Willa’s shoulders rise as she inhales a slow breath, and when she exhales, her panic dissipates. I know better than to assume it’s gone. Willa is adept at trapping everything inside—barricading her feelings behind her bones and gilding them in steel.
“I’ll think about it,” she finally replies. Without another word, she disappears.
Tiernan rolls his eyes, toeing the box of napkins haphazardly. “Must be nice to just blink out of existence every time you’re in a conversation you don’t feel like having.” He rises to his feet, derelict swans tumbling from his lap. “Do you think we should go after her?”
“You’d probably get stabbed in the throat for your trouble,” I reply mildly. “Which would still be a better use of your time than mangling those napkins.”
Tiernan shoots me a glare, but I hardly notice in the glow of Adira’s feline smile as she gazes between us conspiratorially. For once, I don’t worry whether or not it’s meant for me. I take its warmth, and bury it in my chest. Hope, excitement, and anticipation crackles at the surface of my skin as I return her smile without restraint.
Tiernan lets out a sharp hiss of annoyance. “Not everyone here can read minds!” he shouts, throwing his hands on his hips. “If you two don’t tell me why Willa showed up here looking like a wet dog, I swear I’ll—” He pauses, wrinkling his brow in thought. “I’ll—well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but spitting in your breakfast is at the top of the list.”
I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in months.
“She was in the Crocodile,” Addy answers, wringing her hands together in anticipation.
“And she, what? Tripped and fell in the lake?” he demands.
“I believe she was pushed. By the only person who’s ever been able to push her.”
Tiernan stares at her, a flicker of hope sparking in his eyes as he looks to me for confirmation.
I dip my head. “Our captain…our king…he has returned.”
Chapter eighteen
My mind refuses to settle. No matter how I move—how I twist, how I bend—my thoughts race. They pierce through every bit of calm, every moment of peace. They awaken my magic and my shadow, both of them prodding and pulling until I want to crawl out of my skin.
Skin that no longer feels like my own. It feels like the ice of death and the warmth of hands wrapped around my waist. It feels like everything I’ve lost, and everything still to lose. I want to scratch until I bleed; I want to erase every imprint ofhim.
Niko had once called himself pathetic for wanting me, but I am the pathetic one. He betrayed me, left me alone chained eternally to his island, and still, I crumbled at his feet like a fucking damsel the moment he came back.
I should have known better; should have known his return wasn’t because he ached for me like I ache for him.
He died to escape his pain once; he wouldn’t subject himself to it again forme.It would only be for the same thing it has always been for—his fucking kingdom.
When I tell you I will shred myself apart to take back what’s mine…believe me.
A petty part of me wanted to give him exactly what he wanted. I considered hurling his precious island back into his lap, forcing him to anchor it once more and disappearing to some world far from here. The urge was the echo of an old habit, a reverberation of lifetimes spent running from anything that could hurt me.
But more abiding than my survival is my selfish heart. I’ve fought too hard, clawed and scraped for the little power I’ve gathered. If I surrender it now, what will it all have been for?
Shadowed claws dig into my shoulders, and hunger balloons in my belly. It ricochets through me, a stark reminder that Niko is right about one thing: the island deserves far better than me. Better than someone whose sins are too great to be contained, so they’ve crawled outside of them. Whose malevolence is not satiated by the pain of others, but ignited.
Unease skitters over my skin as I remember the lascivious feel of the Aeternalis’ gaze.Isn’t it lovely,he’d asked, like my sins were sustenance and he was starved.
While Niko—the man who once promised to love every dark part of me—had looked at my shadow with suspicion. With rage. Withdisgust.
Swallowing roughly, I push the memory away and turn toward the sea. The sign of the Pixie’s Hollow tavern creaks softly in the breeze behind me, the unsettling noise heightening my anxiety as I search the horizon for the familiar shape of the Indomnitus. A few vessels shadow the waters, but none are as beautiful or as horrible as Niko’s ship.
Perhaps I should be assuaged that Pan has sailed somewhere, but I find no comfort in it. The Aeternalis may not be human, but I have seen the look in his eyes in so many men during my life. He will not stop until he takes what he thinks he’s owed. I just don’t know whether that’s the island—or me.
For a moment, I consider ducking into the Pixie and drowning my sorrows in a bottle of whiskey, but I nix the idea as soon as it forms. Liquor may help numb my thoughts, but I can’t risk lowering my inhibitions, lest I end up back at Niko’s feet.
The idea of going back to the Lunaedon is not much more appealing. Sam and Tiernan will still be in the Hollow City, and I don’t want to be alone in a palace where every detail speaks to the Carrion King. In the end, I decide to walk in hopes of clearing my head and settling my thoughts.
The shade of the forest is a welcome respite from the intrusive glare of the setting sun. I kick off my shoes, letting my bare toes sink into the cool moss of the path. I breathe in the scent of decayed leaves and moist earth. Will-o-wisps float overhead, some trailing lazily downward like puffs of cotton on an invisible breeze. A few tangle in the damp strands of my hair, while others buzz curiously against the bedraggled fabric of my dress.
Their pleased hum vibrates through me, and cooling a bit of the heat in my veins. I trail my fingers over a bunch of flowers tucked at the base of a giant oak, the tangerine glow of their petals vibrant even in the daylight. I try to focus only on the silky feel of them between my fingers—to revel in the soothing rhythm of the woods, rather than the unsteady beat of my heart and the hunger gnawing at the inside of my ribs.
