“What good is love when it ends in blood?” Roman says. “What good is power when there is nothing left of the world? What good is magick when all it does is burn and destroy?”
They stare at each other but say nothing else. Galen has warped his own mind into believing that what’s done to the Enchantresses is for Roman’s own good and not for himself. For his desire to be the best. To avenge his sister. I fight to keep my eyes open.
Just a little longer. Stay awake a little longer.
“Sorin!” Sam’s voice lights a flicker of hope in my chest. She’ll be here any moment. She will be here, and all will be okay. Tallulah will help heal me and Elora will?—
Come on, Sam. Please hurry.
I reach my hand for Roman, for one last chance to keep him here with me, but I’m too late.
Galen drags him by his weak arm toward the trees. Roman doesn’t fight him, and I’m not surprised. They have burned the world hand in hand in the name of love, even if it’s one that is virulent and hopeless.
My head is heavy as I roll onto my side. Galen turns, meeting my eyes. His steps falter for a moment before he’s slipping through the trees with a shattered Roman in tow.
My eyes are heavy, fighting to stay open, and when they finally close, a small swatch of yellow is the last thing I see before my vision goes dark and the world around me quiets.
Mother be damned, I really do hate silence.
Thirty-Nine
Samaria
Ruse has beenat my heels since the moment Sorin left. Biting gently, pulling my cloak, and when I finally conceded, she sprinted from the Jade Guild barking at the puppies behind us.
She now leads the way up a small hill, the four wolves running beside me. It’s only been a few miles but with the rain and the mud, the terrain has been torturous. I stop for a moment to catch my breath.
The puppies stop as well, but Ruse does not. She disappears over the edge of a small hill just as a wave of fog begins to settle over us.
“Sorin!” I shout breathlessly, weaving around fallen branches and knotted roots, the fog limiting my visibility.
Hati, Skoll, and Grey lead the way, Rook stays at my side, keeping pace with me. I curse myself for not training the last few weeks as I make the final descent down the hill, the burning in my lungs a momentary distraction from the erratic beat of my heart.
My mind drifts to Agnes as Rook and I stumble over another knotted branch. I right myself, dusting off my breeches. Letting my mother leave without me had been one of the most difficultdecisions, but with Tallulah, Evren, and the twins joining her to the Onyx Guild, I suppose she’s more protected than ever.
Smoke fills the air below us, scorched trees and burnt earth come into view but there’s something else tugging at my middle.
Ruse howls, the sound breaking the eerie silence of the forest as I slide down the rest of the hill. Wiping my hands clean of mud, I rush toward the wolves. They stand in a half circle, bouncing lightly on their feet. But what stops my breath is the sight of a spirit in their mix.
Her red hair is faint, her skin glowing much like Elwyn’s, and when I approach, she doesn’t turn to me. Flicking my wrists up, I open the portal between us, giving her the option to speak but as I do, she dissipates so quickly I don’t have the chance to pass a message.
As I join the rest of the wolves, I drop to my knees. “Sorin!”
Blood covers the ground beneath him, his eyes have gone glassy and his lips dry and pale, and when I glance to his chest, it is frozen. Still. Unbeating and unmoving.
“No, no, no” I whisper, placing his head in my lap.
“No.” I press my hand to his chest, hopeful to find a beat there and when it is vacant I choke on a sob. All the resentment I’ve felt for him the last few weeks mocks me. How silly it all seems now.
Acid burns my throat as I crumple forward, encasing his body with mine. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, the words sticking to my tongue as if I don’t deserve to say them aloud.
Leaves tumble past us but not as cold as one would expect from this time of year. Warm. Comfortable. Tearing my eyes from Sorin, the forest transforms before me. The sun peeks through a somber sky and with it, the clouds disperse, leaving nothing but milky gray. The wind whips again, this time creating a tunnel of leaves and branches around the two of us. The wolveshowl, but it sounds so far away. As if they’ve been transported somehow. Or we have.
My head dizzies from the spinning leaves. From the lack of movement in my brother’s chest. From the devastation I know this will bring my mother. I grip him tighter, holding onto his body as if I can somehow change this.
There’s a certain silence that only happens right after death. Thick and tense, as if the world around us has paused, but the leaves continue spinning, trapping us inside. Reminding me that while my brother is dead, the world continues.
And how unfair is it? That the forest dares to breathe and live while he can no longer.
