A tremor runs through me. I lose my breath.
One hundred years, stolen. And I might be immortal.
My hands shake in my lap, fingers clutching the blanket, slivers of shadow spilling between them like smoke.
“Do you think…” I try to stop, but the thought’s already there. It’sallI can see.
Prospero’s memory. That robe. That green fucking cloak. And now they’re seeing it too.
“Do you think I was with them?” My voice doesn’t sound like mine, thinner, hollow, drenched in horror.
My vision swims, darkens. I can’t—
“Breathe, mon âme…” Julien’s voice is near my ear. Someone’s hands are on me. “Breathe,” he repeats.
But I can’t.
My lungs burn. My chest aches. My shadows wrap tighter like they’re trying to suffocate the panic away.
Was I born there? Raised by them?
Were my parents a part of it? Weretheymy family?
Did I believe in it? Did I help them?
But then—I ran. In Prospero’s memory. I was running. Being chased.
Why run unless I needed to?
What did they do to me?
Kane drops to his knees, his shadows reaching for mine, trying to break through to me.
I stare at the carpet, focus on a single thread, a fleck of lint. Something tangible. Anything but this.
“We’ll find out,” he says it so surely, like doubt doesn’t exist in his world. “And we’ll repay the suffering tenfold.”
I look up, and meet his unwavering gaze. “But what if…” I try to say, as something warm slips down my cheek. “What ifIcaused suffering?”
He stares at me like the words don’t make sense, like they’re foreign to him.
“You said they followed your father. What if I was like him? What if I believed in it? In them? What if I was just like them?”
“Jasmine—”
“If I was with them for acentury, Kane.” My voice shatters. “Acentury.What if the person I am now… is nothing like the person I was? What if I was evil? A killer? A monster.”
I close my eyes, and there it is again. The Divide. The memory of what I did to my bonds.
I can meld minds. Break them. I almost killed Kane.Allof them.
“I almost killed you.” The words sear on the way out. And in the silence, there’s just the thunder of my heartbeat, and the burn behind my eyes.
The ache in my chest sharpens—twists—and—
I flit.
I run.
