“You couldn’t mold Naia. She always fought you. Same with Finnian. But I—?” Marina choked on the syllable. She tried to force it back down, but it clawed like a swollen grape up her throat.
Oh gods.
She’d walked beside her mother, followed her path, and it had led herhere—full of so much regret.
Marina remembered the feeling of being wrapped in her mother’s arms, the dome of the sea cascading in front of them. She trembled in fear of the massive open water that whorled around them like a planet on its axis.
Mother gave her a reassuring squeeze. “My love, it cannot hurt you.”
Marina shielded her face. “It is bigger than me, though.”
“Yes, but that does not make it more powerful than you.”
“It could swallow me up.”
Mother laughed, nuzzling her nose into the side of Marina’s hair. “You are a part of me, just as I am of you. We are resilient, Marina. Nothing can conquer us so easily.”
“I don’t have your power. Or your looks, Mother. Perhaps your best parts missed me.”
Mother playfully tugged the silver strand framing Marina’s face. “This is your proof. Though it may be small, you will always be made from me.” Her opalescent gaze glistened proudly.
Marina’s love overflowed from the chambers of her soul, saturating the wellspring inside of her. Roots took hold, permanent in their grasp.
Always.
Marina blinked at her mother now, the aperture of her memories closing in caustic finality.
They were all lies.
She could see them for what they were now.
That day on the riverbank, running away from the snake. Shadows suffocated the bright sunlight, and Mother’s warm hold turned icy against her skin.
I have you. Always.
No.
She meant:You’re mine. Always. And I will squash this weakness in you.
Under the sea sky, Marina trembled in fear of it crushing down on her.
You inherited the best of me.
Marina hugged herself, the illusion of her mother’s love shattering.
You inherited more of me than your father.
She didn’t know what to do with the fragments.
“Children are fascinating that way,” Mother said, lowering her bound wrist from the bar of her cell. “You were always willing to betray yourself if it meant receiving my affection. Unlike Naia and Finnian, your greatest fear was being unloved. It still is.”
The last of Finnian’s words slipped back into her mind then:Mother does not love you. She loves your power, what you can do for her. Nothing more.
They were words laced in malice that she refused to believe. Though, the twinge in her chest was there when he’d said it.
She had to hear it from Mother.
“Do you love me?” Marina’s voice trembled. She set her jaw, fighting the metastasis in her throat.
