Page 161 of Forsaking All Others

“All along this would have set me free.”

“Yes.”

“All this time, and you didn’t tell me? I stayed when I didn’t need to? I could have died!”

“I did everything in my power to ensure that didn’t happen.”

“All the things I went through! All the things I did!” She gasps. “I spent most of the show crying! This wasn’t fair of you, Jag. How could you do this?”

Cat gives me a long, measured look.

“So this was the plan all along. You had me protect Thorun because you knew she had the Life Token and you needed it to be in play for the final ceremony.”

“I’m not proud of it,” I scowl. “I second-guessed myself often as I got to know you both. You especially, Thorun,” I turn to her, “it pained me to see you suffer in the trials, to see people try to take your life. But I could see no other way of staying true to my vow not to kill innocent human women.”

“You sacrificed her for your honour,” Cat murmurs.

“She wasn’t sacrificed.”

“I could have been!” Thorun frowns, hands on hips. “And now you say I can go if I like? Home, to my friends and family and pets and the ice?”

“You won’t be able to go home, Thorun. I’m not going to lie to you. The token gets you out of the Game, but not out of danger. You’ll have to live in hiding for the rest of your life. But I’ll hide you well; you and your grandmother. You’ll live in luxury and want for nothing. Or you can stay and be my wife.”

“What do you mean?” Cat snaps. “Which of us do you want to marry?”

“The choice is yours,” I shrug. “There’s only one token. One of you must stay.”

“You’ve got to have some preference,” Cat insists.

I meet her eyes, but say nothing. If I were her, I’d take the token. Yet part of me hopes she doesn’t.

“Cat,” Thorun turns to her friend, “you got me this far. You saved my life, you sheltered me. I won’t take from you something you deserve. Take the coin and live your life — wreak your vengeance.”

She holds out her hand and offers the token to Cat, who to both our surprise, shakes her head and looks me in the eye.

“Neanche per sogno.”

“Not even for a dream,” Thorun whispers.

121

As Starlen goes apeshit and the director tries to mitigate the fallout from Jag’s announcement, Thorun turns to me and clasps my hands in hers.

“Cat, are you sure?”

I nod.

“You don’t want him, though, do you?” I whisper. “Thorun? You don’t want to marry Jag?”

“No,” she shakes her head, her expression grim, “but I would if it meant you got what you wanted.”

“Then everything has worked out,” I smile and squeeze her hands as Starlen describes me as an ‘Italian velociraptor,’ and Jag bursts out laughing.

“He’s what I want.”

122

I stand before the mirror in my tuxedo and try to straighten a tie that feels more like a boa constrictor around my throat.