Page 156 of The Incendiary

Could both things be true at the same time?

Was I betraying them by mourning him?

What did that make me? Could I even move forward? Could I be their queen while loving the memory of him?

Gods, save me.

I searched in circles for reasons and answers. Begged for a way out. If I shattered the mold of my mind, maybe something would become clearer among the wreckage.

Nothing was clear. Nothing felt safe or warm or good.

I wanted to rip out my hair and my consciousness with it. I needed silence. I needed to run, run, run away from this feeling, because it wasn’t something I could survive.

But the door opening and a familiar voice saved me from my own spiraling thoughts. Or damned me back to reality. I hadn’t decided yet.

“All right. Up you get.” Mavic’s arms slid beneath my body. I kept my eyes closed, even as I felt a gentle breeze across my bruised cheek, and he lifted me up.

“I promised her we’d leave her be until she was ready,” said Mina.

Mavic’s chest rose and fell against my shoulder. “Well, Mina, there’s no way we’re leaving our friend and our queen on the cold bathroom floor all night.”

At least he called me his friend before his queen.

Mina pulled back my bedcovers, and Mavic laid me down, facing away from them. I groaned as pain shot through my core and all my extremities. It was everywhere.

“You’re safe in here, Ary.” Mavic brushed a caring hand over my shoulder. “I promise. On my life.”

“Mina?” I whispered, throat crackly and dry, before she could walk away.

She was at my side in an instant. “What do you need?”

I couldn’t have who I needed. I couldn’t tell her that, no matter how badly I wanted to.

“Thank you.” When I attempted a smile, my face throbbed and tightened with pain. I must have been bruised there, too.

I didn’t hear Mina’s answer. I closed my eyes and pretended to be back in the dream I’d had on the shower floor. Gods, I hoped it had been real.

Maybe he had made one final stop before he left this world for good. Or maybe it had just been my mind’s way of coping with the fact that he was never coming back.

At least in the dream, I had told him I loved him.

FORTY-SIX

ELIAS WINTERTON

I’d fucked up.

I paced back and forth in my quarters for three hours before I found the courage to face Fera. To mend the rift I’d caused between us. She had become my friend. My body wished for more, and my mind wasn’t sure what the hell it wanted. But whatever she was to me, she deserved more than I gave her in the infirmary.

The Butcher was dead. I was another step closer to liberating my people from living in fear, but it didn’t feel as triumphant as it should have, knowing someone I cared about had been hurt. First by four men twice her size, and then by me.

I had always told myself that Gerard compensated for his questionable ethics with his skill and effective brutality. The three that trailed behind him followed orders with precision and without argument. They had no compassion. Sometimes, that had been exactly what I needed.

But now, they were nowhere to be found, just as she told me they would be.

And I hadn’t fucking believed her.

I’d already sent troops after them. As for Fera, all I could think to do was grovel for how poorly I’d handled the situation. Which was why, at five o’clock in the morning, I stood outside the cabin she shared with the Reed twins, impatiently waiting. I’d been nauseous since she left the infirmary. I needed to resolve this with her.