Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“Maybe because you are fae,” Skylar says. “And it is tragic to see someone so riddled with self-loathing.”
“I didn’t ask for some ancient faerie queen’s blood,” I snap. “I do not wish to be fae, and I despise everyone treating me like I am so gods-damned lucky to have never been given a choice in the matter.”
“Oh, you poor little—”
“Let it go, Skylar,” Kendrick says.
She holds his gaze for a long time. Tension fills the air before suddenly falling away, as if it were never there. “No problem.” She hops to her feet and brushes the dirt off her pants. “Remme, why don’t you come check the perimeter with me while these two dig around in her head?”
Remme stands and awkwardly surveys the group before following her. “Let us know how it goes.”
I bow my head, listening to the crunch of his boots in the leaves as he walks away.
“Don’t think of it as faerie or human,” Kendrick says beside me. “Think of this as a weapon—something to wield when you find yourself facing your enemies.”
But what if I use it and realize I’m no better than them? What if this drive for revenge isn’t just about justice but something dark inside me—the part of me that relishes others’ pain in my dreams, the part of me that wants Mordeus to live for no reason other than how desperately I want to be the one to kill him for good?
Kendrick reaches for my hand and squeezes. “I’ll be right here the whole time. Okay?”
I nod. Because he’s right. I should know what I’m capable of. When they caught me and took my cloak, I had no defenses against them—and they only have human magic. If I’m captured again without my ring and by someone who truly wants to hurt me, I need as much power as I can get.
Natan moves to sit at my side but turns his body to face me. He taps my knee with his fingers. “Turn this way?”
Taking a breath, I swallow down my fear and do as he asks.
“This is your magic.” Natan’s brown eyes meet mine and there’s so much kindness there, I feel myself relax. “You don’t need to fear it. It answers to you. You are its master.”
“Okay,” I whisper. It’s like the ring. I decide when I use it. I decide how.
“Close your eyes.”
I obey and feel his hands settle on my knees.
“Now I want you to lower your mental shields. You’re safe here. It’s just me and Kendrick, and you can bring your shields back up at any time.”
When Misha taught me to shield, I imagined mine built from the same cinder blocks that made the walls of our tiny basement bedroom at my aunt’s house. It’s thick and heavy, and I imagine taking it down block by block to clear a path in for Natan.
“Good,” he says. “That’s enough. Now I want you to remember a time when you were happy and safe. What do you see? How do you feel?”
I don’t answer his questions out loud, but I’m there. In that stupid little basement room that was never intended to be a bedroom, that was never intended to be a home for anyone. It was cold and dark and far too small for two growing girls. Brie hated it. She hated it more than she hated Madame Vivias, I think, but I didn’t. It wasn’t much, but it was our space, and when we were there, the rest of the world went away.
There were no windows, but I was never afraid of the dark when we were in that room. Because I’d never known the horrors I’d face in Faerie. And because Brie was with me.
I let myself imagine lying on the bed, sleepiness making my lids heavy as Brie dresses for the day. She’s telling me a story about our spoiled cousins—the girls who live upstairs who we’re forced to serve and clean up after when we’re not at our other jobs. They’re brash and dreadfully cruel and treat us like we should thank them for the opportunity to wash their clothes, but I don’t care about any of that because I’m with my sister and in this moment she’s not so stressed. In this moment, she doesn’t feel the weight of our debts weighing so heavily on her. She’s happy, so I’m happy.
“Good job, Jas,” Natan says. “You’re doing great. Now I need you to imagine something that scares you.”
My hands clench at my sides, nails biting into my palms.
“Shh. It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re just picturing this fear, nothing more. Take a breath, Jas. Breathe and imagine a moment you were terrified. It doesn’t have to be your worst memory. Just pick a moment of true fear.”
My lungs burn when I finally force myself to draw in air. Then my hot tears are rolling down my cheeks.