It was an apology.
“Years from now…” Irene extended her arms, the magic vibrating violently beneath her skin, tearing apart her flesh as if it were nothing but mounds of dust. Her eyes filled with a blazing light, a golden glow that swallowed the whites of her eyes. “…when you tell this story…make sure to mention how cool I looked, okay?”
Masika stepped forward.
“Irene, DON’T—”
By the time Masika lunged for her—it was too late.
49
IRENE
In the end, Irene Manette Bamford would find exactly what she was searching for. Not power. Not glory. But something intangible—a concept so ridiculous, so nonsensical, that when the magic exploded through her chest, splitting her atoms in two, ripping apart her consciousness, the only thing she could do was stand there…smiling.
She understood it clearly now. That thing that had always evaded her. The idea that had always seemed so hazy and out of reach. It wasn’t power she craved. It wasn’t glory.
It was connection.
It was fuckinglove.
She laughed. Somewhere, a voice called out to her. Warm hands gripped her face.
Irene. Don’t do this. Don’t you dare leave me.
But that was the thing. Irene wasn’t going anywhere. Not really.
Because in that moment, Irene Manette Bamford was the very stars themselves. She was the infinite cosmos. The light of the moon. She was the whisper of the rain. The gentle kiss of wind.
She was—and forever would be—everything.
50
MASIKA
Ashes. That was what was left of her best friend. A pile of ashes.
Masika burrowed her hands deeper, searching…but there was nothing there. Nothing left of Irene.Come back, Masika begged, tears blurring her vision, a half scream, half sob tearing out of her throat.
And then she felt it. Nestled beneath. Like a seedling sprouting from the dirt.
The ring felt cold against her hand. Masika raised it higher, lifting it toward the rays of silver light flickering through the branches. As she placed the ring upon her palm, it hummed, a searing current shooting down her forearm and through her limbs.
Fear struck her first. Had Irene’s sacrifice been in vain? Had the ring notactuallybeen destroyed?
But no…this ring was different.
It wasn’t Mateo’s. And it wasn’t Silas’s.
Engrained upon the silver band was neither of their names.
Masika Sallow.
She stared at the thin grooves, reading out her name. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly…
A gust of wind blew Masika’s curls out of her face. Something surged inside her. It was a million souls reaching for her.Embracing her. Calling out to her. She felt the seams of the afterlife…could practicallyseethem.
How had she not seen them before?
