Turning from him, I stormed out of the throne room, leaving Caelestis’ ruler dumbfounded. I smirked to myself, proud of my long-awaited resistance to authority.
Footsteps followed me out, but I didn't look to see who it was.
“Maeve, can we talk about this, please?” Sebastian's voice of concern passed through one ear and out the other.
I kept walking, heading for my room to get my armor.
“Maeve?”
I closed in on the door of the soldier's housing.
“Maeve!” Sebastian cut in front of me, stopping the in entryway where I laid bleeding not long ago.
“Move,” I warned, my fists clenching by my sides.
He shook his head. “I know you're upset about your family, and you have every right to be, but you're not fighting this battle.”
His words came out as a demand, but I would not tolerate being bossed around byanyoneright now—not even him.
“Upset?” I scoffed. “I'm notupset.” Jutting my shoulder into his chest, I pushed by him and started up the stairs. “I'm shattered. I'm devastated. I’m fucking pissed!” I yelled down the steps.
I barged into my room, immediately stripping my clothes off to change into something more combat appropriate. I pulled on a pair of leather pants that matched my boots and a long sleeved top. After tying my hair into a quick, messy braid, I moved to my desk, hunching over it and shuffling through the drawers trying to find my dagger.
Sebastian watched as I scrambled frantically around myroom, collecting everything I needed to go destroy some Draemornian assholes. He came up behind me and tried to wrap his arms around me, but I turned out of his hold.
“Don’t,” I cautioned, knowing if he tried to talk some sense into me that I may just listen.
His shoulders drooped in defeat. “I will get on my knees and beg you if I have to. Please just let me bring you somewhere safe.”
I glared at him, chewing on the inside of my cheek as my anger boiled over.
I should have listened. Should have done as he advised. But there was no retribution if there was no pain, and I’d be damned if I let him avenge my family for me.
“No.” My hand secured around the dagger he gifted me and I sidestepped away from him, moving to sit on my bed so that I could tie my sheath.
“Gods, Maeve, come on!” Sebastian threw his arms in the air. “You almost died like, a week ago for fuck’s sake!”
“Yeah, but I didn't. Pia healed me and I’m fine,” I growled at him.
“But you almost did!”
I jumped back to my feet. “BUT I DIDN'T!” I screamed in his face.
My yelling didn't faze him. “Please. Just let me keep you safe?—”
“Sebastian Aldous freakin’ Hawthorne!” I shouted, interjecting his plea.
His eyes widened at the use of his full name.
“You can either stand there and argue with me over something that I'm going to do anyway, or you can help me buckle this damn chest plate.” I rose to my feet and shuffled the armor that matched his over my head.
A muscle in his jaw ticked as he considered his options, neither of which he was thrilled with—his face gave thatmuch away. He grunted in disapproval, but caved and stepped behind me to tighten the sides of my armor.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him, my tone relaxing as I met the mask of fear he wore.
“You better be, because I meant what I said—no veil or life or death will keep me from you.”
Amidst all the chaos, the prophecy had been tucked neatly away in the back of my mind. Though Blythe told me not to fear, adrenaline coursed through me at the idea that I might actuallynot be fine.
