Page 168 of Ashes of Honor
Alexiares placed a calming hand on Amaia’s back as Yasmin froze, her face caught somewhere between horror and shock of such a creative threat. “Not to worry. We don’t believe that the whole end of the world meets screaming, crying, child thing.”
“Child thing—” Yasmin raised her brows, her round, plump lips pulled to the side. The comment was sure to set her off once she processed what he was saying.
She was … passionate about the little’s of the apocalypse. It was why she remained a teacher even in The After. She believed kids were the hope we couldn’t afford to lose. To Yasmin, there was no circumstance in which not having children running around was a curse and not a blessing. She’d wanted to be a mom since she was a girl, a dream only halted at the onset of all, well,this.
“About time you finally spoke up,” I said, finding control over the conversation.
Amaia’s had whipped toward me, her jaw dropping ever so slightly, eyes narrowed.
I shrugged with a smirk. “I was starting to get offended.”
“How did?—”
“Reina,” Amaia and I said in unison, cutting off Alexiares’s questioning.
Amaia’s fists clenched, jaw now tight, but it was all a facade. Reina would only tell family, never someone outside of it. “I’m going to kill her.”
“Glad you’re getting it out the way,” I said, enjoying the rare moment of being the group instigator, “because what she and Abel have planned for when we get back is made of your worst nightmare.”
“Abel knows too?” Amaia groaned, taking a step back. Suckerpunch was already curled up on her boots, snoring softly.
“Everyone knows,” I stated the obvious. “It’s Reina.”
Amaia exhaled. “Can this be a secret, please?”
Ah. There it was.The look. I hated when she did that. The one that screamed ‘please Riley the best big brother ever.’It won me over every time.
“Why are you—” Realization set in. Now this, I had not expected. My mouth fell open. “You want me to marry you?”
“Fuck,” Alexiares scoffed lacking all patience. “Tookyoulong enough to get there.”
I swallowed hard, trying to find steady ground. This was no light favor. This wasus—what we’d lost, all that we still carried. Jax, who was basically my brother and her everything. Prescott, the steady hand who’d held us both together. They were gone, but their voices lived in the cracks between every memory.
Amaia stood there, the last piece of the life we once knew, staring at me as though she was holding on by a thread. This was it. Just us. The last one’s standing and our lives no longer looked as they did when our favorite people were still alive. We’d changed, grown, stepped into ourselves out of necessity in theirabsence. Alexiares held her hand, his thumb brushing over her shaking fingers.
I pulled her into a hug, squeezing the air out of her as I closed my eyes against the tears threatening to spill over. Yasmin had gone quiet, her usual sharp edges softened. The sketchbook lay forgotten in her lap, and her lips quivered as though she was swallowing her own grief.
“What an honor,” I whispered.
Ragingwaves crashed against the rocks near the drop off. I leaned against a giant mound of hard earth, holding up a cracked mirror as Amaia fussed over the most trivial aspects of herself.
“So there’s nothing in my teeth?” she asked for the third time, her brows furrowed as she checked her reflection.
“No, Amaia. Nothing. You’re fine,” I replied, biting back a laugh.
“The liner? Is it too much?”
“It’s perfect.”
“What about my hair?” She pulled it up, then let it fall.
I’d been around enough women in my life to know to say the exactoppositeof what I think and carefully—so no, the liner around her eyes wasn’t too much and yes, she should definitely wear her hair up. It was humorous seeing her this way, but she looked beyond words. From the girl who’d cornered me in a cave not too far from here, with fire in her eyes, to the beautiful woman who was confident in her power … I only wished the others could be here to see it. She caught me smiling and scowled.
“Don’t start,” she muttered, smoothing the lace of her dress.
“Not saying a word.”Shit, don’t cry. But it was hard not to, she made me so proud.
The orange and pink hues of the sky reflected off her billowing, cream dress. Intricate lace with delicate, pastel flowers hung off her sculpted frame, sweeping down and across the toe of her shoes. A green slithering snake went up the side of the sleeve. It was far from the traditional dress—exactly like her. Down to the Dr. Martens planted on her feet. She smacked her lips together, dotting some reddish powder across them and patting it onto her cheeks.
