“Why?” My voice is a whisper. He pulls his hair back, and though half of Ethan’s face is coated in blood, I can’t look away.
“Tell me about Rosie and how you met?”
“I’m not telling you shit about her.” I jerk against his aura.
“So be it.” By far the most sinister grin I’ve seen lifts his right cheek, and if fear eluded me before, its presence is now known.Stalking to my jewelry box, he lifts the lid, retrieving an item with one last glance my way.
“What are you–put that back!” I shout, seeing him hold up Rosie’s bracelet, but he refuses. Instead he stalks back to me whilst examining it.
“Who. Is. Rosie? Lie to me, and this room will run red with your blood.” Though he masks it well, trepidation twitches against his expression. What he holds is my most prized possession. Does it have some kind of connection to him? But what?
“There he is. Mr. Big Bad himself. The fay every student fears. But you’re mistaken if you think your threats hold weight. Now put it back. I’m warning you.” Danger growls, sparking light from the darkest pit of my core, ensuring my grip remains firm on both weapons and that my crystal dagger still lingers.
He draws closer, not taking his eyes off me for a second. The vein in his neck builds around the blood drying there. Ethan can heal himself, yet he isn’t. Instead, he uses his pain as fuel.
“Or what, Kyra?” He flicks a wrist, tracing golden sigils along my walls, locking us in. He wants an all-out fight. “If you require it, come get it.” Releasing his aura’s hold on me, he places her gift inside his sweatpants’ pocket. Then he manifests a spear.
It’s an invitation I would accept normally, but not under these circumstances. Dissolving my metal blades, I approach, keeping one of my creations out of sight. “Tell me what’s going on,” I plead, searching his golden-red eyes for any trace of an explanation. “If there’s no way around this conversation, so be it. But you’re holding hostage the one thing I have left from the most important person to me.”
“Now you plead to converse after rejecting my offer. More tricks from your mother.” He scowls.
“You keep bringing her up like she’s done anything for me. You can’t imagine what my life was like before coming here. For someone who claims to have all the answers, it appears you don’t. If you want them, ask the fucking questions and give me back my bracelet.”
He watches me, not speaking but not making a move either.
“Fine, I’ll start. Rosie is–was my best friend. She saved me from drowning in a life that pulled me under its viscous tide of torture and agony. My life raft,” I choke, reminiscing. But I refrain from crying, fighting my tears back.
“Saved, how?”
“She found me dying in the memories of my past. She was a fucking kind soul, better than anyone I could’ve deserved. She appeared out of nowhere with a voice so consuming I knew being around her I’d be safe.” I trail off, having failed at holding my emotions back. But not once did my gaze turn away. He wants my pain; here it is.
Memories resurface as more anguish lays my soul bare. I miss her so damn much. Being here without her, yet because of her–these feelings are like blades to my chest. When I force them back down, it’s like losing Rosie all over again.
“What’s her surname?”
“Why does that matter?” I ask, wiping my cheeks, yet he remains silent. *Sigh* “Cirlek, Rosie Cirlek.”
“Her…” He swallows, using his spear to keep balance as he grips it tighter. “Her favorite flower, what was it?”
A li…lily.I gasp, taking a step back.Rosie Cirlek. C. I. No, start at the back, K. E. L. R. I. Oh my God, how did I not put it together after seeing their files.
“What!” he begs. “What realization did you deduce!” Slamming his spear into the polished floor, he hides the cracking of his voice.
I reduce my tone, mouthing on a whisper, “Lily. Her favorite flower was a lily.” The very same I placed on her casket. Ethan stalks over, dragging his weapon’s tip along my floor, wearing nothing short of hatred along his features. But I can’t move. This realization doesn’t make sense.
Reaching inside his other pocket, he hands over a slightly burned photo with four kids. A boy who appears to be older than all of them but not by much, with a delightful smile, draws myattention first. This part of the photo is burned, I’m sure by the lightening attack, so it’s hard getting more of his likeness.
Next, a younger version of Alex, whose hair was parted by the tips of his elvish ears. Ethan, much smaller than he is now, scowling and tucking a lock of hair behind…his ears.Glancing up, I notice they’re not the same. I peer down, seeing the last fay. A little girl with a likeness of…Rosie.
Above them are each of their names, and I home in on his sister’s. ‘Liliane Kelric.’ But there is a wobbly slash through the ‘iane,’ replaced by a ‘y,’That’s adorable.My heart skips as I feel his loss of her beautiful soul.
“What do you see?” he asks, and I sense the muscles in his throat are burned raw. “Look at her wrist.” Pulling the photo closer, I see it. A bracelet identical to mine. Different shapes are etched into its metal, but it’s unmistakable.But how’d he know this was in my room? He had to have been in here after I received it.
“I–I don’t know what this means, how is–”
Choking, my hands wrap around Ethans arm. His fingers dig into my throat as he drives me back, severing the oxygen from my lungs.
“Enough talking. I’m done playing you and your mother’s game.” My back collides with the wall, banging my head. “She sent you to kill her, didn’t she?” he growls with a promise of death, banging me once more into the wall.
