Page 99 of The City Of Fractured Memory

His gaze snaps to me instantly. “How?”

I hesitate, anticipating his reaction. “An audience. We request a formal audience with the Council. All of them, together.”

“No.” The word is sharp, almost a snarl. “You will not walk into that den of vipers.”

I cross my arms. “Why not? Isn’t that the whole point–”

“Because they will kill you.” He paces once, jaw clenched. “They will kill you because you’re close to the answers and because you’re unpredictable, regardless of what the prophecy says.” He turns to me, voice low and heated. “And because I can’t follow you into that chamber. You’re not the only one who’s made an enemy of them. They are clearly on to me. If I set foot in that hall again, they won’t hesitate to kill me too. I’ll end up putting a bigger target on your back.”

I glare at him, fists clenched. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

He steps closer, voice dropping into something rougher. “This is not about ego, Octavia. I am telling you what they are capable of.”

“And I’m telling you I don’t need protecting,” I repeat, softer but unyielding. “Not anymore.”

Riven holds my gaze for a long, tense moment.

Then his expression shifts, not anger or dismissal like I expected, but something darker. Something like fear.

“Octavia…”

My name leaves his lips as a warning. Or a plea. But I set my jaw, my decision unwavering. “If the Codex is with one of them, then facing them is unavoidable. You know that.”

He turns away from me, hands braced on the desk, shoulders rigid. “You’re learning fast about your magic, but you still have so much practice to do. We need to think of another way,” he says, voice strained. “If you go in there alone, you won’t walk out alive.”

I step behind him, running my hand along his strained bicep. “I can handle it.”

He doesn’t turn, so I continue, gentler. “I can use my magic now, enough for me to be able to defend myself. And I have you guiding me, even if you can’t be in the room.”

He breathes out, sharp and quiet. “You think that makes it less dangerous?”

“No,” I admit. “But like I said before, we don’t exactly have a choice. Time has run out. We need to end this, before more people die.”

At that, Riven finally turns to look at me, and there’s something resigned and aching in the set of his mouth.

“And I won’t let you be one of them,” he says firmly. “If you face the Council, they’ll know what you’re up to and everything will be set in motion…there would be no turning back. We find another way.”

Forty-One

Guilt eats away at me aggressively, consuming me until I’m completely overwhelmed by it. I know Stryx will forgive me for going to the morgue without her, but I doubt Riven will be as magnanimous once he discovers I’ve ignored his warning.

I mentally slap myself.

He doesn’t deserve my guilt. Since his part time job as my relentless pen pal triggered the events that led to my dismissal from the Division, I don’t owe him anything, regardless of how my feelings may have softened for him a little.

My mind wanders back to our kiss in the morgue and my face heats.

Okay, maybe they’ve softened a lot.

I actually slap myself this time, earning myself bewildered stares from a couple walking past.

I grimace. Now is not the time to have an internal argument with myself, especially about a man of all things.

Gods, I look insane.

I feel insane.

Maybe the events of the last few days have all been some crazy nightmare, and I’m still in a deep sleep after Mindweaving without my circlet at the second murder…