“Alina,” I warned, “come here, or I will drag you by your hair. You choose.”
She took a moment for herself, releasing an exasperated sigh. She rose from the chair and slipped through the shadows.
The streetlamps cast faint light through the window, illuminating the omen before me.
Remnants of dried blood, Vipera and human, interrupted the elegant lines of her features. The skin around her eyes was red, and she had fresh cuts on her face.
Tears filled her eyes, her lip quivered, and her lips moved to form my name, but she didn’t have to. Her knees crumpled beneath her, her grief too heavy to carry any longer. It didn’t matter. I was already there, my arms enveloping her, my palm at the back of her head.
Her arms flung around me. Her quivering grip just made me want to squeeze tighter; I wanted so badly to steady her.
“What happened?” I whispered into her hair, the metallic scent of blood and tears burning my senses.
She shook her head and swallowed, her lip quivering once the question left my mouth. “I’m tired of this. I’m tired of bearing the cost of being decent, of being honorable, and only rewarded with hardship.”
Her sorrow was familiar. The rage, the anger, all made fromthe same kind she threw at me before she left for good. This was it. This was her limit.
“Come here.” I slipped the gun from her trembling hand and pulled her into the bed. I gathered her long legs over my lap and held her head against my chest. “You’re shaking.”
She did not answer me, and I hated it. Silence from Alina was never a good sign.
I smoothed her hair, the crust of dried blood clumping the strands together. I lifted her chin, inspecting the cuts across her face. She couldn’t look at me. There was no spark tonight, an utterly defeated demeanor, no fire in her.
She lifted her eyes to me, waiting for me to say something.
“Could you at least find it in you to be angry with me?”
Her fine brow arched. “If you return my pistol, I couldshowyou.”
I placed it in her hand, guiding her finger to the trigger, and pointed it under my chin, her armed hand between my own, clasped like a prayer.
Every second passed was another I could hear our hearts beat, one of hers was three of mine, and she owned every single one.
She squeezed the trigger, the hollow click of an empty chamber following.
“Youdidmiss me.”
“How could my heart forget a betrayal like yours?”
“I wasn’t aware you had one,” I whispered in her ear, “but it’s good to know it can be stolen once more.”
She suppressed her laugh in vain. It was like music to my ears.
I wrapped my arms around her, burying my head in her shoulder.
“How about we celebrate?” I suggested.
“I am not in the mood.”
“Not with that attitude,” I laughed.
Even with a lighter mood, she was too tired to react. I stroked her hair, then cheek. The sensation of dry clotted blood was an uncomfortable texture to touch. I couldn’t imagine how it felt.
This wouldn’t do, not like this.
“I have another term,” she mumbled between bites.
“Will you be asking for zebras next?” I joked, tilting her chin up so I could carefully remove the shards of shotgun shell from her cheek and shoulder.
