Chapter 92 Nikolai
Nikolai
It’s easy to follow the trail of blood glass back to my chambers. Why would she come here?
Stepping around the clusters of crystals, I open the door to a scene I’ve witnessed once before.
My bedsheets are shredded. The sandstorm of a source stands in the middle of the room.
My ball gown is gone from her body, and she’s clothed instead in scraps of my black silk bedding.
She’s wrapped herself in substantially less of it than the first time—a thought that dissipates as I see her expression. Fury. Pure, blistering fury.
My desk is stripped bare, fragmented pieces of glass, paper, and shattered amulets strewn across the floor. Everything Taera found, she destroyed.
“What are you doing here? Get out!” she screams.
The blood glass crackles on the doorstep, biting at my heels and closing off the exit. Reluctantly, I take a step inside, out of harm’s way.
“Get out.” Her hissed whisper is scathing, worse than any shout.
“You’re not letting me,” I say, shifting aside, letting her see the doorway. Blood glass has crawled up the frame, jagged bolts of it spearing across the entrance like crossed swords. I’m trapped here with the source who hates me.
“Please—” I say.
“No.” Taera cuts me off. “You don’t get to speak. You lost your chance to lie to me.”
I flinch again, closing my mouth.
“She’s right,” my image says. Fortunately, Taera isn’t able to see my delusions. “You utter bastard.”
“You lied.” Taera’s voice is smaller. Then, like she’s trying to shield her pain with anger, it hardens. “You kept me here. You stole from me. I trusted you, Nikolai. I gave you everything.”
She stares, silent. I mutter, “I told you not to trust me.”
Her eyes brim, searing into me as the shiny drops spill down her cheeks. “So I should have known?”
“I can’t be what you need.”
“I see that now,” she chokes out.
I pinch my eyes shut, my voice raw. “But I want to be.”
Taera holds up a hand, and I stop speaking instantly.
“There’s only one thing,” she murmurs.
“Anything.”
“What happens to Omi now?” Her eyes are wide, haunted. Her brow is creased. I try not to, but I look away.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I say. “It was mine.”
“I didn’t mean to…” Taera jerks her head away, her face contorting in pain.
“Sasha is taking care of them. They’ll have to leave the Halls.” I look away again, unable to stomach the devastation in Taera’s face on top of my own. Everything that happened tonight—to Taera, to Omi—is because of me. When I look back, she’s covering her mouth with one hand, muffling her sobs.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
It’s most of a minute before Taera speaks again, her own voice barely audible. “I hate this place.”
“I’m sorry I kept you here.” The words burn my throat like hot iron. “I should have let you go.”
“Do you know what it was like, being trapped?”
“I brought you home,” I whisper.
“When you wanted to. When you couldn’t bear the guilt anymore.” Her tone rises, slicing into me.
“I couldn’t do it anymore, not to you.”
“So I’m supposed to feel special?” Her voice breaks. “You took my magic. I offered it to you, but you stole it.”
“I couldn’t accept your kindness when I was already… You deserve so much more. You should have the sand and the sun and… everything, Taera. You deserve everything. I want to give you everything.”
“Except the truth,” she whispers.
My throat closes.
“Even now, you’re still lying to me.” She gestures to my face, my body, my entire illusion-self. I can’t answer. I have no answer. Everything I might say is already tainted by my lies.
“But I wanted you, Nikolai. I chose you.” She swallows another sob. “I loved you. I still do.”
Lightning cracks my chest in two. Stunned, I sink to my knees, my own tears clouding my vision. Do I love her? The way she smiles, the way she laughs with Hazel, the snowflakes falling on her lidded lashes—the rush of her magic and how good, how pure it feels. Not that it matters now.
The words rip from my throat, an unwanted admission of my own. “I love you, too, Taera.”
“I—I can’t.” She turns away, shoulders quaking. “Everything—it was a lie.”
“Not this.”
“How can I ever trust you?”
“You can’t.” I exhale. I’ve damned myself and will never deserve her.
But part of me is unwilling to break, unwilling to fold, knowing she cared enough about me—a lying, cheating illusionist—to fall in love with me anyway.
I want her more than anything, more than magic, more than the Halls.
And I need her to know it, even if there’s no way forward.
“I’ll do anything.” I look up at her from my knees. “Anything.”
She studies me for a long moment, her eyes puffy. Even so, her unadorned, unillusioned face is all I want to make smile again. Selfishly, despite everything I’ve done to her, I still want Taera.
She laughs, a pained sound. “After everything, you want me to give you another chance.”
I close my eyes, praying to the desert. I don’t deserve this, but I can’t let go of her.
“Please,” I say.
“Anything?” she says.
“Yes.”
“Take off your illusions.”