“I’ve heard of it. Her nest is near the center, yes?”
“Correct. She’salsoroosting on one of your beloved moonshards.”
Fuck.
“And Elluin?” I snip as he begins to seep back into his jar.
“Went willingly.” The words gouge. “Quiet, but willingly. Unshackled and unrestrained.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with the hungry silence and the aching echo of his words.
I toss the empty bottle across the seater and press the heels of my hands into my eyes until it feels as though they’re about to pop, every muscle in my body pumped, threatening to burst. My heart—
The worst of them all.
I try to slow my pulse. To ease the agitated current thumping through my veins. The distant sound of Siharna’s moans makes that impossible, as does the fresh knowledge that Elluin wentwillingly.
No coercion. No bindings. Yet Raeve claims shestill loved me.
Perhaps I’m clawing at the past like a dragon trying to sharpen its talons on rock too soft to make a difference, but Borg’s answer does nothing to settle me. In fact, it does the opposite.
“Kaan?”
My heart skips a beat at the sound of Raeve’s voice.
I look to see her standing at the base of the stairs, my breath faltering.
One of my black tunics swims on her smaller form, the hem falling midway down her bare thighs, hair loose and hanging about her in messy waves. I take in her face—brows pinched, worry churning in her crisp eyes, luminous in the low light.
Alive.
So beautifully alive.
“Can’t sleep?”
A beat slips by before she shakes her head, gaze lifting to the window beyond me when another scream batters us. Her grip on the banister tightens, leading me to wonder if this is affecting her, too. If it’s dredging anything up.
She pulls a breath, seems to hesitate, then says, “Are you okay?”
No.
“Can’t sleep, either.” I reach over to cork Borg’s jar, then push him into my pocket. “Mah died birthing Veya,” I clarify, more words burning for release.
… And you died birthing Kyzari.
Her eyes soften as she looks out the window, back to me. “I’m so sorry, Kaan …”
There’s a smoothness to her voice I’ve never heard before. Tender, almost.
So lovely it hurts.
“Would you like company?”
The question is such a welcome boot to the chest that some of the tightness loosens. As though a deep-seated part of me believes everything is going to be okay now that she’s here, with me.
“Yes, Moonbeam.” I clear the rasp from my throat. “I’d like that very much.”
Icollect a round molliefruit from the bowl and set it on a chopping board, using a blade to hack it down the middle.
