My confession hangs in the air, settling around us like a layer of fog. Zadyn silently gets to his feet. I watch as he lowers himself to his knees before me.
“You are not cold.” Taking my face in his hands, he forces me to look at him. “You’re scared. There’s a difference.”
“Why don’t you yell at me?” I shake my head, bewildered. “Why don’t you tell me I’m a shit person, that I’m selfish and spoiled? Why don’t you tell me that I’m a terrible friend? Why are you so understanding?”
“Because I know you don’t mean it,” he says simply, brown eyes searching mine. His thumb skims up and down my cheek in the tenderest way.
In a way I don’t deserve.
“You should hate me,” I whisper, tears rolling down my face and onto his fingers. “I’ve hurt you so many times. I’ve saidthings I should never say. I...I’m the reason your parents are dead.” My voice cracks as the guilt grips me violently.
“I could never hate you.” He lifts off his heels, bringing his eyes level with mine. “Not even if you hurt me every day for the next thousand years. You could drive a dagger straight through my heart, and I will still be here—I willstilllove you.”
The world seems to shift beneath my feet at the mention of that word.Love.It cracks something in my chest, thaws something hard in me.
His hands continue to sweep over my wet cheeks as my fingers glide over his wrists. I throw my arms around his neck and sob, soaking his shirt with my tears. He pulls me into his lap and gently rocks me, smoothing one hand over my back and cradling my head in the other as the tears gush from my eyes.
I eventually still against him, drained of energy and water. He gets to his feet, with me still in his arms, and carries me over to the bed, softly laying me down and pulling the covers over me. When he starts toward the door, I catch him by the sleeve.
“Stay.”
I know it’s selfish of me to ask. And yet, I can’t stop the word from escaping my lips. His gaze slides between me and the waiting door. Then, as if ending some unspoken debate, he runs his hand over my hair and shifts before my eyes. The small white cat standing in his place leaps onto the bed with ease. I curl up on my side with him nestled in the crook of my arm. My hand smooths down the length of his soft coat until I fall asleep.
* Cue:I love you, I’m sorryby Gracie Abrams
29
Two weeks. That’s all the king gave me.
They fly by in a blur as Gnorr, Zadyn, and Jace throw an overload of information my way in preparation for the big day. I pray some of it sticks.
Jace and I incorporate more flying lessons into our training, which means more close, wet encounters that threaten to break the promise I made to myself to stay uninvolved. He seems to be in agreement, his focus making him colder and more strategic in our time together.
We work on deflecting and shadow walking, which, to no surprise, proves to be an excruciating challenge. I grasp the idea behind it easily enough, summoning the shadows at will. But I’m only able to jump from one end of a large clearing to another.
“That’s good,” Jace calls from across the expanse. He jogs over to me and passes me a canteen of water. I chug greedily.
“Remind me why we can’t just take a boat to this island?” I glance up, sweating in the morning sun.
“The journey could take two weeks. And crossing theErastin Ocean comes with its own set of challenges. Shadows would be the most efficient way to get there.”
“But you’re coming, right?” I ask.
He nods, taking back the canteen. “Of course.”
“Then I need to practice shadowing with you.”
“You can barely shadow from one end of the forest to the other on your own. You’ll deplete your magic if you bite off more than you can chew before you’re ready,” he cautions, taking a swig of water.
“I’m nowhere near depleted. I can feel my magic. I’m tired, but I’m not on the verge of collapse.”
He sighs deeply. “I’m not in the mood to argue.”
Things have felt strained between us since the day Sorscha saw us heading back to the stables together. Both of us are trying so hard to behave. To keep things strictly professional. Platonic. Student-teacher.
Because that dynamic has always worked out well, a voice inside of me quips.
I push the thought away and straighten, hands on my leather-clad hips. “Then don’t. Let me have my way and we’ll both be much happier for it.” I give him a wide, toothy grin. He rolls his eyes and opens his arms.
