“Do you want the water still?” says Quinn.
“Yes. Pour it on her. Start with her face. It might help for the next part.”
Quinn pours the cool water on my face and upper body, and the relief is immediate. There’s still pain and a lot of it, but it’s no longer the only thing I can think about.
It leaves my mind open to realize what Ronan is going to do.
“No, no, no,” I whimper. “Ronan, please.”
“I’m so sorry, my love. It’s the only way. The pain is temporary, I promise you.”
He reaches for the torch. He’s going to do to me what I had to do to him.
I sense, with the tiny sliver of magic I have left, his horror as he presses the burning flame of the torch to my charred skin.
I scream so loud and so long, I can’t tell when it stops. The pain is blinding, searing, pure white-hot agony on a scale I couldn’t have imagined before this moment. I’m certain I’m going to pass out from it, but I’m not granted that mercy. I remain awake as Ronan passes the torch over all of my burnt flesh, his hands shaking and tears running down his face.
“Oh gods, I’m so sorry. Sylvie, I’m so sorry.” He rocks me as he finishes, his fear and anguish palpable.
But it’s working. The pain goes from the worst I’ve ever felt to nothing in seconds. It flees so quickly I could almost believe I died, and this is the afterlife.
Almost, but not quite. Not with Ronan holding me like this, cradling me and brushing the charred section of hair away from my face.
“But you love my hair,” I say, letting out a sob.
“I would love you bald. As long as you’re still here with me.”
He kisses me, and this time, Seth doesn’t have anything to say about it.
Ronan helps me up, and Seth’s eyes can’t meet mine. He’s staring at the ground, lost in his shame.
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” asks Quinn. She moves to shove Seth but stops herself just in time, remembering the button. “She could havedied.”
“He couldn’t have known.” None of the other buttons or switches we used needed to be held. As annoyed as Seth has made me today, I don’t blame him for this.
“Could you hold the button for a minute, please?” asks Seth, his voice quiet and low.
Quinn presses the button before Seth releases it, flexing a fist at him in warning.
Seth approaches me. I shift up the ruins of my tunic for modesty as Ronan wraps his arms around me protectively.
There’s a tense moment while we stare at each other. He doesn’t look like Father or Mother right now in this moment of true humility.
He looks like me.
He takes the shirt off his own back and holds it out to me. I step forward out of Ronan’s grasp, and Seth drapes the tunic over my head. It swallows me, but at least I’m covered.
“Thanks,” I mumble. This gesture alone is an extraordinary apology coming from him.
But then he pulls me to him, hugging me tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“I know,” I say.
Dammit, he’s the worst, but I do love him.
“You all need to go,” says Quinn, unsurprisingly unmoved by Seth’s gesture of kindness. “I’ll stay here with the button.”
“No, I’ll stay,” says Seth.
