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My last word is a shriek. Horror fills me as tiny cracks appear on Styx’s body and transfer to Fox’s skin as slivers of stone.
“It’s not the pendant, Willow.” His voice is strained. Pained.
“I’ll get rid of it.”
“He’s a part of you.” He struggles to speak. “Cherish him. Don’t get rid of memories that define you.”
“Youdefine me, Fox. You!”
The tears are free flowing now. The cracks appearing in Styx are deafening, like thunder. My fist clenches so tightly that a stress fracture forms in the vial.
“Cherish me,”Fox whispers into my mind.“Wait for me.”
My mother’s voice rises from a memory—the night I was cursed.Cherish his memory, and he’ll live in you forever.I open my palm. My blood is black against the buzzing ball of Tinger’s light.He’ll live in you forever.
I came here because of Tinger. He saved my life, but I thought I wasn’t worth the sacrifice. This pain has followed me around ever since, feeding Titania’s curse. And it will keep following me until I let it go, lethimgo.
I lift my gaze to Fox—to the ribbons of stone slicing over his body.
A manabee has power. If Titania’s magic is half mine, maybe I can save Fox and Styx. All I need is a spark, and my fire might reignite. I crush the glass vial in my fist. Pain slices into my palm. Tinger’s memory melts into me.
Bounding down into the gully, I sniff the dirt for danger and stop. Another whiff, just to make sure. Then I lift my twitching nose her way and flap my wings. Here. I’ll do it. I’ll be the bait.
Her brows lift. “You want to be the bait?”
Perfect lady. She understands me. We belong together. What a fierce mate she would make. But then she hesitates. No, she’s not like the others. She sees my heart and believes.
But sometimes she forgets. I snarl to remind her of my fierce worthiness as her protector.
“Okay,” she agrees, and I puff my chest in pride. “People keep telling us what we’re not capable of. So, if you want tosit there as bait, be my guest. We have another fifteen minutes, then we’ll?—”
I dare the hound to come for us. Let it try. We are unstoppable. She is mighty, and she believes in me.
The memory shifts. Blurs. Blinks as Tinger’s eyes open and close. I see my face, sobbing over him in the forest, but it’s my little friend’s thoughts I hear.
I am whole. My purpose is filled. I have saved her, my mate, all because she dared to believe in the heart of a broken monster. And now she has freed me.
Tinger’s next blink is his last.
I open my eyes, and I’m back in the cave, clutching broken glass to my chest. The stupid, adorable wolpertinger thought I was his mate, but he loved me.
Pebbles drop on my head, crumbling from Styx’s wings. Fox is almost completely riddled with stone. And I’m still empty—no dizzying, drunken effect from the ingested manabee. No spark. No power inside me with which to save my hive. Nothing.
I was wrong.
I failed.
Nothings don’t have names.
You’re such a pathetic, disgusting waste of space.
My fist tightens. Pain radiates up my palm. Blood drips onto the dirt.
You belong with the other nightmares. It’s high time your realm acknowledges that too. When you rise on the morrow, your visage will mirror the ugliness lurking within your heart.
Titania’s voice fills me with hot, trembling rage. She doesn’t know my heart better than me. I am the only one who holds that power. I control my destiny, my choices, my fate. She might have stolen my magic and left me empty, but I’m not nothing.
I’m something.
