Page 96 of Dream Reaper

If she had indeed inherited the family curse, then she was the monster he thought she was. And she wasn’t just going to get him killed…she would be responsible for killing him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not knowing what else to say. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Truly, I didn’t.”

He turned his face away and stared into the bonfire, his expression empty. It was as if she hadn’t just stolen his energy but also his will to live. His will to fight. Was that the truly wicked thing about her family’s curse? That it stole hope?

Because she’d certainly taken that and more from Jerrid.

You didn’t do it on purpose.

So, Dragon was back, was he? She’d felt him slip away and knew he’d been in Jerrid’s mind, trying to console him, trying to explain. His thoughts had become so entangled with hers, she didn’t have to ask. She just knew what he was doing.

“We need to figure out a way to stop it,” Ava said, ignoring the dragon. “We need to break the tie between us.”

Jerrid snorted but didn’t look away from the fire. “You mean, all the ties, right? Because you’ve got us tangled up in more than one. There’s that blood promise you did, and then Dragon head-hopping around like he’s at the market, and now this family curse of yours. How exactly do you intend to sever all that?”

Her mouth went dry. She’d forgotten about the blood oath. That’s what had started all of this.

“And then there’s the shadow in my head too. Why don’t you all just divvy me up and take what you want?”

Ava’s spine stiffened. “The shadow is in all of our heads, not just yours.”

“Maybe, but I’m the weakest link. And predators always go for the weakest one in the pack.”

“That isn’t true…”

Jerrid shifted to frown at her, his expression guarded. “Isn’t it?”

“This is all my fault,” she blurted. “I was just trying to help, but I only made things worse.”

Like always.

She hunched her shoulders and stared down at her lap, wishing she could make herself smaller, so small she would just disappear.

Maybe everyone would be better off if she just left, if she never returned to Eroth to continue making things worse under the guise of helping. But what about her brother? He’d already lost their parents. She wasn’t sure he could survive losing her, too.

And oh, how she would miss her gardens and the cats…

Hands settled on her shoulders. Ava didn’t look up, unable to face him. Rough fingers caught her chin and tilted it upward.

“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. Dragon was my problem long before he became yours.”

And that right there is the problem, Dragon grumbled wearily. I’m not a problem.

“Yes, you are,” Jerrid muttered to the side, and Ava realized that somehow Dragon had spoken to both of them at once. “You’ve always been the problem.”

“No.” Ava peered into Jerrid’s dark face, searching for something she could work with, something she could use to convince him. “Dragon isn’t the problem. The friction between you is the problem. You saw what I could do when I worked with him, when I allowed him to work through me. If you would just accept him⁠—”

“And let him run amok to ruin my life and everyone else’s?” Jerrid jerked away from her, his hands falling away.

“He wouldn’t be running amok if you make this right.”

He shook his head, avoiding her gaze.

“Jerrid,” Ava began, leaning up on her knees so that she could get closer to him. “Dragon is a part of you, and you need to embrace that. You’ve broken yourself, and him. And you need to put yourself back together, or none of us stand a chance. I can’t fix this without you. And we can’t fix it without him. We need him.”

She dared to rest her hands on his knees, trying to get him to look at her, to see her. To see her intentions, her desire to make this right, to fix what they had both broken so badly…

You didn’t break this, Dragon said wearily. We broke it long ago.