He’ll make me pay for striking him.
ChapterForty-Nine
As the moon rises above the mountains, I find a small alley where I conceal myself. Quick, painful breaths escape me as I slouch against the stone wall. Tonight didn’t go how I planned. Nothing did.
My gaze lowers to the cursed mark on my wrist. Gabriel wanted to use me.
My chest aches as I ball my fingers into fists. I used him to get closer to Astarobane and his people. He used me because he thinks I can bring magic back.
Olah, help me.
I have never felt more alone. Not even after Mother died.
My arm burns where he struck me. He’ll have a bruise on his neck by morning.
We were always supposed to be enemies.
I stare up at the moon glimmering overhead. How it mocks me with its brightness. Its cheerfulness.
I need to escape this place, to run as fast as I can.
But I cannot.
I planned for ten summers, ten long tedious summers of hating Roland and wanting to avenge Mother.
If I kill Hector, the Bloodstone people will turn on me. They will hammer my body with arrows.
The cold, harsh truth impales me with its reality. It’s starkness. I know what I must do. I have always known.
I will kill Hector.
Then, I will die too.
ChapterFifty
It takes all my training to stay hidden during the night and the following morning.
Soldiers move around the city just like the day before as they prepare to flee. Nobody seems to search for me.
Though, I don’t doubt Gabriel is looking. Nobody looks as fierce as he did last night and then willingly gives up. Especially, when they believe that woman will bring magic back to their people.
I bury myself further in my straw tomb. It has left a terrible itch all over my body. I resist the urge to scratch. Instead, I keep still and mentally prepare myself for the next step.
If I hear people talking about Hector again, I’ll try to listen.
I stole two throwing knives earlier from one of the weaponsmiths. He never looked up from his anvil when I sneaked into his shop.
The reality of what I must do sinks beneath my skin. The moment I step from my hiding spot and kill Hector, my life here is over. The life I built with Gabriel is over.
Oh, Gabriel.
He used me. Maybe everything he said to me was a lie. I frown. I used him too, and I certainly didn’t always speak lies. I was drawn to him. I did want him to bed me.
If I weren’t hiding in this pile of straw, I’d stare at my binding tattoo—the one he picked for me. Maybe it was never supposed to be more than an ornament on my wrist—proof I wed a Bloodstone.
From the cracks in the stables, voices carry to where I sit.
“…Hector is coming.”
