I don’t.
Calmly—coolly—I manage to say, “That’s it.”
Arion nods once. Not unkindly or tersely, but as if in understanding. His expression, even his voice, soften now. “Okay, mermaid.” And he waves that wrapped hand for me to continue ahead of him without another word.
As I pass him, one of his wings pats me gently on the shoulder. The cord caresses my cheek. Both make me want to shriek. “I don’t need a warlock’s pity,” I say instead.
“Good. You don’t have it.”
Horseshoe crabs, baby gulls, coral reefs, I think fervently, nails cutting into my palms.Cocoa trifles. Saltwater taffy. The foamy whitecaps of cresting waves.
The less I think, the faster I walk, trying so hard to shed my past in the same meadow where I lost everything else.
The library rises in the midst of an evergreen field. Swaying stalks of lavender stretch up toward the solid-gold fortress. There are no windows. There is no entrance. It looks as if Lucius plucked the library straight from the universe, a shining star in a faraway night sky, and then dropped it here without pretense or ceremony. I wouldn’t notice a door if Jacin hadn’t found it last time. A slender curve in the gold, seemingly decorative, slopes in a perfect semicircle.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a soft laugh.
“Criminal, remember?” Jacin winks at me, pulling a knife from his pocket in a deft maneuver that spreads heat low in my abdomen. He stabs the imperceptible fissure to pry open the door. The wiry muscles of his arms flex, and I can’t not stare at it. At him. He grins then. A knowing smirk. “You have a lot to learn about villainy, love.”
I sidle up beside him to help open the doorway. Not a single bad thought or ill intention rises in my mind; I have never been happier. “You stoleonebasket of pastries. A single crime does not make you a dastardly villain.”
“Ah, ah.” He releases his knife from the crevice to drag my chin toward him with the hilt. Emerald eyes far greener, brighter, than the surrounding foliage. I lean in to kiss him, but he presses the cold steel to my lips instead, stopping me. “You’re forgetting I stole your heart.”
I laugh at the cheesy line, and he claims the sound with a toe-curling kiss. Hooking fingers in the lace ties of my bodice, he drags me closer. His hands slide up my waist. I rake my own through his hair. He pushes me against the gold wall, and the icy breeze mixed with the cold metal sets my nerves on edge. Goddess, he’s perfect. He’s so perfect for me.
I stiffen at the thought. Was that truly the last moment I felt happy? Not a duplicitous facade, butrealjoy? Bile stings the back of my throat. I’m going to be sick.
“Help me open the door.” I crush the lavender underfoot and reach for the indiscernible seam. The sooner we’re inside, the better. “We’ll have to pry it,” I say over my shoulder, but he’s already there, elbowing me aside and examining the fissure. Blue flames curl around his hands as he lifts strong fingers to probe the edges.
“Any traps?” he asks in a low voice.
“None that I remember.”
He gives a short nod, and I wait, breathless, for his magic to penetrate the door—except… it doesn’t. Instead, he hesitates. Just for a second. Just long enough for my smile to falter. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” The word is curt, confident, despite that second of hesitation, and his magic shoots outward, wreathing the door in blue flames.Thank goddess.The metal groans in response. When it starts to buckle toward us, relief suffuses my chest.
We’re almost there. Once we’re in the library—with the door closed firmly again behind us—we’ll be able to relax, to search in relative safety without dryads watching our every move. The tendons in Arion’s throat strain with effort, however, and a bead of sweat trickles down his temple. I frown at the sight. “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
This time he doesn’t answer except for a single, vicious “Fuck.”
And the door slams shut.
His expression darkens as the blue flames vanish with it, and ashock of pure fear pulses through the cord.Hisfear. My eyes widen as realization descends. If his magic failed on the door, where else is it failing?Shit.“Arion, your thoughts,ourthoughts—”
His gaze crashes into mine, and he shakes his head. Right as an alarm sounds.
Earsplitting.
Like a thousand wails of a thousand corpses, screaming to the skies.
No, no—
The ground quakes violently. No longer a short tremble, but a deep, jarring rumble. It throws us forward, and I land hard on my knees with a curse. Roots lash from the newborn cracks—just as they did then—and the earth splinters beneath me. It’s familiar. Too familiar. Trying not to hyperventilate, I push onto my feet.Not again not again not again.It doesn’t matter how hard I wish, hope, pray—when I turn, it’s the same sight. A row of dryads emerges from the orchard. Colossal. Formidable. Claws sharp and hungry for vengeance, for blood.Jacin’s blood.
It’s the same ending.
But we—my vision spots, weeping into black—we haven’t even gone inside. We haven’tstolen. I brace myself for impact, scrambling for a weapon, a shield, anything with which to defend myself, but… it’ll happen too quickly anyway. Jacin died in seconds. And isn’t this a fitting end? Isn’t this what I deserve?
