You are mine to chase, to fight with.
“Youare Everett.” Finnian uncurled his fingers from Cassian’s collar and stepped back.
Cassian reached out and caught him by the forearm. His fingers dug into his skin tightly, as if he may float away. “What is my name, Finnian? Myrealname.”
The tender sound of his own name on Cassian’s lips roused something within. He could feel whatever it was pushing out of the casket it was buried in.
His name was Cassian—or Everett, he was sure—but wasn’t. Cassian hadn’t clarified and Finnian didn’t know what he was searching for in his memories. A moment hidden somewhere? Because of the curse? Or because of something Cassian did? He’d said he never should’ve donewhat?
Finnian’s mind strained the more he pushed to reflect and remember, activating the buzz to resound at the crown of his skull.
No, no, no.
He yanked his arm free from Cassian. His touch, the sensation, his eyes reaching down and coaxing him—it was too much.
“I—” A stab prodded in the center of his brain, jarring down his spine.
He cringed and hunched over, his palm coming up to his forehead.
You break everyone you love.
Cassian supported him by the hold on his arm. “Finny,” he blurted out, distressed.
If you must call me by a nickname, I would prefer it to be that, rather than Little Nightmare.
A cold sweat lined Finnian’s brow. The smoke in the air lingered. It stuck to his cheeks, his neck. A queasiness rolled in his stomach.
When can I return to see you again?
The memory glitched in the back of his mind against the ringing.
Whenever you wish.
He could see it—laying in a bed of satin, their bodies intertwined, Cassian perched up on an elbow, gaze glittering down at him, the room dark, quiet, with flecks of shimmering particles suspended around them, Cassian’s laughter fluttering his heart, the sound like the bow stroke of a viola. An insatiable longing, a tender devotion, an eternal affection embedded in Finnian’s skin, dissolving into his blood, seeping down into his marrow until he was made of Cassian and Cassian alone.
I like the way it sounds on your lips.
“Cassius,” Finnian whispered. “Your real name is Cassius.”
The barrier encasing his mind fractured, and his memories burst forth like a raging ravine.
Part Two
Such Beautiful Sorrow
19
LET ME SEE YOU
Cassian
The Past
Fresh casualtiesof the war crawled out of the River of Souls every day. Enough to provide a population decrease within the Mortal Land. Between the war and Finnian’s vow to only revive souls within the territory of his new city, Cassian sent Mavros to halt Malik’s killings.
Nathaira, alongside the Errai, greeted the souls emerging from the River. Other Errai guided souls from the mortal realm and distributed them in the Land. Cassian toggled between the two wherever he was needed most.
When executioners escorted in new deities assigned with punishments, Shivani would torture them for a certain length of time—as a welcome to Moros—and then call Cassian once they were settled into their designated sector of the prison. He would craft an illusion, a personalized nightmare, while deciding on their punishment.
