“I'm going for a run,” he said.
Mellie sat up. “What?”
He stripped off his jacket and shirt, throwing them onto the ground. She stared at the clothing in shock. Zayne always put things where they belonged, not on the floor. But he didn't care. He wanted to make a mess.
“You're running right now?” She slid off the bed and fell against him, her hands smoothing over his bare shoulders and chest. “Don't you want to spend time together first?”
“I need to run. Now.”
Hurt filled her eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”
Yes. How did she not feel guilty? Zayne pulled his shirt on despite her hands being on him. “Mel, I run sometimes. You know that.”
“Not while I'm dressed like this.” She clambered for the robe she kept in his closet. “I'm mortified.”
“My mom is dead. This isn't about you.”
"It's been a long time even before that."
"I've been busy." While Zayne refused to ever touch her again, she was right. Before today, he'd still avoided her, unable to bring himself to be in this life hedidn't want. To be with her when he didn't want her. When Kira consumed his mind.
Without waiting to fight with her, he left the house and took off running down the sidewalk faster than he should in a residential area. Too fast for a wound that was still healing and bruises that complained. The distraction of pain softened the sound of the boy's skull hitting the ground.
Even so, the teen and his mom haunted his every step.
Time faded from him, and eventually the feeling in his legs. And still he ran. Ran once his body demanded he slow. Ran beyond his district. Ran until he fell against the iron gate of his parents' estate and stared at the dark, empty house. The stab wound hurt more than it had in a week when his father kicked him.
Once inside the gate, Zayne ran again, too exhausted to continue, but too frantic to stop. Finally, he reached his tree and ducked inside, turning on the lights to see the names of the dead.
His heavy breath echoed off the smooth walls. Zayne twisted in a circle until the engravings blurred and the desperation banged around the drum of his chest. The Phaedra rendered Mom impotent, and still she devoted her life to scratching away at him with only her fingernails, refusing to surrender. In her last act of love and defiance, she ran to the most dangerous place in the capital and almost certainly died trying to save Kira's life. The mother and son today may have been a part of whatever Mom set into motion. And Zayne wasn't sure he'd ever find out.
He needed to know.
He needed to know why the enemy massacred his division in Bluehaven and whether the Phaedra knew.
He needed to know if his father tried to fight for change anymore.
He needed to know why Mom died.
For all the unknown, but this much was certain. If his father couldn't stand against the Phaedra, he should have taken them all and ran, not beat them into whatever shape the emperor demanded.
Zayne jerked his tools off the shelf and carved a new name into his memorial, this one written beside the one who started it all. The girl.
With each strike, he repented for fighting the wrong war and for failing Kira so badly that his mom sacrificed her life. This was the only name that could have saved the others written here. At least most of them. It was the person he most needed to lay to rest.
Zayne Riven
He'd leave him behind. Put an end to all this blood.
Zayne wasn't sure who he'd be in the territories, only that who he'd once been was dead. He wasn't sure of the moment it happened, whether it was touching Mom's cold body, or smelling the blood in Kira's cell, or looking into her eyes and knowing he'd give up all other wars for her.
But he had to become a new man.
And now, with his entire body aching, Zayne set to work on the most important name.
Mom
Mom
