Page 82 of Revenant

Bastian’s mouth opens with vengeance, fangs elongating as if they crave the kill. “Don’t—don’t do this,” she pleads.

“Listen to her, Bas,” Koen says. “Think about all the fun we could have with her still around.” That piques his interest, and he lets the idea roll around in his head before he lets her drop to the floor.

Footsteps sound from down the hall, and we all tense, wondering what this would look like to someone human. Someone normal. But the scent of cinnamon filters through the air, begging for me to follow it.

Alicent’s withered form enters the archives, tears streaming down her face. She looks breathtakingly broken, every line of her body trembling with exhaustion. My heart seizes at the sight of her. Mud clings to her red strands, dirt streaks her pale skin, leaves and twigs hang desperately to her clothes, remnants of whatever she’s just survived. She halts mid-step, frozen, her wide, tear-streaked eyes taking in all of us at once.

For a moment, I can’t move—can’t breathe—caught between relief, fury, and something far too uncomfortable building in my chest. Then, before I can even find my footing, Bastian surges past me, pulling her into his arms.

She collapses against him with a sob, and I’m left staring, every nerve screaming, wishing it were me.

No matter how much my body urges me forward, I remain stationary.

Naomi said she was gone. Dead. And beneath all the blinding rage, I know we all believed it—we weren’t supposed to see her again.

But I’m not the one she finds comfort in now. It’s them.

That’s made painfully clear when Koen and Elias step in without hesitation, pulling her into their orbit like it’s instinct.

Eryx disappears back into whatever hole he’s been hiding in, which is fine. He doesn’t deserve this.

Alicent’s eyes meet mine for a split second, and there’s something in them that almost begs for me to come forward, to show her that I care. And I do care, more than she’ll ever know. But right now, she doesn’t need me; she needs them.

Her icy blues move from mine, almost like she caught herself doing something she wasn’t supposed to, before landing on Naomi’s distraught form on the floor. Lacey helps Naomi to her feet, but if I wasn’t mistaken, Naomi looks as if she’s seen a ghost.

Despite the situation, a smile breaks from my resolve. Naomi and Lacey left her for dead. And here she stands. Which means whatever happened beyond school grounds, Alicent held her own, protected herself against werewolves that wanted her dead.

Proving she’s exactly who we all thought she was.

26: Alicent

“You!” I jab a finger across the room, aiming it like a loaded gun. “You fucking bitch!”

Naomi’s face goes white, then red, then a mess of expressions I can’t process fast enough. Her mouth opens, closes, opens again. “You—you’re alive?” she stammers, but the question is brittle, and we both know it. Her eyes flick to Bastian, and I notice how her pupils dilate when she realizes he isn’t going to fucking help her.

Lacey stands a step behind Naomi, hands pressed to her mouth. “How…” she stutters, voice trembling. She takes a step back, then another, the cowardice obvious in the way her shoulders round and her eyes avoid mine.

“How what?” I mock the sound as I tilt my head sarcastically. “How did I escape the wolves?” The anger inside me swells, a tide that doesn’t ebb. I don’t mean to, but the heat inside me answers before my brain can catch up. A flare of flame blossoms in my palm, small at first, then turning hungry. I don’t plan on it, nor do I think about the ridiculousness of conjuring fire. I only feel the emotion of being left for dead, and the magic obeys.

The fireball arcs from my hand and slams into the stone wall behind Naomi, barely missing her. The bookcases nearby tremble, and the impact throws her forward onto the ground. She scrambles, hands desperately clawing for purchase as another fireball forms instinctively.

“What was it you said before you left me?” I spit, voice raw and close to breaking. Fury rises from somewhere under my ribs, a pressure that makes my teeth ache. “No sweat off your back?”

“She was just trying to protect me!” Lacey screams, her voice cracking as she drags her friend closer, like she could possibly shield her from me.

My eyes snap to hers, and the terror in her gaze shreds something inside me. Every second I hold the flame in my palm, it pulses unevenly, hot then cold, slipping through my fingers as exhaustion eats at me. The certainty I had just moments ago is gone.

“I risked my life to find you,” I admit, my voice breaking in ways I hate. I hate the vulnerability now exposed to everyone around me. I didn’t fully understand the danger outside of the school before, but that ignorance is long gone. “Never again.”

My peripheral vision catches the embers crawling along a lone bookcase. The flames expand rapidly, devouring the shelves, the spines, the pages. Guilt washes over me. The guys didn’t deserve my wrath. Who knows how much I’ve destroyed, how much knowledge and history is now gone. My stomach twists, but I don’t have time to dwell.

Before I can process any of it, Bastian is there. One moment, he’s behind me, the next he’s hoisting me over his shoulder, moving with a speed that leaves my head spinning. I try to grab hold of anything, but there’s no chance.

By the time the world is right again, we’re deep in the forest. Darkness presses around us, the setting sun offering nothing as the gloomy clouds shield whatever light is left. The scent of pine and wet leaves fills my senses, and much to my pleasure, notes of tobacco and leather. Bastian sets me down with firm hands, ensuring I don’t collapse. “Breathe,” he says, pressing a thumb to the pulse at my throat, an order and a warning all at once. My eyes lock onto the rose tattooed on the top of his hand and when I attempt to pull back, he adjusts just enough to hold me in place.

“I…I didn’t…I didn’t mean to,” I stammer, shame now consuming me.

“I know, spawn. It’s fine,” he reassures, and it takes everything in me not to argue.