Page 122 of Ashen Wings

Her words barely register. All I can hear is my own pulse, wild, and frantic. I take a step toward the rubble. If need be, I’ll claw at it until my bare fucking hands shred. I’m not leaving Jace behind.

Saphine’s torch flares to life again with a flick of flint. A quick hissing spark, then a bright crackle of light, illuminates the cavern. Save for the room to breathe, it’s nothing but rock. Slick, greyish stone and utter stillness.

Movement shivers in the dust.

Isra’s blade is out before I take another step. A silhouette forms in the haze—broad shoulders and a staggering limp from hauling weight. My lungs nearly collapse, just as the tunnel did.

Jace emerges first, coughing, coated in sea-slime and chalky dust. One arm is hooked under another’s body weight, half dragging, half carrying them. Thank the fucking gods.

The old world scent of yarrow and herbs slams into me.

Finnick.

His hood is gone and shredded and his long grey hair is matted with dusty sweat. Under the smeared blood painting his face, he looks so much older. He’s frailer than I remember, but the ruthlessness lurking under his pale, parchment-thin skin is still there. I feel it in my chest, down my back, through my veins.

Jace’s chest heaves. “He was pinned,” he grunts and hauls the old mercenary toward us. “If it weren’t for me, he would’ve bled out, too.”

“I had it under control,” Finnick snarls and shrugs out of Jace’s grip with a sharp wince. “You rushed in like an overeager pup, young man.”

Either Finnick is delirious or the dust blinded his vision. To speak to the King of Shadow in such a manner…well, it’s not like Finnick. The old man I know would be groveling at Jace’s feet for any opportunity of favor.

Jace bristles. “I believe a thank you is in order, you decrepit⁠—”

“Jace.” My voice stops him cold.

Finnick’s gaze snaps to me, and everything inside goes silent.

It’s the same look he’s always had—sharp enough to slice, familiar enough to truly wound. His fierce eyes drag over me, cataloging every flinch and tremble, and I curl my shaking hands into fists.

“Well,” he rasps, straightening as much as his injuries allow. “There she is.”

He offers no greeting, nor surprise, like he’s been expecting me to step out of the dark all along, and I suppose he has. The tracking link between us hums throughout my body like a relieved sigh.

My mouth is dryer than sand. “Finnick.”

He wipes the blood from his cheek and studies me with that stomach-churning mix of appraisal and ownership. Still, a little sliver of relief strikes like a chord in my chest. He’s alive and breathing…for now, at least, with the death glare Jace throws at him.

“Thought you’d be dead by now,” he mutters.

A laugh bubbles from my chest, sharp and humorless. “Likewise, old man.”

Finnick smirks. “Takes more than a cave-in to put me down, little rat.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Jace places himself between us.

Finnick’s gaze flicks to him, and something beyond recognition shivers in his irises. “Well, well, Nova, you’ve managed to win the favor of the midnight heir.” He clears his throat. “Had I known my rescuer of such stature…forgive my rudeness.”

Jace flashes his canines. “Cut the shit, Finnick Derald. You’re lucky I don’t rip your throat out myself.”

“I hate to break this conversation up” —Saphine clears her throat— “but we should keep moving. These tunnels are still quite volatile after the cave-in.”

I nod and look to Finnick. “King Ashborne has agreed to pay out my debt, Finnick. You don’t own me anymore, nor will you ever again.”

“Nova Lindwen, trading one contract for another? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Tangy, metallic rage coats my teeth. “Jace does not own me, Finnick. I’m free to go when the job’s done.”

But do I truly want to leave? To fade into the faction and live a quiet life far from Jace and the pieces of my heart he’s stolen? I can’t think about it right now. Not when I’m facing the confrontation I’ve waited a lifetime for.