55. Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter fifty-five
Facing the window, I pretend to be asleep, doing my best to look relaxed as Zenn's footsteps pad to the bed and fabric hits the ground before the mattress dips next to me.
Strong arms wrap around my waist and chest, pulling me close, and he mumbles.
"Hey, you're so cold," into my hair, inhaling deeply and tucking me into the warmth of his body.
I'm furious to find tears welling in my eyes at the easy way he slips into the act. Earlier, I wished we could just stay here in this little house. Now, I wish we could stay in this moment. More than anything, I wish I'd never gone looking for him. Ignorance sounds like bliss right about now.
Only tracing the edge of a fingernail over and over the smooth disc under my pillow, keeps the wave of crushing emotion from devouring me. What do I do now? As excruciating as it is, I force myself to snuggle back into him a little without opening my eyes. I can't. I'm not ready.
"Good morning, baby" he hums, and I can feel the smile against my neck as he makes soft, lazy circles with his fingertips against the bare skin of my stomach.
If I try to speak, I'm going to lose it, so I tip my head back against his chest and let myself have these last few breaths with the man I've so foolishly given my heart to.
Will I ever get the scraps of it back? Do I even want to?
When he sweeps my hair to the side to press sweet, tender kisses along my shoulder and up my neck, I have to make a choice. The ache in my chest is begging me to let go of everything I heard and trust what I feel.
The monster in my mind keeps repeating those words.
"We always knew this couldn't be anything.
A future was never an option." And just when I think my heart might win, the voice in my head turns cruel and sly, whispering my worst fears.
"He's the most powerful Wielder in history.
He deserves the beautiful princess waiting for him at home.
He doesn't really want you. You were convenient, just a distraction.
You can't be anything. You're nothing." The words rain down on me, icy blades slash deep jagged cuts.
I can't fight my thoughts with so much proof they're right.
Eyes flying open, I turn and press my mouth to his before I second guess myself.
Catching a glimpse of the surprised delight on his face as he parts his lips and my tongue slips in, I sense his expression shift to confusion at the sensation of something small sliding between his back teeth.
Then, pure, unadulterated shock takes over when I pull my mouth away and grip his jaw with my thumb, forcing it to click shut so tangy liquid spills from the last coiled salixa frond and down his lying throat.
Those beautiful eyes go wide, cycling through anger, hurt, betrayal, grief, and even a hint of fear. Everything I felt standing in that stairwell minutes ago, and am battling with as I kneel on this bed.
Zenn tries to push up off the bed, but the potent sedative saps his strength, and he collapses back against the pillow.
His voices is a raspy croak when he attempts to say what I think is my name. He does manage to reach across the mattress for me, and it takes every tiny fragment of my battered willpower not to reach back.
In less than a minute, his chest rises and falls in deep, slow breaths, just like our morning practice. The only other thing that still moves are his eyes, and for a while, we just stare at each other, both in shock at what I've done.
"I need you to tell me one thing," I whisper, brushing his hair back off his forehead without thinking then jerking my hand away. "Did you use me to try and get to my sister?" His gaze drops, and I think he tries to say my name again. "Please, just tell me. Surely I deserve at least that."
Eventually, he blinks slowly and dips his head in the tiniest nod.
The dam inside me bursts. Folding in on myself, I curl my forehead to my knees and break.
Hot tears stream down, soaking the hem of the shirt stretched over my legs, a flimsy sort of protection against the man who has seen more of me than anyone else.
Silent sobs wrack my body so violently, the bed shakes.
I despise myself for letting him see yet another moment of weakness, but it would have obliterated me to keep all this inside at his confession.
The pain is so visceral, I feel the need to search my flesh for gaping wounds. So I let myself be weak, just for a minute.
For that minute, I let myself cry and feel it all: my suffocating lungs, my shattered heart, the soft and tender places once hidden behind defensive walls now laid bare to be shredded and choked by thorny vines.
I can't stay like this, can't let this breaking be anything other than a reminder not to give others the power to hurt me ever again.
As quickly as I can manage it, I call on that superpower I've always had and shove my inconvenient emotions way down deep where the magic is.
Taking one broken breath and then another, I fight to lock my icy armor in place, leaving only a crack for the anger that pushes me forward.
Its familiar burn doesn't feel like strength in this quiet bubble of ours, though.
It feels ugly and harsh and won't settle under my skin like it usually does.
The pain keeps rising to take its place.
Finally, I make myself look at him. "That's all I need to know.
" My tone is clipped, harsh and foreign, and he flinches, no doubt hearing the change too.
All too aware I'm only wearing his shirt, I climb off the bed and drag my pack out of his line of sight.
Pulling on fresh leathers, I try to shove away the memory of Zenn taking me to the clothiers all those weeks ago.
I can't ignore the way the imbued magic seems to caress me as it slides over my body. At least one part of him still likes me, or maybe it’s just committed to the lies. Who knows?
"Please." His voice is a small, raw, rough scrape of sound. My head jerks up; he's managed to turn toward me and is watching with so much sorrow, I falter over the closures on my jacket. The outfit must be making my intentions clear, if drugging him hadn't.
For once, he can't stop me, can't protect me from what I'm about to do. His desperate plea gives me a whisper of hope for the briefest of seconds before I banish it. I can't think like that, not anymore.
I meet his stare. It's devastating to imagine the next time that sapphire gaze is fixed on me, it will be full of loathing. I allow the thought to solidify the ice around my heart again, filling in the cracks I foolishly let it thaw, now it will become a gods damn glacier.
No more falling for secret smiles hiding lies. No more good mornings. No more starlit coffees. I will the ice further into my veins, freezing my tears, sealing away the soft bits. I'll never forgive him, and I know he won’t forgive me.
Zenn's eyes widen in shock, and when I look down at myself, I realize I took it a little too far.
Every strand of hair is covered in a sparkling layer of white frost, tiny icicles dripping from my shoulders, arms, and even my ears.
Fat flakes of snow swirl around me, landing on the leathers. Fucking perfect.
Biting my lip, I give a small shrug and rush to grab a towel and dust myself off without explanation.
Hopefully, when he wakes, he'll think he imagined it.
"No need to mention that when–" My words cut off when I look back at him after clearing away the ice.
His eyes are closed. The salixa finally did its job and knocked him out, and I missed my final moments with him.
It feels like a whole new loss as I stare down at the worry-free face now smoothed in peaceful unconsciousness.
Allowing myself one last weak moment, I bend down to brush my lips against his temple, right near that streak of gold I adore.
My foolish heart, so blinded by his beauty, is still lying, swearing there are tear tracks trailing down his cheeks.
I need to leave now, before my resolve wavers.
I can't be here for another second, can't be near these people I hoped maybe I was starting to belong with.
Shoving the last of my belongings into my pack, I flip Bri's notebook open to slide the shards of Dex’s dagger inside—when a name leaps off the top of the page.
Caralumia.
The ingredient she mentioned last night.
Why is it shouting at me this morning? She didn't even know what it was, so why would I?
I search my memory, and nothing resonates—until it does.
And when it does, the monumental truth clangs through me like a struck bell.
Zenn's words float up from the past to make the whole damn picture click into place.
"Hortica had to make me the most disgusting daily tonic from, I think it was lumacaria extract, to dampen access to my magic so it didn’t consume me."
Not lumacaria. Caralumia.
We assumed it affected the ginsenga in the supplement, that the energy-boosting properties were being diminished. We were wrong, so very wrong.
The fucking nutrient supplement is a gods damn magic suppressant.