“We must flee?” Evangeline’s question is quiet, but she may as well have shouted for how quiet the room is.
“Is there a possibility this curse spreads throughout Mescos? We may leave, but what if this curse follows us?” Zephyr repeats my very fears.
My mother pales—clearly she didn’t think of that. Her spine folds slightly as she sinks back into her chair. The woman who always carries herself with unshakable poise—chin high, voice steady—suddenly looks small. Frail, even. Her eyes, wide and glassy, are raw with fear, a sharp contrast to the calm mask she’s worn for years. The silver in her hair seems brighter under the light, her skin sallower, lined with exhaustion I hadn’t noticed before. She looks older, like the weight of protecting our people and trying desperately to find a cure has finally carved itself into her bones.
“I suppose that is a possibility. We may be leaving one curse-ridden land in favor of another,” she relents.
“Then what is our next move? Staying here means death, and I would very much like to stay alive,” Finnick tries to joke, but it falls flat. Probably because death lingers in our land, waiting to strike.
“Well, there is something we could try,” Zephyr’s voice is low and deliberate as he lifts his gaze to meet mine. The moment our eyes lock, realization hits me like a blow. My jaw tightens. Every muscle in my body goes tense. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look away. He holds my stare, unyielding, as if daring me to challenge him.
I want to. Gods, I want to.
But my mate is right. Wedohave one last option, and Evangeline has already offered to do it.
Evangeline’s hand touches my arm, and it breaks the spell Zephyr and I were under. I manage to tear my gaze away from him to look at Evangeline. Her doe eyes soften as she takes both of us in. “What is it you aren’t saying?”
Before I have the chance to answer, Zephyr speaks up. “I think it’s time you speak with the Nephilim.”
“But we will not force you,” I add, earning a heated look from Zephyr.
“We don’t have the luxury of shielding her, Niko.”
“I will not force her. We will find another way?—”
“There may not be another way! Besides, she’s already said she would,” Zephyr growls.
I rarely get angry with Zephyr. He’s the one person in this world I’ve always understood, just as he’s always understood me. But the war has changed us. It’s carved out sharp edges where there used to be softness. Lately, he thinks more like a general than the man I know, always weighing the greater good, always willing to make sacrifices… even when the cost feels too high.
Or perhaps I’ve just become too soft.
“Neither of you gets to make the decision for me.” Evangeline’s words shock me to my very core, head snapping in her direction. Even Zephyr looks at a loss for words. “I appreciate your concern, but whether or not I speak to the Nephilim is my choice. Don’t speak of me as if I’m not capable of making my own decisions.”
A heavy hush settles over the table, thick and expectant, as if everyone is holding their breath. All except mymother. She sits perfectly still, a quiet smile tugging at her lips as she watches Evangeline with something fierce and unshakable burning in her eyes. Something like pride, pure and unwavering. And though I can’t bring myself to stop worrying about Evangeline’s safety, I can’t deny the swell of love and admiration rising in my chest. She’s braver than we ever gave her credit for, stronger too.
“Our queen speaks true. Let her decide what she wishes to do instead of having the men decide her fate.” My mother nods in encouragement to Evangeline.
Shame colors my features. Zephyr mirrors me. We both owe her an apology, but out of fear of cutting her off again, I wait for my mate to speak to the table.
“I will not stand around and let innocent people die because of my cowardice. I have said I’d speak with the creature, and I will. Zephyr, how safe will it be for me to speak with the Nephilim?” She looks at my other mate for advice.
Zephyr seems to weigh her question for a moment. “We’ll make it as safe as possible. Niko and I both will be there to protect you. The Nephilim is weakened and chained. We will not let you get hurt. I swear on my life.”
Evangeline nods once, her expression carved from stone—unreadable, unshakable. If fear claws at her, she hides it beneath a mask of quiet resolve. And gods help me, I think I fall even deeper in love with her for it.
“Then I’ll do it,” she says, her voice steady, carrying more courage than I’ve ever seen in a soul. “Any information I can get will help us find a cure for the curse.”
She turns her gaze to us. First toZephyr, then to me. There’s no hesitation in her eyes. Only fire. Only purpose.Herpurpose.
“Take me to the monster.” She leans into danger as if it were destiny. And, for better or worse, we will follow her into the jaws of the unknown. Even if it kills us.
Chapter 30
Evangeline
Bravery is a strange thing. Books would have us believe it’s a fearless sensation, exploring the unknown and dangerous. That even in the face of danger, the hero will valiantly face off with the enemy, risking their own personal safety. However, in reality, I’ve never felt less valiant and more fearful in my life. Bravery straddles the line of stupidity. One wrong move and someone could get hurt.
Or worse.
