He panted and bared his teeth. “You’re a witch.”

“Yeah? So?”

Ignoring me, he tore at his bandolier, unsheathing one knife and reaching for another—the one directly above his heart. But it wasn’t there. Its sheath remained empty. He checked the others frantically, fingers seizing each one, before he realized what we’d already known. All emotion slid from his face. With deadly calm, he said, “Where is my Balisarda?”

I inched toward Coco. “Stop it, Reid. You’re scaring me.”

He stalked forward slowly, intently, matching each of my steps with his own. “Where is it?”

“A tree ate it.” Coco gripped my elbow and pulled me to her side. We watched him approach together. “In the southern part of the kingdom. Bas and his bandits attacked on the road, and Lou threw your Balisarda to protect me.” She paused, uncertain. “Don’t you remember?”

“You.” Recognition flared as he focused on Coco. “You’re a healer in the Tower.” His eyes dropped to where she clutched my arm, and his lip curled. “Are you in league with this witch?”

“I—” She stopped short when I shook my head, my stomach plunging with déjà vu. I’d had this exact conversation with Bas after he’d tried to kill me in La Fôret des Yeux. Had Reid—?

No.

My mind seized, unwilling to continue thought. He wouldn’t have. He—he couldn’t have. Could he?

“Who am I?” My voice shook as I stepped in front of Coco, toward him and his knife. The movement seemed to surprise him. He didn’t strike right away. Instead, he stared at me with brows furrowed as I carefully pushed down his blade. “How do we know each other?”

He lifted it back to my face. “We don’t.”

No no no

“If this is a joke, Reid, it’s gone far enough.”

“I do not joke.”

The truth of the words fragmented in my chest, and I exhaled deeply, absorbing their pain. No one was this good at playacting. Which meant . . . he had forgotten me. Just like Bas, he’d forgotten, only this time, I couldn’t reverse the pattern. I hadn’t cast it. But how far did it reach?

And why was he acting this way?

I searched blindly for an answer, remembering the way he’d collapsed in my arms. The way Morgane had collapsed with him on the beach. If he’d truly forgotten me, did that mean . . . ?

Holy hell.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Think hard, Reid. Please. Just think. I’m Lou, remember? I’m your . . .” I glanced down at my empty ring finger, and the cracks in my chest splintered further. I’d returned his mother’s ring. Stupid. So stupid. “I’m your wife.”

His eyes hardened. “I don’t have a wife.”

“Easy.” I jerked back as he swiped at me, lifting placating hands. “I am your wife. Maybe not legally, but in the biblical sense—”

Perhaps speaking of his holy book had been a mistake.

With a snarl, he charged again, and I sidestepped, kicking his knee from behind as he went. He didn’t stumble as planned, instead pivoting with frightening agility. This time his knife caught my shirt, but I twisted at the last second. It shredded my sleeve instead. “Goddamn it.” The fabric fluttered uselessly in the breeze. “Just once, I’d like to keep my clothing intact—”

He rushed again with unexpected speed, catching my torn sleeve and yanking me closer, lifting his knife to thrust it deep in my chest. I caught his wrist, but physically, I was no match for his strength. The blade plunged lower and lower, and—not for the first time in my life—I looked death straight in the eyes.

They were the most beautiful shade of blue.

Something hard thudded into Reid’s back, propelling his knife the final inch. Blood welled as it pierced my skin, as Beau pounded at Reid’s head with both fists. Coco soon joined him, hissing as she punched down on Reid’s elbows, breaking his hold. When he turned—dragging Beau over his shoulder and throwing him to the ground—Coco wrenched a knife from his bandolier and sliced open her forearm. The bitter scent of blood magic coated the air. “We don’t want to hurt you, Reid,” she said, breathing heavily, “but if you don’t stop being an asshole, I’ll cut you a new one.”

His nostrils flared. “Demon spawn.”

She bared her teeth in a grin. “In the flesh.”

He moved to attack her, but Beau caught his ankle. “Stop this now. I command it as your—as your crown prince,” he finished lamely. Reid froze and frowned down at him.

“Your Highness? What are you doing here?”

“That’s right.” Beau choked on a cough, still struggling to breathe. He pointed to his chest. “I’m in charge. Me. And I’m telling you to concede.”

“But you’re”—Reid shook his head sharply and winced as if in pain—“you’re my . . . are you my brother?” He touched a hand to his temple. “You are my brother.”

Beau slumped on the ground. “Oh, thank God. You remember.” He twirled a hand and coughed again. “Put your knife down, Reid. You’re outnumbered if not outmanned, and I have no interest in seeing your second asshole.” He turned to Célie, who stood apart from the rest of us, her face ashen. “Do you want to see his second asshole?”

It was Reid’s turn to blanch. “Célie.” Instead of dropping his weapons, however, he streaked to her side, his righteous anger deepening to outright rage. He pushed her behind him. “Stay back, Célie. I won’t let them touch you.”

“Oh, good lord,” Coco muttered.

“Reid.” Tentatively, Célie pushed at his back, but he didn’t budge. His eyes found mine, and in them, hatred burned hotter than anything I’d ever seen. I could feel its heat wash over my skin, primal and visceral. Eternal. Like Coco’s Hellfire. “Reid, this is unnecessary. These—Louise and Cosette are my friends.” She tried showing him the green ribbon around her wrist. “See? They will not harm me. They will not harm you either. Just give us a chance to explain.”

“What?” He whirled to face her then, seizing the ribbon and tearing it free. “You call them friends? They’re witches, Célie. They killed your sister!”