Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
My mind refuses to settle. No matter how I move—how I twist, how I bend—my thoughts race. They pierce through every bit of calm, every moment of peace. They awaken my magic and my shadow, both of them prodding and pulling until I want to crawl out of my skin.
Skin that no longer feels like my own. It feels like the ice of death and the warmth of hands wrapped around my waist. It feels like everything I’ve lost, and everything still to lose. I want to scratch until I bleed; I want to erase every imprint of him.
Niko had once called himself pathetic for wanting me, but I am the pathetic one. He betrayed me, left me alone chained eternally to his island, and still, I crumbled at his feet like a fucking damsel the moment he came back.
I should have known better; should have known his return wasn’t because he ached for me like I ache for him.
He died to escape his pain once; he wouldn’t subject himself to it again for me. It would only be for the same thing it has always been for—his fucking kingdom.
When I tell you I will shred myself apart to take back what’s mine…believe me.
A petty part of me wanted to give him exactly what he wanted.
I considered hurling his precious island back into his lap, forcing him to anchor it once more and disappearing to some world far from here.
The urge was the echo of an old habit, a reverberation of lifetimes spent running from anything that could hurt me.
But more abiding than my survival is my selfish heart. I’ve fought too hard, clawed and scraped for the little power I’ve gathered. If I surrender it now, what will it all have been for?
Shadowed claws dig into my shoulders, and hunger balloons in my belly.
It ricochets through me, a stark reminder that Niko is right about one thing: the island deserves far better than me.
Better than someone whose sins are too great to be contained, so they’ve crawled outside of them.
Whose malevolence is not satiated by the pain of others, but ignited.
Unease skitters over my skin as I remember the lascivious feel of the Aeternalis’ gaze. Isn’t it lovely, he’d asked, like my sins were sustenance and he was starved.
While Niko—the man who once promised to love every dark part of me—had looked at my shadow with suspicion. With rage. With disgust.
Swallowing roughly, I push the memory away and turn toward the sea.
The sign of the Pixie’s Hollow tavern creaks softly in the breeze behind me, the unsettling noise heightening my anxiety as I search the horizon for the familiar shape of the Indomnitus.
A few vessels shadow the waters, but none are as beautiful or as horrible as Niko’s ship.
Perhaps I should be assuaged that Pan has sailed somewhere, but I find no comfort in it. The Aeternalis may not be human, but I have seen the look in his eyes in so many men during my life. He will not stop until he takes what he thinks he’s owed. I just don’t know whether that’s the island—or me.
For a moment, I consider ducking into the Pixie and drowning my sorrows in a bottle of whiskey, but I nix the idea as soon as it forms. Liquor may help numb my thoughts, but I can’t risk lowering my inhibitions, lest I end up back at Niko’s feet.
The idea of going back to the Lunaedon is not much more appealing. Sam and Tiernan will still be in the Hollow City, and I don’t want to be alone in a palace where every detail speaks to the Carrion King. In the end, I decide to walk in hopes of clearing my head and settling my thoughts.
The shade of the forest is a welcome respite from the intrusive glare of the setting sun.
I kick off my shoes, letting my bare toes sink into the cool moss of the path.
I breathe in the scent of decayed leaves and moist earth.
Will-o-wisps float overhead, some trailing lazily downward like puffs of cotton on an invisible breeze.
A few tangle in the damp strands of my hair, while others buzz curiously against the bedraggled fabric of my dress.
Their pleased hum vibrates through me, and cooling a bit of the heat in my veins.
I trail my fingers over a bunch of flowers tucked at the base of a giant oak, the tangerine glow of their petals vibrant even in the daylight.
I try to focus only on the silky feel of them between my fingers—to revel in the soothing rhythm of the woods, rather than the unsteady beat of my heart and the hunger gnawing at the inside of my ribs.
I nearly succeed, when a woman leaps from behind the wide trunk, her unexpected appearance speeding my heartrate once more.
I plant my feet, my hand already reaching for my sword.
But the woman makes no move to attack. She only stares at me with an intent disapproval, like I’m the one who’s accosted her in the middle of the woods.
She is taller than me by a few inches. Her blonde hair hangs in a disheveled braid down her back, her brown eyes bright against her dirt-smudged face.
There is something familiar in the tilt of her eyes, something that tugs at my mind but refuses to be held.
Like no matter how I reach for the memory, it slips between my fingers like it was never there at all.
Before I can consider it further, my gaze snags on her clothes—jeans, a sweatshirt, mud-caked sneakers. My stomach flips, shock sparking through me.
The woman is dressed like she’s come from the mainland.
I felt the Aeternalis’ arrival through the wards—who is she that I hadn’t felt hers?
Stiffening, I lift my chin, readying myself, but if the woman shares my distrust, she doesn’t show it. She simply tilts her head in frank examination, like I’m an equation she can’t quite make sense of. “You’re a hard person to get alone.”
Just like her face, her voice is oddly familiar. Like I’ve heard it in some past life; some dream I can’t quite remember.
“I’ve been trying for nearly a week, but one of Niko’s friends are always watching.”
My shadow stirs at the mention of his name, its renewed hunger rattling my bones.
“Do you ever wonder why that is?”
Irritation rankles the back of my neck. “Why what is?”
“Why his friends have stayed so close to you, even after you banished their king?” The woman stares like I’m a mildly interesting insect. “Whether it is out of friendship to you…or perhaps, a deeper loyalty to him?”
Her words aren’t accusing, only curious, but they pierce through me all the same. “Who the fuck are you?” I snap, yanking my gladius from the scabbard and pointing at her.
“I meant no offense,” she replies, not answering my question. “It’s only observation and theory. It would make sense for them to keep close, so that when Nik returned, he would immediately be informed of your every move.”
I stare at her, feeling as if she’s stripped me bare with one sentence.
My insecurities, my fears—all of them rise, a looming black wave that my shadow devours.
None of them want you, it whispers in my ear.
And how could they? Who could love such a malformed heart? Who could want such a selfish soul?
But it isn’t the shadow’s whisper. Not really. It’s the echo of my own thoughts, a truth of my own making.
“You seem to know a lot about him for someone who just got here,” I reply, my mind snagging on the way her mouth fit around the name Nik. Like she’s said it a thousand times before. “But you don’t appear to know much about me, otherwise you’d know patience is not one of my virtues.”
I level my blade, my shadow’s excitement at the prospect of violence ricocheting through my chest. “I suggest you answer my question and tell me who you are before the little I possess runs out.”
The woman’s mouth turns down in measured distaste, and for a wild moment, I consider setting one of my imagined beasts on her simply for annoying me.
“It doesn’t really matter who I am,” she replies, her tone harsher than before. “I’ve come with a warning and a request.” And then, as if the words stick to the roof her mouth, she adds, “Your Majesty.”
I narrow my eyes, her voice shaking a memory loose. “It was you…” I breathe suddenly, taking two accusing steps toward her. “You were the one whispering to me after what happened in Caelum. The one whispering to me in my dreams!”
“I was trying to lead you to me, but I’ve never been any good with magic…” she replies, wringing her hands in front of her. “And that blasted Strayed was always lurking outside your door. I couldn’t risk him warning Niko.”
“Who—Do you mean Tiernan?” I demand. “Tiernan isn’t a Strayed. He’s my friend.”
The woman tilts her head in vague pity. “He was Strayed when I lived here. One of the last brought over from the mainland before Niko betrayed me and ruined the world.”
Realization drips over me like ice water. Her knowledge of Niko and the island. Her ability to influence dreams. “Wendy…you’re Wendy.”
She hesitates, before admitting softly, “Yes.”
“You’re how Niko got through the wards!”
“He gave me little choice in the matter,” Wendy replies, sharp bitterness lining her words as her fingers drift to massage her throat. “I never wanted to come back here.”
Her mouth tightens as her eyes skate to the forest around us, and I get the impression that where I see the dark beauty of Letum, Wendy sees something else entirely.
I take her in anew; Not as a stranger, but as the woman Niko once loved enough to damn his kingdom.
Something dark flutters in my chest that has nothing to do with my shadow—something possessive and wanting—because despite her tattered clothes and dirt-crusted appearance, there is no denying Wendy’s beauty.
Even in its haphazard braid, her long blonde hair shines in the dim light of the forest; her deep brown eyes are slightly upturned at the corner, dark lashes fanned over the creamy skin of her cheeks.