“They actually got off their asses?” I say, surprised, because Coda and I have been feeding intel to the Federation charter of the UnBroken, generally encouraging them to get their shit together and do some actual damage. It had seemed like a long shot.
“I’m coming with you!” Presh preemptively cries.
“Absolutely not,” I say.
“No fucking way,” Rath says.
Reck chimes in with, “Under no circumstances are you to leave the protection of —”
“No, darling Precious.” Bellamy’s voice cuts through our protests. “You’ll just distract our brothers. You know they only have so many brain cells to share between them, and they need to move faster than you can move right now.”
Presh’s chin trembles as she looks over all of us, one at a time, settling last on Bellamy. “Okay,” she whispers. “I’ll stay.”
Four
ZAYA
* * *
The door is broken.
I stand there with the crystal water pitcher and tablecloth in hand, swaying on my feet from blood loss and exhaustion, ready to scrub at the runes until my hands bleed … and then I blink. Then blink again.
The latch is just ever so slightly askew. The door is subtly twisted, as if one of the hinges was damaged when the Cataclysm threw his last tantrum.
Still so fucking weak, I drop the pitcher. It shatters on the concrete floor, and water instantly drenches the bottom few inches of the stupid fucking silk dress I’m dragging around after me. Shards of crystal fly, skittering across the floor in all directions. Ready to slice into my bare feet.
My head falls back, and I laugh.
I laugh, completely unhinged.
I laugh until I’m struggling to not fall sobbing to my knees.
Because I know — I know — this is only the first hurdle. If I can even shift the weight of the fucking door …
Yes, enough essence has obviously trickled through the rune wards I managed to compromise with water and blood that my luck has clearly shifted. But only in that way it does when the universe has other plans for me. I know I don’t simply get to go home. I don’t just get to wrap my arms around Presh. I don’t get to crawl into bed with Rought. I don’t get to bond with Rath. I don’t get to even figure out how to come to terms with all the shit Reck has pulled.
I’ve tallied quite the negative balance with the universe, and it’s all due. All at once.
I’m not strong enough.
I’m fucking broken.
Barely on my feet.
I can’t stand against the Cataclysm.
I also know — I know — there are secrets on the other side of this door. Maybe even the final pieces of the puzzle of what happened to my aunt, and what happened for me to lose my connections to my soul-bound mates. I’m not mentally stable enough to uncover those secrets, to discover the truth of it all.
I catch the sobbing laughter in my throat. It hurts. It actually hurts to contain the emotion. But I lift my head nonetheless.
Eyes fixed on the steel-banded door before me, I step through the crystal shards, dragging the wet dress behind me. Cobweb-thin threads of essence stir around my feet, presumably protecting me from the glass though I don’t bother pausing to check.
I guess the universe doesn’t need me to lose any more of my blood. Yet.
I place my hand on the latch, wrenching it up and to the side as I’ve watched the shifters do before me. More essence shifts under my hand. Perhaps called forth by my intent from the dregs hidden deeply within me. Or perhaps it’s trickled in from the universe through the runes I managed to smudge, along with the crack in the door.
Maybe both.
