The pillow disappeared. Icy water hit me in the face.
I shoved dripping hair out of my eyes, summoning magic to end my brother. “You have a death wish?”
My desire to kill him faltered when I saw the dark bruises beneath his eyes. The awful state of his usually pristine clothes.
He kicked one of the many empty bottles of puítin strewn about my room with boots that no longer gleamed. “I’d rather see you murderous than wallowing. You’ve had three weeks. That’s long enough.”
I fumbled for the full bottle I’d left on the bedside table. “Is it?” The warm liquor made my eyes water.
Rían snagged the bottle and chucked it against the wall. It exploded in a satisfying spray of glass. “The world is going to hell out there, and poor Tadhg is too busy feeling sorry for himself to give a shite.”
“And you think pointing out the obvious is going to get me out of bed?” The world had been going to hell since the humans took over, and nothing I had done had made a blind bit of difference.
I fell back onto my soaked mattress, prepared to wallow some more.
Rían dragged his dagger from its sheath, aiming the curved blade at me with an unsteady hand. Like death was some sort of threat instead of a retreat from this miserable world where Keelynn no longer existed.
“Go ahead.” I tore open my soaked shirt, sending buttons scattering across the floor. “Kill me. I won’t stop you.”
Cursing, he returned his dagger to its sheath. “I need your help.”
“Nothing you say could make me help you.”
His eyes darkened, and there was a wobble in his voice when he said, “Aveen is in prison for murder.”