With one foot on the first step, I look over my shoulder at the woman—her back to the bar, one elbow resting on top, sharp eyes searching the shadow within my hood.
She lifts her other hand to display my dagger hanging loosely from her fingers.
My heart vaults, and I dash forward, catching curious glares from some of the other patrons. As my fingers grasp the handle, Cindra pulls me to her and hisses in my ear—five sharp words that prickle my skin.
“You look better inblack.”
Istand before his door, clutching his key with the same hand that clenched around the shard of glass that tore through my flesh and bled me.
Drew him to me.
The same hand that gripped the hilt of that talon and slammed it through his chest.
More fractures, and I scramble to patch them up, planting my head on the door as I breathe through chattering teeth …
Don’t think.
I shove the key into the lock and clunk the bolt aside. Pushing the door inward, I step forward, struck by the flood ofhimthat pours into my lungs like a stormy deluge.
He’s an icy wind that gushes down my throat and soothes the ravaged path. He’s heavy drops of rain that dump upon the sizzling ember of my self-hatred. He’s a lightning bolt oflife—electrifying my heart and forcing it to beat faster.
Faster.
Faster.
Clawing at my throat, I fold my weight against the door, slamming it shut behind me as I gulp breath like I’m parched. Like this is the first time I’ve come up for air since he slipped from my grasp with unsaid words trapped within his split chest.
My gasping finally calms to slow, deliberate breaths, and I take in the room, heart pounding.
The stone walls appear flat in the dull light, a stark contrast to his city map, the attention to detail making it seem lifelike. The desk to my right is still littered with bits of rock and his half-finished sketch—
I rip my gaze away. Look at the bed.
His sword lays across the end, as though he made the conscious decision to leave it before he followed me into the woods. Other than that, the crumples in the sheets have not shifted since I fell backward onto them. Since he lowered his weight upon me and ground his body against my aching parts.
Since he told me to show him my damage.
No—not told.
Asked.
Instead of talking, I sharpened that damage into a curved weapon and punched it through his chest.
My knees give way, and I collapse into a pile of knotted limbs, fingers reaching for my neck, clawing.
Clawing.
He may have been a monster hewn from a dark and bloody era, he may have been a murderer once upon a time, but he wasmymonster.
Mine.
“I saved lives,” I chant, hunting for dwindling beads of light. I smear them across that protective shell, my lids so heavy it’s a battle to keep them open. A shiver wraps around my ribs and shakes, shakes,shakes—
Clutching my middle, I slump to the side, stare diving beneath the bed, landing on a black parcel half the length of my forearm.
My gaze rakes the shape of it, its placement. The exact position as my hiding place in Stony Stem.
My heart lurches.
