CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“What did you do to her?”
The moon hung cold above us as we stepped out of the theatre.
“I… I don’t know.”
The words rang false, even to me. I did know. I knew exactly what I had done. I had felt her heart flutter in my mind, frantic and fragile. And I had crushed it. Not hard enough to stop it. Just enough to remind her she could bleed.
“That wasn’t anything like what you did in the alley,” Kalani argued, shaking her head. “That was… something else.” She looked at me. “What else can you do?”
I flinched at her question, but I realized it wasn’t interrogation. She wasn’t scared, she was intrigued. And I didn’t know what to do with it.
The interest.
"You should see the fire! Oh, and the glowy water thing she does!
" Aran grinned wide, mimicking the flow of water with exaggerated circles of his hands. The knot inside me twisted tighter. It hadn’t just been another trick, another thing I could do.
It had been too easy. All the grief and anger and hurt I had buried just waiting for a door to kick open.
And I had opened it without even thinking.
“So…” Will started. “Norhavn. Anyone heard of it?” He glanced at Kalani, looking for anything useful, and her expression shifted. She folded her arms against herself, like a small shield.
“I remember Mother threatening to send us to ‘Hel’,” she said. “I didn’t think it was a real place. I thought it meant they’d kill us if we stepped out of line.” She swallowed. “This… this might be worse.”
“Worse than death?” Aran asked.
Kalani gave a small nod, her eyes fixed on the ground.
“Licia really ended up in the worst place on earth, huh?” Will muttered.
“We’re gonna need more knives,” Aran said, pulling one from his pocket.
I looked at all of them. Will’s jaw was clenched, as usual, his whole body coiled like he was one breath away from breaking.
Kalani stood stiff, arms crossed so tight it had to hurt.
And Aran just looked… spent. Bitter and hollow, like whatever fire was left in him had burned down to ash.
The adrenaline was wearing off, and all that was left was the ache.
“Let’s go find somewhere to sleep,” Will said.
We found a small inn a few streets down. Warm light spilled through its windows. Out on the street, people walked in groups, laughing, dressed in beautiful clothes, under the glow of the lanterns.
For a moment, I wanted to join them. Slip into the light. Lose myself in the noise and pretend I was someone else. Forget about Licia. Forget about magic and monsters and the tight, cold knot living in my chest.
Just for one night.
But I didn’t get to pretend.
“This will do,” Will said, already pushing the door open.
The innkeeper was an older woman with soft hands and quick eyes.
She didn’t ask questions, just handed us two keys with a smile.
Will and Aran took one room, Kalani and I took the other.
There were two beds, one table, and a pair of chairs.
Nothing special, but Kalani practically collapsed into the bed.
Outside, the world kept spinning. Voices still laughed out in the street, music drifted under the windows.
I couldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t sleep. I never took the moon drops because none of it felt right.
Me sleeping in a warm bed, safe and sound, while girls were sold and abused just a couple of streets over.
The sheets were suffocating, twisting around my legs like they wanted to keep me there.
I shoved them off, but it didn’t help. My skin was hot, my chest tight.
My mind wouldn’t stop, everything was just so loud inside me.
I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Kalani.
She hadn’t moved, curled on her side like a question mark.
She looked so different from earlier, in that alley.
Almost peaceful in her sleep. I wished good dreams for her, before easing the door open.
I made my way down the stairs, each step groaning under my weight like it wanted to rat me out.
Not that I wasn't allowed to go outside.
I was. Maybe it was all the years of constantly having to ask permission to go out, or the curfew put in place in Vestance, that made the act of being alone beneath the stars feel rebellious.
Like a silent act of war.
Golden light spilled from lanterns strung above the street and people moved through it like something out of a story, couples dancing beneath the moon, dresses swaying, hands held tight, and soft smiles.
I stood there for a moment, then sank onto the stone steps just outside the door.
Cold seeped into my hands as I curled my fingers against the edge of the step.
By the end of the steps, a small vase sat, chipped at the rim, the paint peeling like old bark, crooked. And I couldn’t stop looking at it. It was just a vase. Just a stupid, broken thing that had no reason to entice me. Still I reached for it, my hand hovering in the air.
I closed my eyes.
Focused.
I tried to find that part of me again. The one that had slammed a man into a wall.
The one that had slipped inside a woman’s chest and wrapped around her heart like a vice.
That part of me should’ve been able to move a vase.
But nothing happened, the vase stayed still.
I tried to lift it off the ground, like I had the man.
Then I tried setting it on fire, that didn’t work either.
I’m not sure why not. Aran’s theory was that my power was somehow connected to my anger, my emotions.
And all I felt was hopeless, like I had failed.
My hand trembled in the air, and the shame crawled up my throat like bile.
I was useless.
All that power, and I couldn’t move a goddamn vase.
“Can’t sleep?”
I jerked at the voice. Will stood half in shadow, just beyond the doorway.
“I can't... unwind. My mind is just... I can’t stop thinking,” I mumbled.
“About Licia?”
“About everything," I said before I could stop myself. "The people still left in Vestance. Licia. Those girls. I just feel so—”
“Helpless?” he finished my sentence. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”
“They’re so broken they won't even leave.…” I cried. “I can’t even imagine what they’ve been through.”
”You do know, none of this is on you, right? The world was fucked up before we were in it, and it will still be fucked up when we die. Saving Kalani was a good, a heroic thing, but Kera, you need to understand that we, you, can't save everyone. Even if we’d want to.”
He was right. I didn’t like it, but he was. I couldn’t keep putting myself, and my friends in danger over and over again. I had to pick our battles wisely. Letting that guard come close enough to Will that he could put him at knife point, wasn’t wise.
We sat there in silence for a while, staring out at the people spinning under the moonlight, so unbothered by the evils of the world. The evils happening just a few streets away.
I wondered if they knew.
“Look at them,” I muttered, my voice bitter. “So happy. So carefree. They don’t look over their shoulders. They don’t fear living.”
"We could be like them,” Will said.
I turned to him. ”We can’t,” I said, almost laughing at the impossibility of it.
He met my eyes. “If you want to.”
As if it was that simple.
“No.” I hugged my knees tighter. “Well, I do. But it’s not... We’re going to Hel. To a place literally called Hel. And these people are dancing in the moonlight, drinking fine wine, and laughing. And we’re not... we’re not them.”
I think my stupid eyes welled up. Will watched me for a second longer than he should have. I’d known the man for most of my life, but I still never knew what he was thinking.
Then he stood up and held out his hand.
“Here.”
I blinked at him. ”What now?”
“Give me your hand," he said.
I hesitated. “What are you doing?”
He grinned, the corner of his mouth tilting up in that way that always, always made my heart ache a little.
“Just trust me.”
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt, but my mouth was already curving up into a smile. “You're serious?”
Will just kept holding out his hand, patient as the moon.
So I sighed, wiped my sweaty palms on my dress, and gave him my hand.
He did ridiculous, theatrical bow. One leg back, head lowered, like we were standing in the ballroom of some rich man’s estate instead of whatever dusty patch of nowhere we’d ended up in.
“May I have this dance, my lady?”
“Gods, you’re the worst.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Fine,” I muttered, already caving. ”I’ll do you the honors.”
He straightened, eyes shining like he’d just won some grand duel.
Then he tugged me gently into the courtyard, where the night folded around us like a secret.
The music drifted in from a tavern somewhere down the street, soft, distant, half-lost to the wind, but still strong enough for us to find the rhythm.
At first, we were ridiculous. I tripped over his boots, he stepped on my toes. We stumbled in circles, laughing under our breath like children trying to mimic something grown ups did. I don’t remember the last time I’d danced. Not like that. Not with someone who looked at me like he did.
But then… somewhere between one misstep and the next, something shifted. My body stopped fighting it. The stiffness melted, replaced by instinct. I let him lead. Let the rhythm pull us along.
“We’re them now,” Will said, his eyes sparkling in the dark.
I used to say they looked like the ocean.
But now that I’d seen the real thing, I knew I’d been wrong.
The ocean had nothing on him. His eyes were softer.
Warmer. But just as endless. I’d gotten that part right.
If I looked too long, I knew I’d lose myself in him.
The stars stretched out above us, and for a little while, I let myself forget. Maybe he was right. Maybe a future was possible. Maybe I could still dance, still fall in love, still live. Maybe I deserved to.
His grip was gentle, but certain. One hand laced through mine, the other hovering near my waist.
“Do you think things will ever go back to normal?” I asked, leaning in to him. Just slightly.
“No,” he said. “But I’m not sure I’d want it to. Right now, I’ve got everything I need.”
His hand found the curve of my waist and settled there.
And then he pulled me closer. Just enough for my chest to brush his, for our feet to fall into sync.
I felt him breathe. The sharp inhale when he realized how little space was left between us.
I tipped my head forward until it found his shoulder, then rested there as his fingers pressed slightly firmer at my back.
I didn't recoil at his touch. I didn’t feel the thing inside me wanting out.
It felt satiated. But even if it hadn’t, I wasn’t scared.
Not of my power. Not of losing control. Not with him.
I’d never hurt him. Not even by accident.
Somewhere deep down, I knew that. Maybe he knew it now too.
Then his boot caught on the cobblestones.
He stumbled, and I fell with him. We hit the ground hard, his back slammed into the dirt, and I landed on top of him with a gasp that punched out of both of us.
Heat flooded through me, my chest, my stomach, my thighs, everywhere we were pressed together.
My body went still. His did too. And I could feel his breath, the way it shuddered through him, how it caught when my legs tightened around his waist.
His gaze dropped to my mouth, then back up to my eyes. Then he reached up, and tucked hair behind my ear. His touch was gentle. Too gentle. Careful in a way, like I was made of glass. His thumbs brushed along my jaw, and slipped down to the corner of my mouth.
And I broke. My lips parted. No plan, no thought behind it.
I just kissed him.
Soft at first. Testing. Then deeper. He made a sound deep in his chest, half gasp, half growl, and kissed me back.
His grip on my face tightened just enough to ground me, as his other hand slid to my hip, fingers curling tight like he couldn’t help himself, pulling me down harder against him.
I moved without thinking, chasing the heat, the friction, the fire roaring in my blood.
His mouth opened under mine and we melted into each other. I felt my own body unraveling, my hips grinding against his without shame. I should’ve pulled away.
I didn’t want to.
Because it wasn’t just a kiss.
It was everything we hadn’t let ourselves feel. Everything we’d buried. Everything I never thought I would feel again. I trusted him enough to let him in. With every meaning of the word.
Will made another sound, low, broken, and I felt him, hard and aching beneath me.
My breath caught in my throat, and slowly, as if it physically hurt to do it, his hands dropped from my body.
He broke the kiss, pulling back, before he scrambled out from under me, putting distance between us like he didn’t trust himself. Like maybe he shouldn’t.
“We should get back,” he said, voice hoarse, and cracking. Like something forced him to say it. Morals maybe. Stupid morals.
He turned and walked quickly toward the inn.
I stayed where I was, one hand still braced in the dirt, my body thrumming with everything that had just happened.
I could still taste him. Still feel him.
The way he hardened beneath me, and froze like it scared him.
But it hadn’t scared me. I hadn’t pulled away, I hadn’t stopped him.
As he walked away, I realized I didn’t want him to.
I didn’t want him to stop. And I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Not just the kiss. The way he wanted me.
The way I liked it.