Once, the words—spoken so beautifully, soearnestly—would have burrowed beneath my skin, wrapped around my heart. As someone never chosen, but always sacrificed, I understand why so many have fallen beneath the spell of his promised love. He makes it sound so easy; he makes it sound like a relief.
True love is neither of those things. It is holding on when you should let go. It is crawling; it is bleeding. It is gorgeous wreckage and holy sacrifice. It is preciousbecauseit hurts; because it is fought for.
Despite how Niko and I ended, I will forever be grateful to him for teaching me that pain is not something to run from. It exists to define the beauty, to make us appreciate the comfort.
“Can you feel it, Willa?” Pan’s whisper sends goosebumps scattering over my arms. “The innocence of their dreams. The raw power that exists when you believe anything is possible.”
“I don’t need their magic. Anything I imagine comes true. There isn’t anything they could dream that I couldn’t create myself.”
The Aeternalis’ smile is condescending. “Your imagination has been stunted by lifetimes of adulthood. With every passing moment, your power diminishes, simply by the act of living.”
I stare at him, willing expression impassive even as his words brush against the same raw fear that bloomed in the Hollows. I am only queen because of my magic; what if it is something that can be taken from me? What if it’s something I canlose?
As if he senses my sudden anxiety, Pan smiles wider and turns on his heel. “Come, cousin. Let’s have a drink. There is much to discuss.”
Chapter ten
We sail until the sun kisses the horizon, the faint pink glow of morning bleeding upward to meet the night. While the wards on land are tempestuous—gaping open one moment and falling closed the next—the ones at sea appear every morning where water meets sky and night meets dawn.
Sam and I had barely survived sailing through one such ward at the edges of the violet sea in Somnya. We’d been on a makeshift raft for two days when we were set upon by a wild storm. The air fizzled with electricity, the wind coaxing the waves so high, we were certain we’d never see light again if dragged beneath them.
We thought ourselves doomed until we realized it wasn’t a squall at all, but a precipice of possibility. And though the ward had nearly ripped our raft in half as it sent us careening into a foreign sea, we’d laughed wildly in the face of death as the thrill of adventure raced in our veins.
The same sort of storm looms before Wendy and I now, angry and churning above the water. Lightning sparks over the sky,and the howl of wind is deafening even from this distance. I’m no Darling, but I feel the energy of the ward in the hum of my blood. This time, it isn’t the draw of magic nor the effervescent freedom simmering in the air—it is the pull ofhome.
In all my centuries, both in Somnya and Letum—on the mainland, and in the many worlds beyond—I never felt its call. But now, it pulses through me in warm waves, both a compulsion and a salve.
I know where I belong now, and it isn’t the sea.
The ice of death spreads through my heart at the thought, ready to cut down anyone who stands in my way.
The wind is freezing as we reach the edge of the storm, the power of it stealing the air from my lungs as more lightning crackles overhead. Wendy kills the engine and the small boat rocks, but I hardly notice as I gaze up at the wall of magic and embrace the heated adrenaline that’s begun to pump through me.
Finally.
After so many long months, I can nearly feel the warmth of the black sand of Letum on my skin; nearly taste the sweet air.
“Nik…”
Wendy’s voice is an unwelcome interruption from my thoughts, and irritation rankles against the back of my neck as I draw my gaze back toward her. Beneath the soft light, she looks like the same woman I met all those centuries ago—streaks of dawn color her blonde hair a pretty pink that matches the shade staining her full cheeks—but I hold none of the gentleness in my heart I once did.
I’d hid my shadows from her, expecting her to break like a porcelain doll if I showed her so much as a glimmer of my true self. I’d contorted myself into the man she wanted, never pausing to examine what it was thatIwanted.
I know now, and it is not gentle. It is fierce and violent and makes my heart bleed out over and over.
“What?” I bite out, not even bothering to keep the annoyance from my tone.
Wendy worries her bottom lip, like she’s gathering the courage to speak. “You—you may not love me anymore…”
My eyes stray to the blood still staining her clothes. “Clearly.”
That lip wobbles again. “But…I still care for you.”
Somehow, I refrain from scoffing, as she goes on, “And because I do, I just have to say again…you don’t have to go back. You can stay here, and live freely. Without pain.”
Her brown eyes shine, pleading with me to see reason as they’ve done so many times before. But that’s always been the difference between her and I—she lives her life between the lines of reason, and I’ve only ever lived mine to shatter them.
“Pain is my familiar, Wen,” I reply quietly. “It has made me who I am.”
