I dart my hands out to catch it before it crumples on the ground. Kyra will never forgive me if I ruin the dress.

”Careful, Lark!”

I grasp the hanger and hold it high over my head so that the bottom doesn't drag on the ground. Kyra's several inches taller than me and even with heels on, the dress is still too long for me.

”Sorry.” Hope bubbles in my heart as I unlace the back of the dress.

What if I can force Mother to change her mind? Is it even possible?

”I thought they'd never leave.” Kyra pats down an imaginary stray piece of hair. ”I'm so happy I only have to deal with her a few times a year. Can you imagine having to be with your parents all. The. Time?”

”I can, because I live with mine.” I bend down and hold the dress open so Kyra can step into it.

”Malin likes it, you know.” Kyra grabs hold of the bed's footboard.

”Likes what?” I ask as my fingers fumble with the lacing up the back of the dress. I tug and pull, and Kyra sucks in her already flat stomach.

”That you're almost as strong as she is.” Kyra lifts the hem of the gown and holds out her foot. I kneel and tie crisp bows around each of her ankles. ”Annalise says you're like a new toy for Malin. She has no idea what you're going to do. And it excites her.”

”That makes two of us. The unpredictableness, I mean. Not the excitement.”

Kyra spins and the dress billows around her. She's always been adorable with her dark curls and big eyes, but today she looks radiant. ”Speaking of Malin, what did she want yesterday?”

It's the question I've wanted her to ask since I walked in the door, but seeing her so happy, so giddy over the upcoming ceremony, I think it's best to wait. I don't want to ruin her moment with my bad mood.

”Just going over a few matters of State.” It's true...in a way.

Kyra puts her hand on her hip and juts out her bottom lip. ”You're lying.”

If I wanted, I could claim confidentiality, but I need my best friend. I sigh. ”She demanded I pick a new mate.”

Kyra's hands fly over her mouth and she squeaks. ”What's his name? Is he cute? When is the ceremony?”

She doesn't know. That small fact somehow makes me feel better. Still, I scrunch up my face and pry one eye open. ”It's Ryker.”

Kyra shrieks as she jumps up and down, clapping in delight. ”I knew it! I told Maz the two of you would be paired off! And why shouldn't you be? You've been raised together, you both need mates.” Kyra's switched to rapid fire mode and I find myself growing dizzy from her a.s.sault. ”This is so exciting! We're going to have to get right to work. Tomorrow. We can pick out your gown and your shoes. Who do you want to attend? Our old housemates? The Dark ones, obviously. But what about the humans? Do you think Malin will mind? Obviously we can't invite Lena.”

I don't want to talk about this, but I don't want to upset Kyra either. ”How about we wait until after today? We have more important things to do, right now.” I pick up her wrap from the back of a chair and hand it to her.

Kyra grins at me. ”If you insist. I do have a little thing called a binding to get to.” She giggles again and covers her shoulders with the wrap.

Suddenly, the smile fades from her face and panic replaces it. She paces to the far corner before wandering back to me.

”What if I mess this up? Say the wrong thing or something?”

”Then we'll laugh and you'll still be bound to Maz at the end of the day.”

She grabs my hands between hers. ”The binding, does it hurt? When you combine magic?”

My throat tightens and I force words out. ”No. It feels amazing. Like you're being made complete.”

She drops my hands and kisses me on the cheek. ”Thank you, Lark. For being my best friend.”

Without waiting, like she knows I need a moment alone, she hurries to the door and disappears into the hallway. I dab the corner of my eye with my thumb.

”And when you're ripped from one another, it feels like you're dying every day. With every breath,” I whisper into the emptiness around me.

Kyra's head touches Maz's as she leans closer to him. His hand slips around hers and their fingers intertwine. Kyra's father, Liam, lays a hand on each of their shoulders and Maz's mother sprinkles scented water over them. The drops splatter across the silk of Kyra's gown like tiny teardrops.