No.
How long have I been out for? A day? Two?
More?
I hunt the few patches of sky, desperate for a glimpse of the moon so I can map its phase.
A frantic surge swells inside me when I fail to find it.
I exhale a rattling breath and roll sideways, coughing foul-tasting bile across the rocks while I cup that tiny seed notched in my chest, alight with a twinkling shine, its delicate roots woven deep where they belong.
Relief loosens some of the muscles in my chest and throat, making my next breath easier.
Smoother.
“Keep beating.” The order is growled as I push onto all fours, looking up at the sheer cliff from between the gaps in my sodden hair.
My heart plummets.
It can’t be higher than fifteen feet, but right now—with a half-healed hole in my guts and leg and a split in my heart—it looks like a fucking mountain.
Just keep fucking beating.
With the talon still clutched in my fist, I crawl, stumble, and slide across algae-slicked rocks, black blood leaking from the rotten wound in my chest. I reach the vertical cliff, mapping its clefts and bumps, ignoring the black blots gathering in my vision like a swarm of flies.
I push to a swaying stand and slam my fist forward, impaling the talon deep into the rock face a foot above my head. Tightening my grip on the hilt, I hang my weight and lift myself with a chest-cleaving howl, certain my entrails are spilling from the puncture in my gut.
That the muscles in my thigh are fraying.
I dig my fingers into a cleft in the stone, scuff my sodden boot against another, then rip the talon free and swing myself higher. Stab the talon deep again.
Again.
More black blots muddy my vision, my body growing cold and heavy, forcing me to pause. I glance down at the sharp and slippery rocks below …
Not now.
I’ll fucking die again.
I tighten my grip on the talon as the world begins to blur, Orlaith’s past words grating across my heart.
My soul.
I just love you so much it hurts.
I roar to the sky and the stone and this hole in my fucking chest stealing all my strength, wondering if she can hear me shredding the air as I rip the talon free and stab it into the rock. More blood oozes from my split chest, pushing between clenched teeth, bubbling past my tight lips.
She has no idea what’s coming for her.
Ipull and stab, pull and stab, finally hauling myself over the ledge. I flop down upon steady ground, wrestling wisps of breath.
You’re the happily ever after I don’t deserve.
A deep, gravelly laugh scrapes up my throat, wet and sticky, reeking of the rot leaching through my veins.
You can’t escape me, Milaje. You’ll have to trap me in an iron coffin and drop me in the middle of the fucking ocean, and even then, I’ll haunt your dreams.
Your nightmares.
