“I’m proud of you.” She flashed the classic Vincienzo grin that carried more than her words.
“If you win this for us, maybe I’ll return the sentiment.” Tol grinned right back. She rolled her eyes, and Tol watched the only family member who had ever bothered to show him love charge into a fray of singing blades and bloodshed.
Santorina pulled her hair into a ponytail, saying she and Esmond would prepare the infirmary for the imminent influx of patients. Before they ran off, though, I grabbed my friend’s hand. She turned her dark, concerned eyes on me.
“Wait,” I said, needing one more moment with the people I loved most in the world. I tugged her back to the small huddle we’d formed. “No matter what happens tonight, I am grateful to have you all fighting by my side.”
My sister was quiet beneath Erista’s arm as my gaze met hers, but she managed to crack a smile of encouragement. She’d seen and survived horrors that no seventeen-year-old warrior should have to face. Though it went against my very nature to admit it, I couldn’t protect her from the battle below. From the heartbreak we’d both face when this was over.
I took a breath, eyes flashing over Jezebel and Santorina,Cypherion and Malakai. Tol’s warmth pressed into my back, his hand supporting my waist. I looked up at him over my shoulder, barely able to breathe past the emotion in my throat. Quickly, I faced the group.
“I am grateful the Angels placed us in each other’s lives. Though they seem to think I am a pawn for their schemes and curses, they blessed me by gifting me your love.”
Weapons clashed in the city, and it was all I could do to force away images of my friends beneath them. Nothing could happen to them. I’d lost too much, fought for too long, defended those I loved with every breath in my exhausted body…I didn’t think I could rebuild myself again. I’d lost enough in this life, and no more names would be added to the list I mourned.
“We’re grateful to follow you, Revered,” Cyph swore, drawing his weapons.
“Believe in the Angels,” Tol began, squeezing my hip.
“Be guided by the Spirits,” Jezebel added, and my chest tightened.
“And align with the stars,” Malakai finished, bringing the tears in my eyes dangerously close to spilling over again.
“Stay true,” I muttered.
One by one, the group around me dissolved, scampering into the bloodshed, weapons raised to the heavens.
Before joining them, I turned to Barrett and Dax where they’d been lingering on the outskirts of our goodbye. “You have to choose.”
“We chose long ago,” the heir answered without missing a beat.
“You know what this means.”
The Engrossians exchanged a glance. “We’re on the side of life, Ophelia,” Barrett said, expression tight. And I understood. They weren’t choosing between Engrossian and Mystique—their people or mine. They were choosing to fight for everyone that deserved to live.
The two charged after the others and were swallowed up by smoke.
Then, it was me and Tol. His hands came up to cup my cheeks.
“Be careful,” I whispered, biting down on my lip to stop it from trembling. Why was I always forced to say goodbye to him?
“You don’t need to worry about me, Alabath.” He tugged my lip from between my teeth and ran his thumb across it.
“I know, but?—”
He pressed his mouth to mine, drowning my concerns. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against my lips. “We have unfinished business.”
I pulled back to see a familiar, taunting glint in his eye. Even amid the fighting, my stomach swooped.
“In the mood for revenge, Vincienzo?”
Tolek grinned. “There she is.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Ophelia
Smoke stungmy eyes as I charged through the streets, ash clinging to my skin along with the gore that sprayed through the air.
