Dull magenta eyes blinked up at me, lids heavy and irises fogged over as life seeped out of them. Crimson stained the front of her dress, spread across her chest, and matted the long strands of her hair. I looked for the source of it, only finding one slice to her arm. It didn’t appear deep, but—there was too much blood.
“Not him,” she exhaled.
Gently, I turned her face toward me. “What?” I whispered, but her eyes slipped shut again.
“Kakias.”
I glared at Barrett for only a second, spinning to carry Ophelia toward the palace. I called for Santorina, and someone yelled that she was in her workshop. The prince followed, eyes half-crazed and dirt smeared on his cheeks, like he’d actually been fighting. We tore down the steps, my heart rattling its cage as loudly as ever.
“Tell me everything,” I barked.
Barrett recounted an absurd tale of seeing a flash of bright light that led him to the Rapture Chamber, where apparently his mother was completing a ritual he didn’t fully understand. He claimed she’d used Ophelia’s blood to become immortal and tried to kill the woman in my arms. I ground my teeth together at his lack of detail.
He saved her, I reminded myself. That much was clear. And if Santorina could heal her now, I’d have to thank the bastard.
We burst into Rina’s workshop, the place overrun by frenzied warriors tending to the injured. The door to the garden was thrown open and people ran in and out, carrying blankets, bandages, tonics.
“Santorina,” I barely breathed. Desperation cracked my voice.
Rina’s head snapped up. Her gaze fell to Ophelia, who rolled her eyes to the side and tried to crack a smile.
“Hi, Rina,” she wheezed before her lids fell shut again.
“Fucking hell,” Rina gasped, horror dropping her jaw. “Put her there.” She pointed to a cot in the corner and asked Barrett to recount everything again. He rushed through it, giving only the necessary details of his mother’s magic and the wound on Ophelia’s arm.
Now that I’d gotten Ophelia into Rina’s care, hearing the explanation a second time made me nauseous.Immortality. We’d never considered anything of the sort. It changed everything.
But we’d worry about that later.
First, we needed to heal the weakened woman before us. Seeing her on the brink of death, not knowing if she’d survive it—Spirits, anger flared through me. She may not be mine anymore, but I would always protect her. I made a promise to whatever hands of fate controlled us that I’d never see her like this again.
When Barrett finished speaking, Rina promptly told everyone to leave, wanting quiet as she worked.
As I stood, I brushed Ophelia’s hair back from her face.Until the stars stop shining, I whispered to the Spirits, begging them to bring her back.
A weak hand grazed my wrist, her attempt to grab me barely a flutter.
“Where’s Tol?” She blinked up at me, fighting to keep her eyes open.
My heart broke in that moment. Not because I was jealous that I wasn’t the one she wanted, but because I didn’t have an answer for her.
From my perchon the edge of the balcony of my father’s ruined office, legs swinging above the land below, the afternoon looked peaceful. Onthis side of the palace, overlooking empty mountains, you’d never guess the destruction the city had faced only days ago.
Boots thudded behind me, but I didn’t expect to see Barrett emerge from the doorway.
“Are you responsible for the redecorating?” He raised a brow.
I looked over his shoulder, at the papers and fragments of glass and marble still littering the ground, and laughed. It was a sound I hadn’t made in a long time, but I’d been feeling lighter since sneaking sleeping tonics from the Bodymelders’ store. In the aftermath of the battle, they hadn’t noticed.
“I’ll clean it up eventually.” I shrugged.
“Don’t do it on my account.” The prince—no, I supposed he no longer had that title now that he’d cut ties with his mother. The former Engrossian heir walked up to the stone ledge and swung his legs over beside me.
We sat in silence for a while, and I considered everything that tied us together. From the tangible fact of our shared blood to the invisible scars of betrayal and abandonment left on our hearts. We’d both been wrecked by our father, and Barrett had been—well, the woman who birthed him was hardly a mother.
“Do you think she ever truly loved him?” The words burst from me before I could stop them. They’d been plaguing me for days. After Vale had told us of her scattered vision of Kakias and her inhumane ritual, what she’d wanted from Ophelia, gathering ingredients from around the continent, and Barrett told us what he’d seen, we’d pieced together Kakias’s repugnant plan. Since then, I’d been wondering how my father had agreed to it, what she said or did to convince him.
Absently, I ran my fingers over his dagger where it hung on my belt. He may have been a warped man at his end, but there had once been good in him—or so I liked to believe. I didn’t want to consider what it said about me if only soiled blood ran through his veins.
