Doing my best to ignore everything else, I focused inward and began playing the memory in my mind’s eye like I’d done before offering it to Myron.
I conjured every detail of that day. The soft substrate of the training ground on my forehead as I prayed. The vibrations of Tarrin’s footsteps. The timbre of his deep voice filled with concern, urging me to reconsider. How detached I’d been.
I wasn’t sure when it happened, but eventually I’d claimed my rightful place, back arching in searing pain.
The others were still there, their raw emotions layered atop the horrors of that day. To my immense relief, the loop broke, pushing the memory forward until Tarrin and I were on the beach.
I sighed in relief knowing the worst of it was over. The last segment I’d chosen to share came into focus, and I’d be lying if I claimed the raw cut of betrayal was lessened as Thaddeus’ mirage admitted to murdering my parents a second time through.
As the memory faded to black, a great sense of relief washed over me knowing that any second we’d find ourselves back in the ballroom. Safe and far—far—away from the horrors we’d just witnessed.
Only, safety never came. For any of us.
Everyone watched as I was forced to relive the aftermath again. The beach Tarrin and I had found refuge in came into focus, before the memory played out in full. The pain. The awkwardness when he’d washed me off. And most horrifying, Tarrin explaining the twisted link he shared with Thaddeus and Nevander.
Every. Last. Detail on display for all to see.
I was splayed bare in the Summer Court, Thaddeus pulling pleasure from me.
My grandparents claiming me cursed.
A gut-wrenching goodbye to Mrs. E.
Countless memories were shared. Some flashes, some full-on. I tried to stop it. To protect myself from being laid bare for all to see. But the harder I tried, the more invasive the visions became.
The first time I’d used magic as a human, and how it had almost claimed me.
The pain of the first time Thaddeus and I shared magic. The fear. Tarrin’s and my conversation.
Then, in a cruel twist of fate, I found myself back in the training room, utterly alone.
The others had been freed, while I had been left behind, caught in my own personal hell-loop.
It started the same every time, my head on thatdamn floor.
Sometimes it replayed in slow motion. Sometimes in a blink. But it never stopped.
I wasn’t in control of my body in the vision, but that didn’t stop me from mentally screaming for Myron to save me. For anyone to make it stop.
After a time, I gave up knowing no one would come. I did my best to disassociate, only every time I’d fall into blissful numbness, the relived pain when Thaddeus pulled from me brought everything back into focus.
Every. Single. Time.
Chapter 30
Everything
Iawoke to find myself lying on the cool marble tile of the ballroom curled up in the fetal position. Tears stained the ground, reminding me of that day I’d cried myself to sleep on the floor of my room in Thaddeus’ palace.
My eyes were open, but I saw nothing. Felt nothing. I couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. My cheeks were wet. My throat was raw. My body ached to the bone.
I was faintly aware of muffled voices around me. Though they sounded so far away.
Movement pulled my attention, and I could just to focus enough to see Artton laying on the ground, mirroring me. He looked strange. Distorted in a way.
He offered me a small smile which did nothing to hide the truths his eyes held. His mouth moved, but I just stared at him, unable to understand his words.
The commander reached a hand toward me. Then stopped.
