“I can do this without him,” I tell myself.
But something about those words feels wrong.
And now that I’m no longer going to lie to myself, I realize why.
Can I do this without Severin? Yes. Of course I can. But do Iwantto?
The answer comes easily, accompanied by another burst of light from my sphere.
No.
No, no, no.
Tears blur my vision, and my arms begin to shake as I continue to fight to hold the sphere together. In a moment, a barrage of thoughts crashes into me: My future. My dreams. Severin.
The sphere pulses violently, sending tendrils of white-blue lightning lashing outward before they snap back toward the center. For a heartbeat, I think I’m going to lose control of it entirely, maybe blast apart the entire railing this time rather than just fracturing it. Then I’ll be right back to where I started, and the collective’s board isn’t going to have any interest in a storm witch who can’t even properly wield her own magic.
I hear Severin in my ear, as I so often do these days:Your control is an illusion.
I grit my teeth until my jaw aches.
Then, with a rush of breath, I give in. I stop fighting. I stop trying to control.
The truth settles into my chest with the softness of petals unfurling in spring.
I love Severin D’Arques. And even though Icando this without him, I don’t want to.
My breathing slows, and my grip on my magic softens. Immediately, the sphere stabilizes. Its light stops flashing and returns to a steady white glow.
I stare down at it, and without meaning to, I laugh.
Because this explains so much.
All this time, I thought resisting my bond with Severin made me stronger. Walking away from him made me stronger. Choosing independence made me stronger.
But maybe allowing myself to soften is where my true strength lies.
Carefully, slowly, I lower my hands. My energy sphere dissolves into tendrils of harmless white light that break apart into tiny glowing sparks, like glowbugs on a summer evening. They drift away on the winter wind, leaving me once more standing in the cold light of the stars.
My chest heaves, my cheeks are wet with tears, and my heart pounds.
But that spot just beneath my sternum feels steadier than it has in weeks. Because the truth is so clear now, and I can no longer pretend I don’t see it. Walking away from Severin didn’t actually protect me; rather, it protected my fear, my anger, my resistance.
Once more, I tip my face back to look up at the sky. And it looks brighter now, as if the clouds that’ve been fogging my mind have finally parted.
If I truly want this future I’ve been fighting so hard for, maybe that means I need to fight for love as well.
Chapter 54
Severin
MY APARTMENT IS DARK, LIT only by the starlight slipping through the window. Outside, winter wind brushes along the stone, soft as a sigh against the windowpane.
I stand in my tiny kitchen, staring down at the glass of blood I poured from my blood bank reserves. And I have to strive not to curl my lip at it in disgust.
Steeling myself, I lift the glass and force myself to take a sip. The blood coats my tongue and slides down my throat, and my body immediately wants to reject it, but I refuse to let the nausea stop me. So I take another sip. Then another.
I gag and lower the glass to the counter with a trembling hand.
