Page 174 of Devoured

“I—”

“Am I interrupting something?” Portia appears at my side, but I don’t realize she’s there until she speaks. Beneath her feet, she’s grown patches of grass to silence her steps. A strand of ivy closes the door. “I sure hope my invitation for this reunion didn’t get lost in the mail—you know, since I sleep one floor away from Evelyn.”

“No reunions,” Evie says, flopping onto Sinclair’s bed and kicking her boots up onto the silk sheets. “I was stalking Vanessa. It took her forever to drag her ass back here.”

“Makes sense. I was stalking you, and I was getting tired of pacing in the corridor.” Portia doesn’t bother sitting. Instead, she too reaches for that charcoal drawing. She curls her fingers and grows her strand of ivy longer, thicker. At first, I don’t understand what she’s doing. But after a few minutes, it becomes clear. She uses the ivy to frame the drawing.

She stands it up on the desk so we can all see it. Evie hums her approval, and Portia beams.

“You know, that Mind Reader is pacing the corridors too,” Evie says. “It’s making me uneasy. Do we need to be worried about her?”

I think back to what Lyra almost shared with me and fight a laugh.

“What?” Evie snaps. “Don’t keep secrets.”

“Haven’t you learned anything, Vanessa?” Portia chides. “Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone.”

Evie slashes a finger toward Portia. “Exactly.”

“Hell is freezing over if you’re agreeing with each other,” I say. “No. Arielle isn’t a threat. I think she’s just lonely. She won’t know what to do with herself now that Cora isn’t here to use her.”

Evie pretends to gag herself. “Ew. Don’t make me feel sympathy for her. I was already nice about Sin. I can’t spare any more kindness this morning.”

“Magnanimous of you, Your Majesty,” Portia says with a laugh.

“Oh, stars. I’m Your Majesty now.” Evie shudders. “That is so fucking weird.”

Portia takes a seat at Sin’s desk, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “So you’re queen, then? You’ve formally accepted the position? When will they hold the coronation?”

“I hate that you’re so on top of everything. Yes, Montgomery, I have formally accepted the position. The court is in shambles without me. I guess the lesser packs devolved to infighting in my parents’ absence. The nobility started to bicker over who would take the throne if I died. It’s going to be torture trying to earn everyone’s loyalty, but—next week. I’ll be coronated next week.”

“You won’t have to earn anything,” I say sincerely. “Evie, you are your parents’ daughter. It’s not just about birthright. You were made for this. You’ve trained for this. If you’d become queen of this court as originally intended, you’d have saved Sin’s ass and made him a good king.”

Evie grins at me, fiddling absentmindedly with her fingers. “Careful, Hart. That sounds like a compliment.”

“Not all of us have problems expressing positive emotions,” Portia says. “Remember when I made you the flower crown and you scorned me?”

“It. Was. Pink.”

“And it looked gorgeous on you!”

Evie extends a claw. “Would you like a letter opener in your throat? It will look gorgeous on you.”

“You are going to miss me so much when I’m back in Canada,” Portia says. “You are going to write me so many letters, begging me to visit. You are going to salivate for another one of my crowns.”

“I will write you once a year,” Evie argues.

“Once a week.”

“Maybe once a month,” Evie amends. “But that’s only if you don’t annoy me to death first.”

Portia giggles. Evie smirks. And I wish this moment could last forever. I have so much more to say to them, to thank them for, but I can’t.

I thought, after the equinox, we would have more time together. Time to just exist. To paint our nails and go to the beach and maybe even stop by a movie theater. But it has to end here. It can’t be more than this. And we all know it.

We are all moving on.

“Portia,” I say slowly.