“We should look into the prophecy tomorrow,” I said, sinking to the stone bench.
“For gods’ sake.” His hand fell away from Okean’s key. “Is that all you can think about right now?”
I frowned. “Should I be thinking about something else? We must stop Yazmin.”
Gaige tossed his hands up to the sky. “Are you really that insensitive? Do you have any idea how difficult this is for me? Screw Yazmin. She can have her damn war for all I care.”
“Don’t say that.” My fingers started to tremble, and I clasped my hands to keep them still. Steady. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. It must be—”
“Don’t.” His steel-blue glare cut through the night, targeting me directly. “Don’t you dare try to assume what it feels like.”
“You’re not the only one who’s died here, Gaige.”
The fire in his gaze was more intense than the crackling flames before us. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better? What do you know about losing the very thing that made you who you are?”
“Everything!” I shot to my feet, surprised by my own visceral reaction. I blinked several times and tried to soothe the erratic rise and fall of my chest. Where were these emotions coming from? Why couldn’t I control myself around him? No doubt it was the guilt for raising him, but it felt deeper, somehow. That realization only made me spiral further, and memories of my past flooded to the surface. Of the life I used to live before joining Cruor. Of Jude. Slowly, I brought my fingers to my chest. A raised scar long healed rubbed against the fabric of my tunic, and a phantom pang throbbed outward from my touch.
Gaige’s shoulders tensed, but he said nothing. Only continued to glower at me.
Steeling my emotions, I cleared my throat. “In Cruor, it’s customary to not share details about one’s past.”
“How lucky you don’t have to relive your pain. I, on the other hand, am reminded of my choice every single moment.” He stripped the glove off his hand and thrust it toward the fire, basking his faint symbol in the warm glow.
“I have scars, too.” My hand formed a fist against my chest, and the pang deepened. “I died because I protected someone I loved. I did it willingly. And hepromisedto stay by my side, even after I became…this.” Body shaking, I tried in vain to get a grip on the sudden, unexpected heat rising to the surface inside me. And failed. “He lied. I know it isn’t the same, but I do know what it’s like to lose something,someone, I love. That pain isn’t foreign to me—I deal with it every day. But I keep going because I have to. Because my family depends on me.”
For a long time, he said nothing. Shaking his head, he stood. A dark cloud obscured his gaze. “We’re undead, Kost. We’ll live forever. One love lost doesn’t compare to the hundreds of loves that just vanished from my life. You’ll have the chance to find someone again. I’ll never get my beasts back.”
“Don’t belittle my pain.”
“Then don’t belittle mine!” Gaige bit back, a snarl escaping from his lips. Shoving his hand back into his leather glove, he scoffed. “I need some air.”
I gestured stiffly to the space around us. “We’re already outside.” It felt childish,wrong, to fight with him like this. Why on earth was I letting him elicit such a reaction out of me?
Gaige turned away and stormed toward the forest line. “Freshair. This space is full of bullshit.”
Shadows swallowed him and he disappeared into the darkness. I didn’t have the heart to follow. The burning ire I’d felt had immediately subsided with his retreat, and I was left with nothing but emptiness. Sinking back to the bench, I cradled my head in my hands. I knew better than to bait a newly raised assassin. I used to train them before Ozias came along. Their temperaments were wild and unpredictable, thanks to the influx of power that came with controlling the shadows. Gaige’s reaction was normal. But mine…wasn’t.
Slipping my fingers into my breast pocket, I extracted a bronze key. Holding it out before me, I opened the beast realm door. My Poi came bounding through the moment I called. Felicks’s fox-like head tilted to the side, and the amethyst orb nestled between his ears clouded. Cleared. Images flashed through my mind, traveling down the bond between us, and I sighed. I’d hoped to see Gaige returning to the fire and us speaking in much more civilized, amicable manner. Instead, I just saw two minutes of me sitting with Felicks. No one else.
I scooped up my beast and settled him in my lap. “I really messed that up, didn’t I?”
He let out a quiet whine and then shoved his snout beneath my palm. Minutes stretched into hours as I quietly sat in front of the fire, stroking the length of Felicks’s spine. Every two minutes a new future would brew, and every two minutes my breath would catch. But nothing happened.
Eventually, Felicks drifted off to sleep and the visions stopped. The quiet hum of his snores soothed my frayed nerves. Even so, I couldn’t convince myself to move. Returning to camp meant that this conversation was truly over. That Gaige wouldn’t come back. All because of something I’d said. I hadn’t meant to be callous, but the more I turned over our exchange in my mind, examined each word and winced at my choices, the more I realized my empathy hadn’t been empathetic at all.
As dawn crested over the forest line, ushering in a new day and reminding me that we still had so much work to do, I couldn’t shake the fear that my time with Gaige had come to a staggering end when it’d only just begun.
Thirteen
Gaige
The errant, bone-chilling howls rumbling through the dark woods weren’t enough to keep me from venturing deeper into the Kitska Forest. Nothing was as terrifying as returning to Hireath and seeing Kost again. Not when he didn’t understand. Not like he everdid. For someone so incredibly brilliant, he was also so terribly dense.
Scowling, I kicked aside a stray branch and kept going, ignoring the swirling, angry shadows that clung to my every move. I couldn’t get them to disperse. They were relentless, flanking my arms and legs and wrapping around my fingers. I hated their cool touch.
You didn’t before.
I bit back a wordless shriek of frustration. When Kost had summoned his shadows and sent one gently curling around my arm, my knees had gone weak. I’d longed to feel more. It’d felt so personal, as if I’d somehow been granted permission to see a private part of Kost’s life. There was nothing frightening about those dark tendrils. If anything, they’d excited me. They whispered of hope and possibility and even something deeper. Something I dared not name, especially now.
