The sound of fist striking flesh registers, followed by the smell of blood.
Asmo has Marik on the ground. Blood spurts from Marik’s nose—which currently hangs at a crooked angle—and flows down his neck. Marik doesn’t make any attempt to defend himself. His hands lay palm down on the floor, limp and unmoving. His head jerks to the side as Asmo’s fist strikes his cheek. Asmo pulls back again, and Elle lurches away from me. She reaches for him, but his fist catches her in the jaw, and she falls to the ground with a curse.
Asmo turns, eyes wide in pure panic. “Shit,” he swears as he reaches for her, but Marik shoves Asmo away.
He pushes himself to his feet and rushes to Elle. He bends down, blood dripping from his crooked nose. “Elle,” he whispers, hands reaching for her, landing on skin so pale it’s nearly translucent. Even from here, I can tell Marik’s touch is gentle. She looks up at him, eyes softening for a whisper of a second, before pushing him away.
“I’mfine,” she says as she rises to her feet. She rubs her jaw, at the pink mark that’s now blossomed.
Asmo stands and assesses her. “I’m so sorry, Elle. I didn’t mean to.”
She waves the apology away. “Good to see you, too, Asmo,” she says with a smirk.
Something warm unfurls in my chest. I have no idea what Elle has been through. I’m assuming it was some version of hell. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough to erase her. Not all of it, at least.
She pulls Asmo in for a hug. He wraps tentative arms around her. Marik watches them with a sad expression.
“If there are no more punches to be thrown,” I say, “We need to get back.” Elle looks at me quizzically. “You’ll see. It’s safe.”
She walks toward me and grabs my hand, then reaches for Asmo’s. “Let’s go.” Her voice is steel, as if she’s preparing herself for whatever is thrown at her next.
“Er—Elle,” I say, “Marik has to come with us.”
He stands watching us, face still dripping with blood from a gash on his cheek and what I’m assuming is a broken nose. Elle refuses to look at him.
She shakes her head firmly, her gaze locked on something over my shoulder. “No. Come on, let’s go.”
I close my eyes. I would love to sayYou’re right. Let’s leave him!But I can’t. We can’t. I breathe through my hatred for him and for the Mother and for everything that’s led us here. “We need him.”
She drops my hand and stares at me with hardened eyes.
I soften mine. “I know,” I say gently, “But it’s the only way. There’s so much you don’t know. But we need him if we have a chance at winning this thing. At beating Cora.”
Her jaw flexes. “Fine.” She turns that angry gaze to Marik, to the mate she knows nothing about. “Let’s go.”
He follows her orders, hangs his head. I can’t help but wonder if he knows already. Elle grabs my hand once more. I reach for Marik’s arm, everything in me revolting at the touch.
Asmo funnels us away.
But something is wrong.
The kiss of the chilly night air is absent, replaced by smothering heat instead.
Squall’s End is on fire.
Chapter 45
MAE
Despite being swathedin angry flames, the entrance to Squall’s End remains standing. Thick smoke smothers my lungs, and I cover my mouth and nose with my shirt. Sweat beads along my forehead, and my eyes water at the blazing heat. The fire crackles, but the tree stands tall.
“Fuck,” Asmo mutters. He looks to Marik. “Help me.”
“Wh—” Marik starts, but Asmo turns and sand pours from his hands, quieting the flames. Marik joins him, the two of them working together to smother the fire. I watch them, chewing my lip the whole time, my thoughts racing.
Etta is in there. I just got back my sister. I can’t lose the other. I can’t lose my friends. Cally, Holly, Ivan.
The fire dies easily, the raging flames now sleeping embers. But smoke still pours from the entrance. Squall’s End is still burning.
