Page 83 of Empress of Ruin
“Little Bird,” Killian says softly. “You should be asleep.”
A humorless laugh bubbles through my lips. “Should I be?”I might never see you again, I want to scream, but I can’t seem to find the anger. I can’t even bring myself to whisper that particular truth.
Killian joins me on the couch, tucking me into his side and pulling the cashmere throw blanket over both of us. “I should be able to stall them,” he says. “Maybe only for a few days, but it’ll be something.”
No, it won’t be. Ourliterallast hope is Carter, though for some reason, I don’t want to tell Killian as much. I don’t want to risk getting his hopes up only to imagine them getting crushed when Carterdoesn’tpull through.
When three judges cast their votes against him, and—
I bury my head in Killian’s shoulder, curling my hands into his suit jacket. Already, he’s wearing a suit jacket—he must be expecting to leave soon. I don’t cry, I’m not sure I’m hydrated enough to produce more tears, but I hold him close.
“I need you to know something before you go.” My voice is wobbly, and I don’t have the strength to look at him, but he should know what I’ve grown to feel. What I’ve probably felt for much longer than I’ll ever admit to anyone, including myself.
“I’m all ears, Little Bird,” he says softly.
“Somewhere along the line, between your domineering nature that hid the natural caretaker in you, and the utterbastardwho only melted whenImelted for him… I fell for you.” I swallow, squeezing my eyes shut. “I only started accepting the possibility of it the night you let me take that video of you. Before then… before then, I was so fucking angry, and still in denial. But, before you go, you have to know that. If I never see you again,you have to know that I love you. It’s not a normal love—it’s inherently violent and… greedy. Somewhere along the line, you worked some magic that made me greedy for you, and the thought that I won’t see you again after todaydestroysme—”
Killian fists his hand in my hair, tilts my head up, and fuses his lips to mine, not wasting any time. He’s ravenous for me, tongue seeking entry, and I open to him automatically, letting him in and offering myself up. Killian’s always intense and passionate, but the way he kisses me right now goes beyond the scope of mere passion—it’s pure possession, animalistic and raw, and I lap up every inch of it.
That is, until a throat clears. I break away from Killian, glancing at the patio entrance, heart stuttering when I see that it’s Locke, wearing a grim expression.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but the Eyes are downstairs,” he says seriously.
Killian leans in to give me one, last lingering kiss. I start praying to whatever higher power might believe me—
“And they’ve explicitly requested both of you to join,” Locke says. “I’ve had the team scope out the building and security. They have the place surrounded. There’s no way to get Lyra out alive.”
A strange calm washes over me. Some of my biggest issues with Killian leaving were never seeing him again, him dying alone, and me being forced to somehow figure out how to live without that. As horrible as me being forced to join this tribunal might be to him, it has the opposite effect on me. I’m relieved.
“Stall them for five minutes while I get dressed?” I say.
“Lyra,no—”
“Killian.” I cup his cheek with the hand wearing his engagement ring. “Let’s not waste time arguing, hm? Locke would’ve been able to tell if we had the faintest chance in hell of getting out of this. Let’s face it head on how we should:together.
The drive upstate is hours and hours long. We’re ushered into a car belonging to the Eyes, driven by security for the Eyes, the moment we step out of the elevator and to the lobby.
At least I get several hours with Killian. We don’t talk, and the windows in the backseat are completely blacked out, preventing us from seeing where we’re going. A partition blocks the front of the car. For the few hours that we sit, entwined, there’s a sense of peace in the air. Whatever happens, happens. I’m tired of fighting, being resentful, and holding grudges.
I do spend quite a lot of time praying that Carter managed to do what Cain failed to, but I know the likelihood of that is extremely low. I guess I’ll find out.
Killian’s lips remain pressed against my forehead for the majority of the ride, and he holds me tightly, with a tiny tremble in his hands. This magnificent, horrible, terrifying man is actuallyafraidof what will happen. And I’m willing to wager he’s not frightened for himself—he’s afraid forme.
“Everything will be okay,” he whispers when the car rolls to a stop and the front door opens. I give him a wan smile, right before his door opens and he’s torn from my arms.
An ancient courtroom is where we’re taken after being separated for a time. A courtroom that appears to be setup in whatwas once a religious chapel that’s now been perverted for the purpose of the corrupt passing judgement they’ve earned no right to wield.
In some ways, it mimics a modern courtroom; defendant table, plaintiff’s table, rows of filled benches for spectators behind them. In other ways, it’s rather different; a long, stone table seats the five judges, and there’s a small platform before them, potentially for any witnesses that will be called.
I lock eyes with Carter as soon as I arrive. He’s seated in the front row, just behind the table where Killian is. He meets my eye, tilts his head to the side, rakes his gaze up and down me, and then looks away.
My heart drops into my stomach. He has nothing. Godfuckingdamnit—
Now there’s really no hope, and the outcome of today really is decided. Killian and I are both going to die.
Instead of being led to the seating behind the tables or to Killian’s table, I’m led to the side of the judges’ table, where there’s a smaller stone table, which the security guard leading me promptlychains me to. I’m in full view of the entire court, including Killian, who I momentarily realize isalsochained to his table—as is Silas.
I guess the Eyes really don’t fuck around when it comes time for a trial.
