Page 143 of The Incendiary

Dead bodies of all ages, shapes, sizes were sprawled across this village. Innocents piled up like slaughtered cattle. If I were to look at my reflection, the only skin visible beneath the blood on my face was carved by the tracks of my tears.

I remembered her smiling and laughing on a castle rooftop and forced the rest away. My body flooded with joy that warmed the black tar off my soul. And I knew, even though I could choose to end my life now, that while Molochai’s magic kept me from aging, not dying, I wouldn’t give in.

No amount of suffering could make me leave her. Perhaps, besides her own.

“What have you done?” someone shuddered beside me. I recognized him the moment I drifted out of my blood-soaked haze. Simeon Whitlock.

How had he found me? How long had I been standing among the dead?

“I did what I had to do,” I answered numbly.

“How?”

“A blood oath.” I stared down at my hands, caked in the dried blood of my victims. “With my father. I kill on his command in exchange for immortality.” I winced. “I told you, Whitlock, that you would not stop me.”

“A blood oath! Gods!” he choked in horror. “I should have known you would be just like him! Utterly consumed by obsession that masquerades as love.”

I closed my eyes and shed another tear. For these innocent people Molochai treated like game. For all that had and ever would die by my hand.

“You share his blood and nothing more,” she’d assured me.

Perhaps it’s not just his blood that I share after all, my love.

“She’ll never love you like this, Smyth,” Simeon’s voice followed me as I retreated from the carnage. “She’ll hate you once she learns what you’ve become.”

He was right. There was no redemption for this. For me. But there could be freedom, strength, and power for her. On her terms, not his.

“I know.” My heart and mind grew numb to my new reality. My time with her had run out. She would never truly be mine again, but I could see her smile. Hear her laugh. Even if from afar. That alone sent warmth flooding into my cold, empty chest. “But I love her.”

“That won’t change anything!”

“No,” I answered, not caring if he heard me as I walked away. “But it’s enough.”

FORTY-ONE

ARYELLA

Stay vigilant at all times. Do not let your guard down. Molochai and his beasts aren’t the only evil in this world. You never know what lurks inside fortress walls, when you think you are safe.

—EXCERPT FROM THE BUTCHER OF NYRIDA’S LAST KNOWN LETTERS TO QUEEN ARYELLA I

“Fera?”

“It’s Ary,” a deeper voice hissed. “Or… Aryella?”

“Is that a question?”

“No, it’s her name.”

“I know her name, you nitwit!” the female voice snapped back. Mina. “I figured I’d see which one she responded to since she’s out of it, but you never gave me the chance!”

My eyes fluttered open. I groaned, lifting my palm to my forehead. Pain throbbed between my temples. Our cabin was just bright enough to illuminate the twins sitting beside me. A little too close and curious.

“Sorry,” I croaked through a parched throat, forcing myself upright. The room spun in lopsided circles. “I’m not feeling well.”

“I imagine you’re not.” Mavic steadied my shoulders. “You’ve been asleep for sixteen hours.”

“We would have let you keep sleeping, but you really should eat or drink something.” Mina offered me a cup of water. I tried to swallow, but my throat scraped like it was layered with sand.