The world’s still for a moment before a greatwhooshsounds from inside the shop. Thick fingers of fire smash the glass windows and flick like a giant tongue from the doorway.
The store has burst into flames.
The fire’s so hot, and it eats at the inside of the shop so fast that within seconds I know it’s all lost. It’s all gone. Every book, every bit of magic that made the store special, is destroyed.
Feylin’s magical hold on me loosens, and I collapse onto my hands and knees, sobbing. I’m crying for all of it—what happened the night of the fire ceremony, the joining that forced us apart, my broken heart, how Feylin looked at me like I’m nothing more than a stranger. All the agony that’s been tearing my heart apart these weeks flows out of me onto the cobblestones. I was right never to want to love. All it does is destroy your heart and your life. It’s not worth it. Loving isn’t worth it.
As my shoulders quiver and my stomach clenches, I dare another look at the shop.
My gaze lands on Feylin. He’s turned around, staring at me. My breath hitches as his dark eyes absorb me. And then, as quickly as our gazes latch, he vanishes, leaving my family, and me, destroyed.
44
The next day, there’s nothing left of the shop except for a charred and smoldering skeleton. The fire was self-contained and burned itself out over the course of an hour. But there wasn’t anything to save by the time it finished sweeping through the store.
Brittle, charred beams crunch under my feet as I make my way inside.
Mama bends over and picks up a piece of paper that’s mostly burned, though a square of it is untouched by the fire.
She sighs. “It’s all gone.”
My father hugs her to him. “We’ll build something else, Clara. Something better.”
She gives him a feeble nod, but I know what she’s thinking. The shop’s been in our family for years. What else can we do? What else do we know?
My sisters shuffle through the mess. Tears streak down their cheeks, and they threaten the do the same to mine, but I curl my fists every time a tear threatens to pop out from under my lids.
I can’t scrub the image of Feylin’s last look at me from mymind. His expression was unreadable, but there he was, watching me, gloating, probably, elated that he’d finally done what he’d wanted all along—to end us.
An arm wraps around my shoulder. I glance up at my father, who squeezes me into his side. “Come on. Let’s get this mess cleaned up, and then we’ll plan on making a better future.”
“Sure,” I tell him.
But there isn’t a better life after this. Only a few weeks ago I was promised a better one, and that got ripped away, just like the next one will be.
45
FEYLIN
Gray smoke curls into the sky. It almost looks like fog in the early morning sun.
Almost.
I don’t know how long I’ve been standing in this window, staring out, watching the destruction I’ve wanted for years.
Revenge should feel good. I should be rejoicing, but the pit in my stomach is even bigger than it was before.
An image of Addison hunched over the cobblestones, light slashing across her back as she sobs, slips through the mental barriers that I thought were well established when it comes to her. After all, I didn’t give an inch when she begged me not to destroy the shop. There wasn’t even the temptation to hesitate. She’s nothing as far as I’m concerned.
Then why won’t that damned picture of her crying leave my head?Because it was thewayshe sobbed.The thought penetrates my mind before I’m able to stop it.
She wasn’t crying just because of the shop’s loss. It was because of something else, something more.
Me. It was because of me.
“Majesty?” My gaze flicks to the doorway, where Ophelia stands with a tray. “Your breakfast.”
I shift my weight from one hip to the other. “You can place it on the desk.”
