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It’s Octavia.
Then there’s a snarl, and Octavia’s body drops down nextto me. There’s complete and utter terror in her eyes for the brief moment I see them still alive. Then they go lifeless, and I see the blood gushing from her throat, from the chunk of flesh torn from her.
And I see Cyrus.
Fifty
My heart poundsas I struggle to my feet, coming face-to-face with Cyrus. He’s a mass of seething energy, his face contorted with rage. His eyes are full of fury, but beneath that raw emotion, I sense more—a deep sadness that cuts me to the core.
Blood trickles down from his mouth, leaving behind a stark reminder of the violence he just committed.
His intense gaze moves to me, and he rushes forward to check the cuts and bruises on my face and arms. “Kira,” he says, his voice cracking with emotion.
All the pain and worry and betrayal floods out of me, and I fall into his arms, letting him hold my bruised body, folding me against him until it hurts. Then he pulls back and examines my face again.
“She hurt you.” His voice sounds fragile, like it pains him to even say the words.
My heart soars. Hearing that he cares, knowing what we had between us was real, means everything. If only I could livein this moment and forget everything that has happened. Octavia’s attack, her confession, the danger that surrounds us.
And Cooper.
I pull away from Cyrus and hurry over to Cooper. “We need to help him! Octavia slammed him against the rocks.”
Cooper’s long body is stretched out across the pebbles. I kneel down and place two fingers under his chin, feeling for a pulse and finding it. “Oh, thank God. He’s alive.”
Cyrus joins me, checking Cooper’s injuries. “He’s suffered a head injury. We need a healer—”
“Darling brother, what on earth are you doing playing with children?”
I look up to see a girl of otherworldly beauty walking down to us. She elegantly lifts her purple dress to keep the hem from dragging along the pebbles.
“The boy needs help,” Cyrus says. “Don’t just stand there. Do something.”
Anastasia glances up towards the castle. “Oh, I’m not going back in there. Do you think I’m stupid, little brother?”
She chuckles before leaning against a rock. Her long chestnut hair hangs loose below her shoulders. Golden cat-like eyes narrow above her long, straight nose. The word I would use for her attitude is nonplussed, like all of this is beneath her.
“Is this her? The girl who has bewitched you?” She flicks a hand in my direction. “Not very pretty. No offence.”
“Shut up, Ana,” Cyrus snaps.
“I’ll go to the castle,” I say, standing. “You both should be gone by the time I come back with a healer. We don’t want the word to get out about you both.”
“How are you going to explain this?” Anastasia lifts an eyebrow in amusement. “The headmistress has had her throat torn out. Who could have done that? Little oldyou?”
She laughs directly in my face.
My cheeks burn. “I’ll think of something.” I turn to leave when my stomach drops. Apollo Finn is rounding the corner. “Shit.”
I quicken my pace, hoping I can get to him before he sees Octavia, but his strides are much longer and faster. His face pales when he sees the headmistress dead on the pebble beach.
“Uh-oh,” Anastasia says. She stands up straight, finally paying attention.
Cyrus’s demeanour alters too. He positions himself closer to me, trying to get between me and Apollo, but I dash forward.
I just need a moment to explain everything. “Wait,” I call, staring directly at Apollo. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Octavia!” he shouts, beginning to run. When he reaches her, the confusion and hurt in his expression tug at my heart. He crouches low and places a hand on her cheek.
