Nerves tighten in my throat as I bunch my hands against my waist and let out a long breath. “Explain to me how you helped give Everly magic?”
A muscle twitches in his jaw. “She told you?”
A sharp spark of disappointment flares in my stomach like an unwelcome guest. So, it’s true. He kept this from me.
“You should have known she would.”
He grimaces and swipes his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to tell you.”
“Then why didn’t you, Hector?” I clench my hands together, needing to not fall apart, needing to not hate him for this.
“I knew if I told you, you would only resent me and my people,” he says, his words low, as though they pain him. “You would shun this, Sol.Youwould shunme. And I could not bear to have you shun me.”
Sadness grips my chest, my veins, my bones. “None of that justifies you keeping this a secret from me.”
“What other choice did I have?” he asks, his words heart-wrenching. “You hate Bloodstone magic.”
“Just tell me how?” I press a shaky hand against my stomach, trying to lessen the ache. It only intensifies, as if someone plunges a knife into my body.
“Mildred’s relics and the black book you have seen me with.” Hector pours himself a goblet of wine and sits near me, but instead of drinking it, he clenches the stoneware between his hands.
A book can give people magic?
How is that possible?
“Then why do you want to take me to the cave of reflection?”
“I don’t.”
His answer rings in my ears.I don’t.
“You let me believe you did.”
“I thought I did until Mildred told me I didn’t need the cave of reflection to help my people.”
“How long have you known?” I stab my thumbnail into my left palm, needing that grounding.
A vein throbs in his forehead as he sets his goblet down and reaches for my hand, but I recoil.
Sadness sparks behind his eyes. “Sol,please. I cannot bear for you to be angry with me.”
Frustration seizes me as I stab harder. “How long, Hector?”
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Just tell me,” I say through clenched teeth
A frown pulls at his mouth. “A few weeks.”
“And in all of that time, you never thought to tell me?” I jerk my hands apart and look away from him as I think of all those nights we spent together. All those moments where we reveled in each other.
It meant nothing to him. It can’t. Otherwise, he would have told me.
“I wanted to. Desperately.”
“And yet, you didn’t,” I say, not believing him.
“Every time I nearly spoke, I saw a divide open between us again. I saw your hatred for my people’s magic.” He continues, his heart-felt words chipping at my anger. “Felt your sorrow as you dealt with your Bloodstone magic. I thought if I told you the truth, it would cause more conflict.”
