Chapter 27
I don’t recognize the woman in the mirror. She moves when I do, turns her head and lifts her hand at the same time. But there is nothing else that would connect her to me.
Horror wars with fascination—and both battle a strange thrill that begins to course through my veins at what this all means for me. For what I can do now.
The rich brown of my hair is lighter, highlighted with streaks of a blush-tinted bronze.
My skin remains my own, but the scars that once lined it, etched by all the cruelty I’ve endured, are now gone. The last vestiges of Halazar are finally expunged from me.
In place of the scars is a map of unfamiliar freckles and birthmarks.
I take a few steps closer to the mirror, turning my face left and right, studying the new shadows my cheekbones cast and just how oddly narrow my nose is.
I touch my cheek. Even my fingernails are longer, the nail beds slimmer than I remember.
Every part of me has been rearranged. My proportions are subtly different from head to toe. It’s as though I’m playing dress-up in my own skin.
But there’s one thing that feels more out of place than the rest: my eyes. Even though they still have a reddish hue, seeing the rusty brown is strange. Those crimson eyes, my last visible link to my mother, probably the thing I loved most about myself…are gone.
I swallow the lump that tries to form in my throat.
I chose this. I could have fought it, attempted to go without.
I could have said no, or asked him to stop.
But I committed. Nothing is permanent in this world.
There is no home that can’t be destroyed by my enemies so long as they live.
Why should my body be any different? At least this way, I will reap the benefits.
For the first time in forever, no one beyond a select group that I choose will know what I look like. No one will recognize me; I hardly recognize myself. I don’t need to look over my shoulder. I don’t need to keep to the shadows. For that, Mother would be proud. I know she would.
And who’s to say I can’t put myself back to how I was when I make my wish with the World?
Kaelis continues to watch me. I wonder if he can’t bear the silence, because eventually he asks, “What do you think?”
My fingers drift over my jaw, over the slightly higher curve of my cheek. “No one will think I’m Clara Graysword, that’s for sure.”
He shifts a bit closer, edging into my field of vision. “What do you think?”
“I won’t lie, it’s strange.” My eyes dart between him and the mirror.
“To see myself, but it’s not me. But it is…
” I think it helps he went to lengths to incorporate aspects of my appearance I’d always mused over altering—like the length and color of my hair.
“But I can live in this skin. Maybe even have a bit of fun with it. You certainly didn’t make me ugly. ”
“I couldn’t if I tried, and I’d never try.” He scoffs, a bit of his usual arrogance returning.
“Should I think that you’ve made me into your ideal shape?”
“I told you at the start, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.” His hand lifts, fingers skimming over my sleeve, fabric pooling under them. His touch lingers longer than necessary.
The space between us narrows, barely perceptible at first, but all of a sudden his sharp features are merely a breath away from mine.
“May I confess something?” The question is a low rumble.
“When have you ever hesitated?” My heartbeat quickens.
“Even though you were perfect as you were, I must admit I find it thrilling to have an opportunity to discover you yet again.” He leans in, and I can feel his breath against my lips.
He waits, and when I don’t move away, his mouth finally meets mine.
It’s just a whisper of contact, but it sends a rush through my veins.
He kisses me like a man who was about to die of starvation and is now taking small, simple bites of food because anything more would be too rich for his body.
My eyes flutter closed as my body melts into him on instinct.
He grabs the back of my neck, fingers threading through the silken strands of my hair.
Then something changes. The kiss transforms with a shift of his mouth.
There’s hunger in it, a desperate, consuming need that makes my knees buckle.
His other hand envelops my waist, pulling me flush against him as he backs me toward the mirror.
Eyes fluttering open, he studies me, both of us gasping for air, wet lips barely touching.
“Clara,” he murmurs, as if reminding himself—reminding me that this is who I am now.
I nod, lids heavy, as cool glass meets my back. His body is a wall of heat, and I can feel every hard line of him as he presses against me.
“I’ve missed you.” His kisses are molten along my new jaw. “Missed tasting every inch of your skin. Missed having you here, mine…all mine.”
His hands map unfamiliar territory, fingertips tracing my new curves like one would the inked lines of a card. When his lips find the hollow of my throat, I arch against him, a soft moan escaping before I can stop it.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against my flesh with a low growl. “Let me hear you.”
His hands slide lower, and the room spins. One finds its way to my hip, moving between my thighs. I can’t believe we’re doing this here, now, after I’ve only just finished my remaking. The thought has reality crashing back in around me, jarring me from the haze of desire.
“Stop.” I press my hand firmly against the solid wall of his chest.
He freezes instantly, pulling back. “Does something hurt?”
“No, it’s not that.” I shake my head, catching my breath. “I need to see my sister, make sure she’s all right.”
His brow furrows. There’s raw desire at war with understanding. But also a touch of worry. “Do you resent me for what I’ve done to you?”
“Kaelis, no.” I leave no room for misunderstanding in my tone or expression. “You might have suggested this, but I decided to do it on my own. This choice, ultimately, was mine.”
The worry has yet to abate. “Do you hate yourself for what you’ve become?”
“I think I will learn to love this new form of mine.” Already my worry and grief are fading into the thrill of possibility. “At least until we can use the World to return me to my former self.”
“You’re sure?”
I see his hesitation for what it is: worry and insecurity.
It’s so odd to see either on him that I’m surprised I didn’t notice at first. They hang off him like a too-large coat.
I offer an encouraging smile and say, “I am sure, Kaelis. Leaving is purely because I want to see my sister. The process took longer than expected.”
“All right.” Kaelis gently rests his palms on my hips, thumbs stroking gentle circles. “You’re sure leaving can’t wait just a little longer?”
I laugh softly. “You know it can’t.” I can already see it in the slight, almost sheepish smile he’s giving me.
“Yes, your sister comes first.” There’s an understanding in his tone that has my shoulders relaxing. I sense perhaps a thin edge of frustration in him, but no resentment or bitterness.
“I’ll come back to you soon.” I rest my palm on his cheek, and he covers it with his hand, turning it to kiss my fingertips.
“Do what you must.” Kaelis steps back slowly.
“Thank you.” I lock eyes with him when I say it. I want him to know how much his understanding means.
Kaelis nods, looking away. There’s a faint flush on his cheeks that completely stills me. Almost…bashful? Him? Impossible. First insecurity and now this? Who is this man? I can’t stop a smile.
“You should take the food with you.” He gestures to the other end of the table. I didn’t even notice the silver domes.
“Don’t mind if I do.” I head straight for them, lifting one to find a plate laden with meat and potatoes. I spill it all into a cloth napkin, wrapping it up. I’m sure Kaelis is aghast at the lack of decorum, but he merely smiles as though offending his sense of decorum is part of my charm.
“You know, I could help take care of her, if you tell me where she is.”
I pause. “We’re fine, for now.”
“I know she’s here.” He leans against the table. “You wouldn’t let her go too far from your reach. And the food kept disappearing from the kitchens even while you were with me. I must commend you for making the right decision to bring her here; she’ll be safest with us. I can help see to it.”
I give him a sidelong glance. “Is it supposed to make me feel better that you’ve deduced all this?”
A slight grin. “You’re not going to tell me where she is, are you?”
“No.” I finish tying the knot on the napkin.
“The offer is there, whenever you change your mind.”
“So arrogant.” I cross to the door, pretending to ignore him.
“You love me like that.”
Rather than responding, I leave, letting the sentiment hang, ignoring the weight in my chest at him saying the word “love.”
Getting to Arina’s rooms is pleasantly easy.
I quietly enter, reassured by the sounds of Gregor’s snoring. It sounds like nothing has gone wrong so far. She’s asleep when I arrive, and I can’t decide if that’s for the better or not.
I pad over softly and kneel at her bedside, resting my hand on hers.
“You won’t recognize me when you wake,” I whisper.
“You’re going to think my hair is wild. I can already imagine what you’ll say about the color.
I bet you’ll call it pink.” I huff nearly silent laughter, the saddest smile arcing my lips.
“I’d give anything for you to tease me. Not that I’d admit it if you were listening. ”
I pause a beat, as though she’s going to wake up and do just that. Arina doesn’t move and somehow the night seems a little bit darker—a little bit colder.
“I wish…” I swallow past the lump in my throat, sagging farther into her mattress. “I wish I could be sure that you’re still in there. I’m keeping faith. It was the only thing that had me surviving as Kaelis remade me…but it’s so hard. Can you…”
Pressing my forehead into the edge of her bed, I draw a shaky breath.
“You’re in there, I know you are. Just like it’s still me past the changes to my appearance.
No matter how different we look, I will always be your sister, and I will always come back for you.
So I will wait however long you need to return to me.
” She’s been through so much. I can’t ask—will never ask anything more from her again.
I won’t even ask her to return to me. If she can, she will. The rest I leave to faith.
I let the tears fall. They’re searing hot down my cheeks as they drip to the floor. But they don’t wake her. Nor do my ragged breaths, or my ironclad grip on her hand.
Somewhere between my memorizing the delicate whorls of her fingertips in the moonlight and studying the latticework of veins on the back of her hand, the tears run dry. There’s nothing left in their wake but hollow resignation.
I fall asleep hunched and wake, aching, with the dawn.
Though, as the world comes into focus, I nearly jump out of my skin. Arina is staring straight at me. As though…as though for the first time she’s seeing me and not merely looking right through me in a daze.
I bring her quivering hand to my cheek, as if feeling its new shape would help her understand what happened.
“It’s…it’s me, Arina. Clara.” But even my voice sounds slightly different after all I’ve been put through. What cruel twist of fate it is that Arina’s moment of clarity should come after my physical transformation. “I know I don’t look like you remember, but it’s me. Your sister.”
Her eyes flick left and right, as if trying to read my face. As if searching for something. She blinks, and I wonder if the world is coming into focus.
“Arina—”
“Who the fuck are you?” Gregor snarls from the doorway. I can feel the spike in magic as his cards rise.