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No. I snap the door shut on my mind, the sliver of hope the parasite has managed to wedge between the window and its sill.
My chest aches.
It’s not that I haven’t considered that I won’t be able to have children in this body.
It’s that this seems to be the only reasonable conclusion, and the moment I realized that, I figured there was no use thinking about it any longer.
Since when has pretending gotten me anywhere useful, anyway?
Besides, I don’t deserve that luxury. Not after I took Erida, the little girl from the desecrated village, from her mother’s arms, still clinging to her child in death.
I might not have burned down Erida’s cottage, but I opened the Rip, freeing the monsters that demolished her village, crushing the girl under the weight of her childhood home.
So no. I don’t let myself think about not being able to have children.
Not when I’ve bereaved other parents of theirs.
Still, I know the parasite is less than convinced that my vampirism will allow me the power to absorb it like the fae can absorb the old magic. If it had any question in its mind, it wouldn’t be offering, now would it?
But I allow my mind to wander—just for a moment—letting it stretch its legs out from under the tight leash I’ve kept wound around it.
One last time, I let my mind slip into a world of pretend. A reality I’m aware is out of my grasp. One where the parasite lets me choose my body, and instead of turning me into Cinderella, it just lets me be me. But the me before I died. Or possibly even the me I never was, but would have been if it hadn’t been for Clarissa and Derek and Abra and Madame LeFleur.
In this world, the one that doesn’t exist, I’m the type of woman Nox is capable of loving. The type of woman he doesn’t leave.
I know this world can’t be real, because in this world, he’s not a vampire either, and the two of us have children, just like the dream I used to have…
It’s not real, and I know it’s not real, but the image is so intoxicating, I can’t help but drink.
In the morning, I’ll deal with the hangover of it all, the emptiness in my chest after coveting a life that’s not meant for me.
But for now, I let myself dream.
And when Piper’s breathing becomes shallow and even, her body succumbing to sleep, I keep dreaming.
Even as I pack my bags and whisper a goodbye into the night.
I tug on the bond in my heart, but as always, there’s no one on the other end.
I send the goodbye anyway.
CHAPTER 86
ZORA
As Farin and I make our way across the beach, I keep several paces ahead of him, just out of sight. I figure he’ll assume I’m trying to avoid interacting with him after our conversation last night about his probable plans to murder me.
Let him think what he wants, as long as it distracts him from the truth.
The island has the audacity to be warm today, like it’s mocking me about the chill it blew into the cave last night, like the Fates are reminding me I’m as moldable as a sail in the wind in their hands.
Like all they have to do is make me shiver a bit, and they can send me straight into Farin’s arms, just for their amusement.
It’s growing more and more difficult not to think about how it felt that frigid night, to be tucked into his chest, to feel the strange mingling of danger and safety renewed with each step I take.
But an hour into our traipse across the sand, I stumble across something that wipes all such notions from my mind.
A body.
