“I should have stayed with you,” she whispered. She moved the rag to the other arm, but did not look me in the eye. “This is my fault.”
“No,” I hiccupped. It was my fault.Myfault. “I had too much faith in myself. I should have resisted more.”
Brietta moved the rag up to my neck. “Fighting would have done nothing. Cupid’s Blood is just…very strong.”
AndIwas supposed to be stronger.
A bead of water trickled between my breasts and magic twinkled against my skin. What was the point of magic if it failed me when I needed it the most? What was the point of having power if someone could just take it away?
Brietta offered me the damp rag and her eyes flicked down to my hips. “Are you hurting?”
“No,” I sobbed. “He was…good to me. We did not even do…everything.”
Her auburn brows knitted. “You remember?”
I nodded. My magic held onto the memory of every ounce of shameless pleasure I had drenched myself in.
“I…I wanted it,” I said. “I hadalwayswanted it…but not like that. Not when Anders forced…”
Brietta put the rag in a nearby porcelain bowl. “Derrick has no idea, does he?”
I shook my head. Derrick never saw me drink the poison, and from his view, what was there to suspect? I had spent seven years showing him I was in love with him. I kissed him at his birthday party. I sat in his lap while he played the harp.
Giving in to desire was expected becauseIhad made him expect it.
My throat was sore from sickness and shame. “I made him want me. This is my fault.”
“Serafina, no!” Brietta’s shining eyes finally met mine. “Do not say this is your fault!”
“I am supposed to be saving Riyan, repaying him for what he gave me,” I cried. “Butevery day,I fail. I am not a powerful sorceress, or a Baron, I am just another stupid whore!”
Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and her auburn waves brushed against my sticky cheeks.
“Nevercall yourself that,” she commanded. “You did nothing wrong.”
But her voice broke. The magical tears sparkled in the water on my chest as Brietta’s skin brushed against mine. Her bosom heaved and suddenly I heard parchment flipping in my mind.
The door to Brietta’s inner self slowly creaked open.
The flipping parchment got louder. Brietta may have always been an open book, but she had glued some of her pages together, hiding her own shame.
A swirl of magic pulled me toward Brietta’s open door. I closed my eyes and eased into the memory written in those glued pages.
Yellow wallpaper formed the cage of the memory. Brietta heaved into a bowl, getting the last of the Cupid’s Blood out of her stomach. The purple sludge in the bowl blurred as tears filled her eyes.
Freya rubbed her back. “You did nothing wrong, Brietta.”
“I betrayed my friend,” she cried. “I do not remember, but I…I hurt her.”
Brietta rubbed away her tears and Freya’s face came into focus. Freya’s glacial blue eyes shone like glass.
No, not glass…a mirror.
Freya’s voice was gentle as wool but sharp as a blade. “I will stop this.Wewill stop this. Never again.”
Brietta’s lips trembled as she repeated, “Never again.”
I left the memory like an exhale, closing the book on that chapter. I returned to my body and pressed my cheek into Brietta’s skin.
