Page 23 of The Last Guardian

I sobbed over what I had become.

Perhaps I deserved to suffer? To be nothing more than a plaything, an instrument?

I was nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

The word spun and oozed into my mind.

And everything stopped. Only a piercing scream in the background of my mind. Nevan’s body moved away from mine, and shards of glass exploded around me.

I collapsed to the ground.

IN THE DARKNESS, my hand reached ahead to feel for walls as my feet carried me toward a voice.

The voice wasn’t clear enough for me to make out the words—it was a pull. A force propelled me forward like a promise to find something. Something to hold on to, to remember.

A glint on my wrist forced me to look down; the mark was different from before. It shone on my skin, a sparkling blue glow.

The light… It helped me see through the darkness.

“Find me,” a dark voice whispered.

Was it death talking to me?

Before I could ask, the ground shook and split open. A large hole grew in the middle.

And I—fell.

I WOKE UP with a gasp.

My heart thundered in my chest. I closed my eyes—the sunlight too bright—as I slowly realized I was in my bed. Just a nightmare.

I sat up, resting my head against my knees for a moment. With long, deep breaths, I tried to regain my senses slowly, touching each of my fingertips with my thumb to calm the rising panic.

The ivory sheets tangled in my legs⁠—

I frowned, raising my head as I looked around. How did I end up in my bed? My thoughts blended into a tempest of emotion. What happened last night?

The ball.

Aurora’s engagement ball.

Dorian spoke with me while I searched for Zaidkiel… to talk about his tattoo. Lyra was there too. Yes, Lyra and Arthur danced. Aurora and Asael were filled with joy. Nevan and I walked in the gardens. The gardens!

Nevan.

His hand, uninvited.

His mouth violating my skin.

You won’t remember. Like always.

The moment replayed in my mind.

And nausea threatened, crept up. My stomach lurched, a bitter taste rising in my throat, and I stumbled out of bed, making my way to the bathroom with my hands pressed to my mouth.

Cold sweat clung to my skin, and I gripped the edge of the toilet; the sound of retching echoed; I could hardly hear it over the pounding in my ears.