Chapter 48
Chapter
Forty-Eight
ARA
“Ara, watch out.” I whirl around at Joel’s warning, only to witness him going down, revealing the menacing grin of an ice wielder behind him. It just takes one blink to take in what happened, but it chills me to the bone. Joel’s skin is eerily bluish-white. He took a hit that was meant for me.
The guilt is instant and staggering, and only surpassed by my rage at the man who is responsible.
With a scream, I throw my fire at him and watch in satisfaction as he goes up in flames, his horrified shrieks multiplying when others catch fire too, increasing the surrounding chaos.
I’m next to Joel in two steps and pull him behind two of his stone creations and out of the line of fire. Today is the first time I have seen his magic in action, and it’s chilling and fascinating at once to see men turn to stone.
Falling to my knees next to him, I try to assess the extent of the damage.
His skin is too cold and cracked in places, and I flinch when there is a crackling sound while I search for a pulse.
His heartbeat is slow and sluggish. Maybe it’s just the hypothermia?
I sit against one of the stone figures and pull his torso up until his back is leaning against my chest.
“Why did you do that?” I mutter, throwing his helmet aside, but of course, he doesn’t answer. Slowly, I let my body heat, concentrating on not bursting into flames.
“Don’t you dare die on me, Joel Cassius.
I can’t tell Ben you died trying to protect me.
” A sob catches in my throat. I swallow it down, but can’t do anything against the tears running down my face.
Joel is the only close friend my twin has.
Losing him… No, I will not let that happen. Not because of me.
“He’ll understand.” The words are whispered so softly that I first think I imagined it, but Joel’s eyes are open, watching me.
“There you are.” I give him a watery smile. His skin is still ghostly pale, but a little less blue. It’s working. “I’ve got you,” I tell him. “We’ll warm you up in no time. You’ll see.”
He smiles at me, his eyes trailing my face as if trying to memorize it.
“Tell Ben and my parents I love them … and Mariel, I’m sorry. I…”
“Don’t you dare say shit like that. You’ll be as good as new in no time. All you need is to get your body temperature back up, and lucky for you, I’m a walking furnace.”
“You always were hot.” He gives me a lopsided grin.
“See, you’re already back to joking.” The weight of a boulder rolls off my shoulders. “If that is not a good sign. I don’t know what is.” I grin. I’m immensely relieved. I check his pulse again, and his heart rate is already coming up.
It takes a while before I realize the blood.
As I warm him up, the cracks I observed earlier start bleeding.
They’re superficial, but I would still feel better if someone could heal him.
My gaze wanders to the other line of defense, instantly finding Tate.
He’s battling two men at once, and I watch him cut them down one after the other.
As soon as the second man goes down, his eyes sweep the space between us, and his movements become harsher, agitated, until our eyes meet.
A mix of concern and relief washes over his face.
Another black-clothed figure rushes him, drawing his attention away, and my breath catches when his opponent’s sword misses him with no room to spare. I realize I’m holding my breath when black dots start dancing before my eyes. I exhale slowly, but only relax once Tate gains the upper hand.
“Tate will fix you up in no time,” I murmur to Joel.
I don’t get a response, and when I look down, his eyes are closed. I shake him and call his name, but his eyes only open after I pinch him.
“There you are. You scared me,” I tell him, trying to laugh it off, but something isn’t right. I feel it. He looks too pale, and his eyes are already drooping again.
“Don’t you dare give up on me now, Joel Cassius,” I threaten.
“But you were never mine to keep.” His voice is barely a whisper, and I lean closer, my cheek resting against his. “…when to give up.”
“No, please, Joel, not like this.” But he doesn’t respond.
“Tate!” I scream his name in a plea for help. Tate’s head snaps to me, nearly getting impaled because of my distraction. I suck in a breath.
While it’s getting quieter behind me, there are still too many coming at Tate’s side. He doubles his efforts while Joel slips through my fingers.
My twin’s best friend, my friend, my childhood love… I’m begging now while I recount all the fun the three of us had back home as if memories could keep him here.
Tate kills his opponent, but is delayed by yet another man stepping up to him, and I know in my bones that he will be too late.
“Hold on, please hold on a little longer.”
“Honor … the dead.” Joel breaks off, his breath too fast, just like his erratic heartbeat.
“…by living.” I finish his sentence, choking on the last word.
“Love … be happy,” he says, and his eyes flutter closed. I tighten my hold on him.
“I’ll do my best,” I promise while all I want to do is rant and scream at him for stepping in front of me in the first place.
But I clamp my mouth shut, my body wracked by silent sobs, while his heartbeat becomes weaker and weaker and finally stops.
His markings go up in smoke. And a shriek full of pain spreads over the city.
I look up, and Asta, Joel’s Rukh, falters, losing height, as if she took a physical hit when their bond ripped.
She cries out again, and her pain singes my bones.
I caused that.
Her wings falter again and again, and she seems disoriented and dazed. She drifts off, and I lose sight of her.
I have no idea how much time passes. It could be seconds, minutes, or hours. Tate suddenly crouches down next to me. He touches Joel’s body, and I can read in his eyes what I already know … too late. He’s gone.
I squeeze my eyes shut as if that could somehow turn back time. Maybe all of this is a bad dream.
A soft tug on Joel’s body makes my eyes fly open. I glare at Tate and tighten my hold when he tries to pull Joel off me.
“You have to let go, baby,” he murmurs soothingly. But I can’t. I don’t know how. How do you let go of someone who gave everything for you?
I shake my head. “Do something, please, Tate. Do something.” My plea is a broken whisper. “He can’t be gone.”
“Gods, how I wish I could.” His voice is raw, and the way he looks at me is even worse. There are too many emotions when I don’t want to feel anything.
“Do something,” I scream and try to tug Joel closer. My head collides with the marble statue behind me. The bright flash of pain dulls into a throb, and I welcome it. It’s so much better than the pain in my chest.
Then Tate is there. He gently pries Joel from my numb arms and pulls me up into his chest even though I fight him.
Anger fills my veins—at Tate for taking so long, at Joel for stepping in front of me, for not holding on like I told him to. At myself for not calling Tate over earlier. And above all, for not telling Joel the truth. If he had known, if I had trusted him … but I didn’t, and it cost his life.
My palms sting and tingle from hitting Tate’s armored chest repeatedly. My movements slow down and finally stop, my hands coming to rest on his chest, and my brow follows. He wraps both arms around my shaking form, holding on while grief and guilt threaten to shatter me.
Self-loathing and anger swirl and writhe, building up to a tidal wave, battering my control, wearing it down until it splinters.
I throw my magic gift around all the familiar signatures around me, just in time before raw, vicious heat rolls out from me, like a detonation. Causing every attacker to tumble to the ground, writhing in pain, screaming in agony. Those who were closest to me don’t move at all.
“He stepped in front of me,” I choke out. “The attack should have hit me.” And I would have survived. But Joel didn’t know that, because I didn’t tell him. Tate simply holds me, not trying to offer words that wouldn’t change a thing.
Not trusting Joel killed him, and I’ll have to live with that. The rest of our flight forms a circle around us, and Mariel falls to her knees when her eyes land on Joel’s now unmarked skin.
“What happened?” she chokes out, her accusing gaze finding me right away, as if she knows.
“He stepped in front of me,” I whisper, my voice unrecognizable even to my own ears. I step out of Tate’s arms because it would be too easy to stay, to hide from the truth.
I doomed us all. Our flight is no longer complete, and I have seen how Iza deals with that earlier. Bodies hitting the sand, studded with arrows, unmoving, flash through my mind.
Mariel reaches out, and her marked hand lands on Joel’s pale cheek, and for less than a blink, I see a flicker, or a twitch, too quickly gone to say for sure. And I remember my promise … anything.
“Mariel,” I whisper. “Call him back.” When she doesn’t react, I repeat my request, stronger this time. “Mariel, call him back.” There are uneasy glances around me, and Mariel stares at me with a horrified expression.
“Call him back,” I demand. “Now.”