There’s no way something this strong is one-sided, no way I’m the only one who feels like my life has been tossed upside down. Even if she won’t admit it, I saw the way she looked at me after her magic burst out of her. I’m not alone in this, whatever it is. I can’t be.
Resting my head against the stone, I exhale and try to relax. Wren is right, I need to rest. I’ve had time to think and come up with a plan, but no amount of planning will truly prepare us for dealing with the king.
As I drift off to sleep, the last thing I see are piercing violet eyes.
4
ABSOLUTELY FUCKING WONDERFUL
WREN
Grief finds me in late afternoon.
For hours, I’ve been keeping myself occupied while the others rest, actively avoiding all thoughts of Kadyn and Amelia and the gods-damned mess that is my life.
But the problem is, it’s too quiet, and this space is too small.
The twins and Gabriel are fast asleep. I count all the stones, pick at every stray thread in my dress, study all the crates, and even examine the engraved hilt of Gabriel’s sword—from a distance, of course.
And then I run out of things to do.
One moment, I’m staring at the dirt beneath my feet, tracing designs with my finger. The next, a flash of green catches my eye. It’s a stray piece of grass, blown about by the wind, and the color...
It’s identical to Kadyn’s Mark.
I fling my eyes away, but it’s too late. There’s an ache deep in my chest, and then, the box inside me shatters. It isn’t a clean break, nor is it fixable. Everything I’d been avoiding, all the grief I’d shoved down, comes pouring out all at once.
Kadyn’s body flashes through my mind. The lifelessness in his eyes. The blood pooling around him. The way he collapsed, so reminiscent of Amelia’s final moments in the temple.
The Given stick together.
My eyes burn at the reminder of my friends’ deaths. They were so different, yet so much about them was the same. Digging my nails into my palms, I try to distract myself to pull my mind from these dark thoughts. It’s no use.
A tear slides down my cheek, and it opens the floodgates. Salty rivers stream from my eyes. I would sooner be able to bring my friends back from the dead than stop the trails of devastation, hurt, and grief.
They feel never-ending.
A deep, agonizing pain starts in the center of my chest before spiraling outwards. Touching all of me. My arms, my legs, my head, even my fingertips and toes ache. My Mark burns, an exploding star, and a sob crawls up my throat.
I shove my hand over my mouth, smothering the sound of my grief. Wrapping my other arm around my stomach, I hug myself as tightly as I can.
The pain gets worse.
Running, for all its awfulness, allowed me to keep my grief safely locked away.
But now . . .
Now there is nothing to shield me from the pain. Visions of blood and death flash through my mind, each worse than the last.
The way the king’s magic careened towards me. Kadyn’s hands, shoving me away. The green flash that was so reminiscent of the one on Amelia’s Giving Day. My best friend’s scream as the head priestess slashed her silver blade across her throat. Kadyn, falling to my feet as he took the king’s killing blow that was meant for me.
Blood. Crimson rivers cascading from them both.
Pain.
My burning Mark and the blue sparks that hovered above my hand.
The flames.
