I failed.
“Safah.” Omarion floated over and wrapped me in a large, warm embrace. I held onto him, thankful for his kindness. But truthfully, while I desperately wanted a hug, he wasn’t the one I wanted it from.
Omarion gently petted my hair, squeezing me tight enough to bring a smile to my face. If Ezekiel were here, he’d have given me the same kind of hug.
“You okay, Sazu?”
“I’m…I’m alright.” I took a breath. Blinked away my blurring vision. “Really. I’m fine…I’m totally fine. Promise.”
“Liar.”
I stilled.
It was then I noticed the intoxicating scent of mint and sandalwood curling through my nostrils. Fire immediately ignited my blood. I blinked, shoving the sensation down, and out of my mind. Ignoring the voice in my head, I pulled away from Omarion, and slipped on my sandals.
“Titombwe was…nothing.” My tongue felt like it was coated in ash. “I just needed to…process it all. That’s it.” I cleared my throat. “I’m good.”
“Really, Starling. You are an awful liar. I’m glad to know that about you.”
I whipped around and flinched.
All of Xadari Legion stood in a wide stance, their arms crossed, covered all in black. A contrast to us Disciples dripping in golden robes. They glared at me.
The small one especially with the same eyes as Quazar. She watched me with a curious expression.
They all seemed like dogs on a leash, waiting to be given the command to attack. On a good dawn, I would’ve rushed away. Against all of them, I was beat. Especially with them all being hardened warriors, and I was just a Disciple.
This dawn though, I just remained there. I was so mentally exhausted. It was Quazar who’d been drained, but somehow, because of our bond, it felt like I’d been siphoned of my life source, too.
I turned my gaze to Quazar. And stars burn it all if all I could see was him on that dais being broken, contorted, and drained of his blood and life. My stomach knotted so tightly I wanted to bend over and scream.
“You don’t look so good, Starling. What’s got you so sad?”
This fool had just been within the threshold of death only dawns ago, and he was standing here now like nothing happened? He was cracking jokes?
Blood for blood!
All I could hear was the roar of vengeance from an arena of multi-millions. All I could see was golden ichor staining polished glass.
My nostrils flared. I lifted my shoulders. Dropped them. My wings hung limp. I looked into those emerald eyes. I saw twisted limbs. Broken bones. Raven black tendrils crawling up his skin. Glowing inscriptions burning to life.
Tears stung my eyes. I commanded them not to fall.
They disobeyed me anyway.
I took a shuttering breath, looked at Quazar through blurrying vision, and turned away. The sight of Granmanmi stained my eyes. The anger of my brothers, my sisters, raced by right after. My mind and my hearts were in utter turmoil. I had a splitting headache and I didn’t know how to make any of it go away.
I covered my face with my hands unable to stop wave after wave of tears. I grieved my Manmi, but it was only now I came to realize I didn’t have it in me to carry the weight of vengeance that came along with that grief. Bitterness was a root easily planted, but too great a challenge to maintain.
The wingtower was quiet. So quiet.
Ellabeth looked torn. I knew she wanted to hold me. Help me feel better. But we had a lifelong rule. We always gave oneanother space until the other asked for entry. And I wasn’t ready. Not to be held. To be comforted.
I swear it felt like the Infinite was punishing me. Breaking my mind for being so hungry for blood. Feeding me a feast of it and making me choke until I felt like I’d been bathing with swine.
I wiped away at my eyes, giving up on my tears. Stars. This was going to be a hèllishly long dawn. If Tharic saw me like this, I’d be finished.
I made to start flying away, headed for the front doors of the wingtower, but a shadowy hand stopped me. I looked down and found a ring of shadows gently wrapped around my waist, holding me in place. I looked back over my shoulder. I was such a mess of tears, Quazar seemed to have three heads.
