AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You don’t know what it was like. To have so many choices, infinite possibilities—all the things you could do, and be… and then it was all gone. There was nothing to do, but survive. There was nothing to be, but this.”
“You’re mortal again,” I reminded him.
“That’s right. How are you going to choose now?” he asked. “Between two maimed, human lovers? By how much we’ve given? Do my two fingers count more than his one leg?”
“You idiot,” I said. “I chose you. I keep choosing you, and will do so a thousand more times, until you finally believe me. It’s us, forever.”
“I have nothing to offer you,” he said. “No crown. No elixir.”
“You have nothing I want,” I said. “Except maybe your smile. I’ll take that… and your nose. And, well… all ofthis. You can lose the clothes, though.”
“As you command,” he said, peeling off his shirt with one arm.
“I think I’m going to like this new arrangement,” I smirked, snuggling closer to his bare chest.
“You’re not the only one.”
“Besides, maybe I’m the monster. Nigel cut off two of your fingers. I took five of Steve’s. I didn’t even think about it.”
“You were defending yourself, and the citadel. Just because a rose has thorns, doesn’t mean it’s dangerous. Grip it too tightly and you will bleed.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, after a long pause. “I took the sun away from you.”
“And then you gave it back.”
“I stole your immortality.”
“You broke the curse of my isolation. I’d rather live a lifetime with you by my side, Emily,” he said, raising my chin, “than an eternity without you.”
We drifted off to sleep, our limbs wrapped together, like a puzzle only we could understand. Whatever came next, we could handle it, together.
EPILOGUE
The next month passed quickly. I spent days inside, being sick. Hungover from the nearly fatal amount of elixir I’d consumed. In my absence, the citadel managed to come to an interim peace deal and band together to clean and repair the damage. It would take months to fix everything, but by the time I left the house, at least most of the blood had been scrubbed away.
There were dinners and ceremonies, but I let Tobias take the lead and kept socializing to a minimum. Damien seemed busy as well, but he’d come home every night to tend to me, bringing me dinner and snacks, a movie we could watch together. Sometimes the others visited, but soon I had to say goodbye as the visitors returned to their home compounds. In the weeks that followed, the soldiers focused on clearing and guarding the main roads between the compounds, so people could travel freely.
I’d managed to fulfill my debts, pay what was owed, and things mostly went back to normal. We knew we couldn’t change things quickly, so we did it slowly. I still had no official role, but I didn’t refuse when Damien invited me to Gostras, one of the remaining compounds I’d yet to visit, for some kind of unveiling ceremony.
There was only one more promise I had left to fulfill, my private deal with Augustine. I hadn’t yet told the others, but the bulge in my belly was just starting to show. I expected rumors; a chosen getting pregnant, when the elite couldn’t conceive—the crime my mother had suffered and been punished for, through no fault of her own. But people would assume that it was Damien’s. Maybe because I was renitent, or maybe because he was no longer elite. Or the way we clung to each other, finding every opportunity to hold hands and nuzzle each other’s necks, recharging from each other like a private renewal ceremony whenever we could.
There were conversations to be had, about whose child I was carrying and what would happen to it. But I couldn’t begin to entertain them, not when I’d promised to give it away.
It felt cruel now, a twisted sacrifice after the last battle cries had faded and the bodies had been buried. This new life, this small miracle, felt like the only real thing I’d created, growing inside me, but it wasn’t mine. I felt a protective distance from it, but couldn’t picture its face and was trying not to bond with it, because I already suspected how much it would hurt to be separated.
I thought about bargaining with Augustine, renegotiating our contract from a position of power, but I knew it was futile. Augustine had spent hours trying to make sure I understood the gravity of his deal-making, and he’d be disappointed if I tried to renege on my promises now.
Still, I could make every assurance to keep it safe, protected. Augustine had disappeared after the battle. No doubt he’d organized his own escape, for him and Tate; escorted back to the strip under the cover of darkness, leaving us to clean up the board. I didn’t blame him. This was never his fight, though I wished he’d felt some kind of duty or obligation. We weren’t friends exactly, but it still hurt a little to feel like a transaction completed.
But we’d traded a few text messages since, with Augustine’s men helping Zane set up an inter-compound link. And tonight, I’d invited him to join us, for a reunion of sorts. I felt a flicker of both fear and trepidation. The last few weeks had been full of business and work and meetings. I’d been excused from most of it, but was always encouraged to attend if I wanted. Most days, I’d rather stay inside or play in the gardens with Loralie. She was still pale and withdrawn, and she’d get frustrated walking a new path, clutching my hand tightly. But she seemed eager to explore her other senses. April visited and brought Cosmos, and I heard my sister giggle for the first time in months, since before my choosing, as she rubbed his soft black fur against her cheek.
And Jamie joined us at night, either in the apartment or up at the palace, where Penelope had found him a lightproof room. It felt like my heart was defrosting slowly, and that gave me hope that someday maybe we’d all heal, just enough to keep going, those of us who could.
We were driving this time, in a convoy of fancy cars, during the day. The humans, at least. And Damien, though it was still hard to consider him as one of us. The transition had been difficult for him as well, but after the first week of watermelon, honey and salt water, he’d started to adjust to human food again. He followed behind us on his motorcycle, with Loralie in a helmet that barely fit her. Gostras was a village on a hill, surrounded by puffy green trees with pink blossoms. The fence was built of tall iron slats, but wide enough that hands could be reached through. At our approach, children filled the spaces, waving their arms and smiling. They followed the car into the main square, down a wide road lined with marble statues.
“It feels kind of weird going in through the front gates,” Trevor said over my shoulder.
“No shit,” Luke said. “I think I’m allergic to compounds. Look I’m already sweating.”
