67. Maren #2
A small withdrawal of his control washed over my head like a knot worked loose. The rigid cords of my muscles unraveled, a puddle of loose threads tossed to the floor. My legs wouldn’t budge, and I all but collapsed into the peaks of my knees, shoulders rolling forward, limp.
What a fool I’d been.
I’m not sure when it happened. How it happened.
Somehow, I’d let myself think we might win.
Maybe when my feet touched down from Perpetuum, alive and whole, Kye fighting alongside me.
Or when my hand had wrapped around the Scale of Safiro, the weight of it against my thigh with its mate like two vows hidden in my pocket.
Even with the blow of losing Selena, I’d watched Thaan steal away with her and known that he’d run from me.
That I was a power that might match his own, or at least, a power he was afraid to see aimed in his direction.
It had grown in me like a wave, simple and small at first like a kiss from the wind or a beam from the moon.
Then bloomed into something stronger, a roaring wall of tide and anger threatening to consume anything that stood in my way.
Aegir helped me wield the stars only to examine the depth of my skill.
I probed for the last time I’d felt this level of defeat.
Even after Kye had thrown me in the cargo hold cell of the Aspire, I’d simmered and bubbled into a scratching, biting mirror of my former self, determined to claim my revenge.
I’d always used my anger like a spade, driving it underground in the direction I needed, an escape route hewn from my scorn.
I could not see an escape now.
Even if Aegir accepted Kye’s deal, even if by some miracle, we both made it out alive—Kye had laid eyes on a Naiad tail.
I stared at my legs through the wavy lines of water, flecks of bioluminescence like a floating galaxy over my skin, though I didn’t really see it. Boots stepped into the little pool. Legs crouched low enough that knees sank into the water.
“Leihani,” he said, his voice like a soft song built to make my throat collapse.
I tried to look up at him.
But it was like looking at a broken promise. A beautiful lie I’d whispered into my own ear, a star I’d wished on only to realize that promises will only ever be broken. Lies only turn ugly. And stars only fall.
“Leihani,” he said again, a drop of anguish under his voice. “Look at me.”
“Don’t do this,” I whispered. “Please. Go home, Kye.”
A drop fell to the water, then another, ripples expanding over my legs. I watched them, knowing they were mine. So close to me, Kye’s throat gave a soft swish. Please.
“If you do this,” I said, “I’m afraid I’ll hate you. I will live the rest of my life hating you. Hating the memory of you. Hating that I met you, that I loved you.”
His knees crashed slowly to the pool floor, resting between my legs.
His hands cradled my face, tilting me up at him.
I expected him to reason with me, to lay out the logic of such an idiotic moon-damned decision.
But there was no sense of debate in his eyes.
He looked at me like I was a song he wanted to sing forever, yet only had a moment to memorize.
“You said I’d never be alone,” I whispered.
“You won’t be. You have them,” he said, head tilting just enough to indicate the four Naiads standing behind his shoulder.
“You have your father, and Hadrian and Diara, and Pheolix and Selena, once you find her. You have everyone you need, and you brought them to yourself, made them love you all on your own.”
My throat welled, because that wasn’t true.
That wasn’t everyone I needed. “I hate you,” I said, like a damned child.
Part of me even almost meant it. After everything I’d done to bring Kye back safe, alive, he was leaving me again.
This time I couldn’t follow. I’d be here and he’d be there, a sea of stars between us.
“Hate me then.” His thumb crested my cheek, brushing a pearl off its track.
“Hate me dawn and day and dusk. Hate me so much the earth bleeds with your scorn and the ocean burns with your fire. Hate me more than anyone has ever hated anything, and then hate me further beyond that, until your cup overflows with the depth of your anger.” He pulled closer, his lips a stroke from mine. “Hate me, Maren. And live.”
Our breath tangled. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. His thumb stroked my cheek again, a longing in his gold-dusted eyes so deep I could have climbed inside them. He leaned forward, and my eyes closed, my mouth parting despite what I’d said, calling desperately for him.
Footsteps echoed off the walls of the throne room. Kye pulled away. Suddenly we had only seconds, moments left, and there was so much I needed to say.
“I was with you every step,” he said. “I know you bargained with Darkness. Sold your soul to him after your mortal life ends. But if there’s a chance he’d ever free you, I’ll wait for it. I’ll wait for you in Perpetuum. I won’t give myself to the sand—I never want to forget.”
“Kye—” I breathed. This was goodbye. A true goodbye, one as everlasting as a sea of stars.
But he’d already stood, already turned to face Aegir, his arm angled behind him to block me from the Videre’s view like a human shield.
The footsteps halted.
“Human.” Aegir’s voice reverberated over the pearl walls. My heart froze, my breaths locked in time as I waited to hear the rest.