Chapter 6
“ B efore your heart wanders,” Soren begins. “We can’t trust him, yet. While I can feel aspects of him… he’s very hard to read. Unnaturally hard. Something is shrouding him, and I’m not sure what it is, but it’s similar to Blackwell. It’s a fuckery that reminds me of the world across the Black Sea.”
My mind is like a spider desperate to form a web, but no design fits . I sink into one of the barrel-shaped stools right next to Soren, the rough wood creaking, and place my face into my hands.
“Jane,” Soren coaxes.
There’s always the chance that Dad and Blackwell are working together, I suppose…
Could the Scorpion have been corrupted over that dangerous ocean? Were he and Blackwell corrupted together, used in tandem? If this weird god is after me, maybe this is a very contrived plot to ensure I won’t be leaving?
“You know,” I begin, spreading my fingers slightly so he can hear me better. “Everyone talks about the Black Sea as if it’s this wall that once you climb, suddenly it’s an entirely different world there. It can’t be that different, can it?”
A part of me hopes it isn’t, because if so, then its magic is an enemy I know nothing about fighting.
“Maybe one day you’ll cross the Black Sea, love. It depends on how the rest of this goes.” My shoulders shake at hearing that term of endearment from him—the affection shakes every thought I’m trying to piece together. “But it’s not a simple journey. If the ocean waters were to disappear, you would see a seabed of ships more than you would sand. If you were to survive such a journey, then aye, you’d see an entirely different world.”
Okay, so I guess I’m fucked.
How can I make any decisions when I’m so ignorant of the world around me? I definitely can’t take on a god by myself, but how do I let people help when it feels as if I want to run from my own shadow?
Every fiber of my being itches to get across the Black Sea to this other world and perhaps learn about the magic that might be influencing the Scorpion—if there even is one—so I can undo them. I could sell myself as a healer to anyone who needed it to make money. Maybe travel so far to the other edge of the infamous continent that Misery might give up on me.
“Jane, I can feel you searching right now for an immediate reason for it all. We hardly know any details.”
Talk to him; don’t shut off. I glance up at those pale, blue eyes. “Soren, you do realize you can’t help me from here? If I seriously have all these people coming for me, then anyone being near me might die— will die. My own mother did, and my father is a Zenith . You can’t be near me. Kathleen can’t even be near me.”
I state it with such clarity that someone from the outside might think I have no care for any of them. But it stems from a place where I have been able to numb myself when needed, so I can fall apart years from now when I realize what I truly lost.
I’ll at least be alive, which means I can fulfill defending my family’s honor. And hopefully all these people will move on with beating hearts, too.
Icy eyes pierce mine, almost with a force that pushes me back. “And what if everything he said was a lie? It’s interesting, certainly. Aligns with some suspicions of mine. But I don’t trust many things right now, especially since I cannot feel him.”
I drop my head to stare at the ground with so much force that it nearly hurts my neck. When threatened tears burn my eyes, I bite the inside of my lip to stop them.
Why can’t it be simple for once?
“Jane,” he gently says.
“I, um,” I begin, trying desperately to remove the deep urge to release my tears. I wipe my eyes, then rub them. “It’s like the last ten years of my life have meant nothing, and my own father might as well be a stranger to me. And all that Misery nonsense aside, for the first time, I have clarity about my mother’s murder and that her revenge is not done. That I need to make people pay for my own suffering, too. I feel… I don’t know, I feel alone, and so hateful .”
“And what of me?”
Refusing to look up, I so badly want for the fates to reveal that this man is meant to be my rock. My true rock, the one that a hurricane can batter while he’d never move.
It’s a security and love I had as a child, and now it feels like a figment of my imagination; a lost fable. Maybe what I want more than anything is to experience that again, and whether Soren is planted on sand or stone is yet to be revealed to me. We only just crossed very deep, intimate lines…
I also can’t ask that of him. How could I? He’s not just a mercenary to hire, a lone man. He’s the leader of many, and I could never guarantee his safety.
My lips part, but it’s a struggle to articulate the totality of it all.
I hear him move, and yet it still startles me when Soren’s firm, yet gentle, hand touches my chin to lift my head—he scooted to the edge of his seat to reach me. The desire to give my heart to him, and to not think twice about it, deepens when he looks like nothing but strength . I’m high on him, and this is more than physical.
Romantic thoughts flood me with his touch, ones that are dangerously persuasive. It hurts even more because it’s just a glimpse of what we could be.
I was so fucking close to a life I longed for.
Still leaning over, Soren’s hand moves to tuck my hair behind my ear before pulling his fingers through just how I like. “You are defeated, Jane.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I let my gaze roam his face, memorizing every tiny detail of him, even the dark roots of his eyelashes and the spots where his stubble doesn’t grow because of the scars, in case I don’t get to again.
“Let’s get something straight, too,” Soren says, my body relaxing to the sound of his voice, even if I know better. “You didn’t develop affection for me because it was necessary for survival.” I clench my jaw, and the deep pit in my gut is nearly instantly filled. “You opened your heart to me for a reason , so don’t remove me now. Don’t act as if you suddenly have to do everything alone.”
The way his gaze hardens tells me he’s already pillaged every emotion of mine.
Lying is pointless to him.
“What other choice do I have? Not only is it safest for everyone, but also a lot easier to hide when it’s just one person. And I’ll be damned if I don’t get to gut every last person involved who ruined my family.”
“So you’d lead me on and then leave?” he asks, although he looks more angry than upset, like he’s making a point. “I meant it when I said if someone else makes you speak of love, they won’t live long, even if I have to do that to every man until I’m all that’s left.”
That’s the romance none of the villagers were ever able to give me—I don’t know if he truly means that, but the intensity of such a statement is so tempting. “And what good would that do?” I ask with a smile, although I know my eyes are sad.
His gaze roams my face. “Make me feel better for a moment.”
For a moment.
And even though this whole conversation makes me feel better, that’s what this is, though, isn’t it? A moment in time, uncorrupted from what haunts me.
Gods, I’m so fucking tired of running. Of something existential controlling my life.
“If I don’t run, then what else? At least over the Black Sea, it sounds like I can hide in the open. Here? I don’t think I can just go back to some village and live out my life that way. That’s not living. That’s just growing old with no purpose.” The words rest on my tongue, and the reckless side of me wins as I continue, “I’d rather die soon, after tasting the affection you gave me, than ever go back to something like Coalfell. And at least going over the Black Sea would be a chance to live.”
I don’t mention that it’s a chance to live, so I may become worthy of killing others. I’ll be like my father and train for ten more years, then take them all down for what they have ruined.
I’ll make it my life’s mission.
And there’s a chance Soren might stop that, so for now, I’ll keep it quiet.
There’s something guarded in his gaze, vulnerability still managing to break through. We never usually get past this point of sentiment. I know for me, it’s because this just seems so unrealistic. Too perfect. There’s no way this can work in the context of the real world.
His eyes focus on me, but they move quickly as he takes me in. Some part of me registers what that look is—he’s not confident about what he wants to say.
If Soren cares for me more than just a fleeting encounter, I almost hope he doesn’t tell me how deep those emotions run. If he really cares about me… Gods, I don’t know how much it’ll break me if I have to cross the Black Sea without him.
But I will, especially if it means he lives for his sister, too.