Millicent stays curled in my arms inside the carriage. I comb through the knots in her hair. I take my time, memorizing each strand. I don’t know if what happened was her or something inside her. I can’t decide what’s worse.
My fingers drift across her cheek, tracing the slope of her nose. Maybe her beauty is a blessing from her dark gods, or maybe it’s a weapon, just like her. Either way, it hurts.
She’s not just a memory that haunts me. I mourned her, but she’s still carved into me. A brand, just as permanent as the scars on my back.
The trap worked, and I’m the one caught in it.
Desiring her pisses me off. She loves only herself—and Oliver, a piece of herself made whole. Loving Millicent isn’t a choice. We can never go back to what we were.
I need to survive her.
It’s a slow brutal bleed. And still, some part of me, some damned sliver, would bleed for her forever.
I would have bled for her back then, too. Now? She is something else entirely, someone else entirely. I remind myself again—Millicent did die that night. The happy, trusting, kind girl is gone.
Sleep takes me eventually, but it’s a shallow thing, restless, like everything else she leaves behind.
MILLICENT SQUIRMS AS I TRY to pat her bloody knee clean.
“Millie, quit it. You’re being a big baby,” I say, using my elbow to pin her tiny thigh down.
“I’m not a baby! It hurts! You’re burning it!” she yells, pushing on my back with all the rage a five-year-old can muster.
“It’ll get infected if I don’t,” I mutter, cleaning more quickly. She pounds on my back with her fists, whining until I finally get the bandage on.
I sit back on my heels, catching my breath. She inspects her knee with a suspicious glare.
“Thank you,” she mumbles reluctantly, but she’s sincere.
Seeing her upset makes something ache in me. Millicent is all I have now. She’s the only light left in this place, and I don’t want to ruin it.
“You’re not a baby, Millie,” I lie, trying to cheer her up. “I’d be crying way more than you.”
It works wonderfully, and her face lights up instantly. She hops up and grabs my hand, tugging me to my feet. She’s so small she can’t actually lift me, but I push off, letting her think she can.
“Yeah, you would!” She beams, chin high, like her pride is a badge of honor.
“CAGE!” MILLICENT YELLS, FEAR SHAKING her voice. She presses her back against a tree as I approach.
I freeze. “Whoa. Why are you afraid? What scared you?” I crouch to her level, keeping my voice calm.
“You,” she whispers. “You’rewhat I fear.”
My chest tightens. We were just playing tag. I never meant to scare her. Panic ceases me seeing her fear. “How do I scare you?”
“You were chasing me and not talking. Your eyes…I swear they turned black.” She comforts herself, holding her stuffed bunny close to her chest.
“Are my eyes black now?” I tease, trying to make her smile. Surely, she imagined it. My eyes do nothing of the sort.
She rolls her eyes.There she is. Her fiery attitude and spark returns. “Whatever. I’m hungry. Can we eat now?” She grabs two of my fingers.
Her touch chases away the cold ache her fear had left behind. I adjust our grip so her hand fits snug in mine. “Yeah. Let’s feed you.”
We walk together slowly. I match her little strides as we approach the dining hall. When we reach the doors, she starts whining in protest the way she always does.
“You know we can’t be seen together,” I remind her. “Go on. Arcadia’s probably waiting.”
She offers me her patched-up bunny with one button eye, and I take him. We’ve taken to sharing custody. In truth, it’s the only thing I sleep with now.
