Chapter 49
Chapter
Forty-Nine
Selene
Isee myself, wide-eyed and panicked, tear-filled, astonished, unable to grasp what has happened.
Sable can’t comprehend it. Neither can Titus or I.
My heels lift. A part of me wants to rush towards Sable, even after everything. Memories have me stepping back.
Hector stands firm, a feather strong enough to fly yet delicate enough to be plucked free. Deep down, he can’t understand either.
Was it fate that compelled Hector to do what he just did?
I didn’t hear it or see it! The look on Hector’s face—falling without a net when Sable brandished the sword—he fixed it. He landed, but in doing so, he shoved my twin over the edge.
“Stop, Titus,” Hector shouts. His voice no longer icy. It’s paper-thin.
Titus swings his fist to his side. He cradles the fire, unsure what to do.
Sable’s fingers uncurl, like water forced to evaporate under intolerable heat. Inch by inch, they open, and the weight of the sword in her hand clatters to the floor. My heart skips a beat as the metal echoes a dreadful melody.
I feel Titus look at me, grab my hand, and force our fingers to knit together so this shock can’t separate us.
His fire covers my palm, comforting me as an old chipped teacup filled with tea would. I hug his hand to my chest, just like I would that beloved teacup. A flush of warmth touches my stony heart as he adjusts the temperature.
I shake my head. A ghastly truth trembles on my lips. A premonition of how this is all going to end. Just as Everett told me.
Sacrifices.
My twin and I are the same. We’re just used differently. We’re pens that sign peace treaties and declare war. Fires that warm and consume; maps that show ways and mislead.
That premature smile is slapped off my face. Reality settles like boulders in my belly.
I look at Titus as one does their favorite tree, knowing winter is about to claim all its lush vibrant leaves.
Those thick branches that shaded me are going to be skinned raw, barren, exposed, forced to survive the cold, lonely winter in hope spring will come.
“I love you.” I whisper. Spring will come and shine upon your handsome face again.
You will live and smile, laugh and love.
You are our hope for survival. I am just a ladder that helped you.
That’s okay, my love. I would mold myself into endless tools to help you get the Vitalis.
I will.
He keeps his eyes ahead on the ghastly spectacle that has beguiled us. “I love you, too.”
I squeeze his fingers covered in fire, and then I face my fate. Only mage lights fill the room, keeping it dim, as if to aid in covering up this sin. Reaching behind her, Sable claws at her spine, desperate to unearth a soul-crushing torment of the dagger in it.
Hector’s breaths are waves clashing against one another, trying to drown out the horror of his actions. But when you drown, feeling persists. The pressure bearing down, the weight dragging you under, the burn in your chest. Under the waves, the water magnifies everything.
Hector’s arm is still outstretched, and in his fist, I see the dagger he plunged into my twin’s back, piercing her heart.
A death blow.
Sable tries to rebuke it. Her fingers touch his, clawing to remove the blade. I knew he’d betray her, but why now? She was his backup against Titus and me.
Sofia runs in front of us. She looks at Titus’s fire and gulps. “Let Hector explain,” she pleads. Should we accept it?
Hector doesn’t remove the dagger. Instead, he slides his hand down her back, over her hips, where he spins her into his arms. He falls to his knees, cradling her to his chest. The Vitalis, the book we all want, sits there, another spectator in this terrible confusion.
“I am sorry,” Hector exhales a terrible apology filled with anguish. He pushes her hair back, peering into her eyes.
He does love her.
I wish he didn’t. I wish Sable hadn’t died, knowing that love kills.
Was his cruelty a lie? Something he forced himself to learn because it was the only thing Sable responded to?
“You were my dark paradise,” Hector’s lips twitch up.
“I wanted to get lost in you, Sable. To build a shelter we could have survived in. Just you and me. No one else.” He glares at the Vitalis.
“Nothing else.” He chokes, “Your lips were poison I gladly swallowed. I thought I could withstand the illness that is a side effect of loving you. I thought little by little, I could render you into an antidote. But some poisons are just too wicked to be reversed.”
Sable strikes, grabbing Hector, shoving her magic into him. Her nails scratch into a rune tattoo. Her death magic stings, then soaks into a part of him like a sponge. His tattoo begins to fade, and his tan skin turns a pale greenish hue.
He hisses and slaps his hand over hers. Not removing her, only pushes her hand deeper into him.
“You’ll be dead before your magic can kill me,” he admits affectionately. “I won’t let you die alone, Sable.” He holds her tighter.
My hand covers my trembling lips. I compel my blinks to push back my tears.
Who am I crying for? Hector? Sable? Both?
Maybe it’s the fact that love betrays its admirer. Love is a master trickster; it restores and ravages.
I glance at my mate, his fire covering our held hands.
His muscular chest displays our mark. He stands protectively, like a warrior prepared to give his life for the weak.
I’m honored to be his mate, grateful I had one night with him.
A night filled with love and passion that was reciprocated.
One night surpassed all the others I endured in this harsh land.
Sofia bends down and picks up the mage cuffs; she puts them on, adjusting them to fit snugly. “I’m on your side,” she admits. She cuffs herself, proving her point, then drops to her knees, sits, and looks down. It puts my senses on alert.
Titus tries to pull me behind him, but I step one foot ahead, eyes locked on a different version of myself dying.
“I do love you, Sable.” Hector’s voice is thick and raw, a fresh burn, blistering the skin to protect the tissue underneath. “I tried to change you.” A tear catches his bottom lip. He licks it, forcing himself to swallow what he’s done.
Even when facing death, Sable remains cold. Blood pours out of her back, covering Hector’s lap. “That’s… not… love.” If she had the power to yell, she would have.
“You once told me you were incapable of love, Sable. You thought that statement connected us. Hate bound us in your eyes.” Hector’s throat bobs. “It was a lie. You do love,” he nods repeatedly.
Reaching out, he dips his finger into her blood.
“You love this.” He smears her blood on his fingertips.
“You adore your aggression and cruelty above all. Something broke inside you when you were younger. Shh, it’s okay.
I understand. Instead of clinging to hope like your twin, you clung to detachment.
I never lied when I told you we were cut from the same cloth.
You see, I used to be detached. People grabbed me.
I was given no other option. I was stitched to their unraveling edges.
I became a part of a quilt that was oddly shaped, but nonetheless it proved warmth.
Love. I was forced to feel, to fight for those who had no voice.
” He curls his fingers into a fist and then glares at her.
“To fight those who intend to steal voices.”
My tears pour out faster than her blood does now.
Hector rocks her back and forth. “I tried fighting you with my lips and my hands; I tried to soften you—reshape you. I gave you roughness because you rebuked joy. I tried everything to break you down.” He stops rocking, like he’s been slapped.
He grabs hold of a sharp inhale, forcing it into his lungs.
“Even last night, I tried to alter your mind, tried to carve out a piece of land we might both have, a place we could make a home, but you denied me. You told me homes are knives that plunge into your back. They trick you into thinking you’re safe when you’re not.
That’s because your home wasn’t safe, isn’t that right, Sable?
“I know!” Hector sobs. “I know what your father did to you. You whispered it when you had nightmares.”
Wiping away tears, I try to see what eluded me in childhood. Something dark and sinister happened to my twin, something I missed, something much more destructive than the normal lessons my father forced us to endure.
Our home lacked love, but… it was still our home. I found safety within those walls.
What did Sable find?
“You hate the word ‘home’ because of what your father did to you. You hate your twin because your father picked you to hurt. Don’t you?
Something similar happened to me, and that’s why I never gave up hope that I could fix you.
I fought until now, until you held that sword like a match you were going to throw into oil. ”
“Sable!” I stagger forward but stop. What did I miss? What did our father do to her?
Does it excuse her actions or explain the root cause of them? When the victim becomes the aggressor—when their definitions of right and wrong have been erased—how do you judge them?
“You tried so hard to make others think you don’t feel, but your motivation to burn down the world shows us all you do feel.
You do feel the bitterness of dying. It’s a relief you welcome.
It’s not the knife in your back that made you gasp, not my betrayal that made you cry.
Pain has become a numb ocean you have mastered sailing. ”
Sable slides her hand to another tattoo, trying to kill it from his flesh, but unlike the other, this one remains. Her magic is fading.
Hector continues, “I would have pledged my army to you if you had wanted to change the world.”
Her hand slips free, slapping in her warm blood. I seal my eyes shut for a second, ashamed to be a voyeur.
“I did… want to… change it,” Sable breathes, a faint smirk at her lips.