I whipped my head toward Collin, seeing him more plainly than ever before.
“I am going with her,” Nora declared, marching up to me as I walked past Collin and up the stairs. Gregory stood by the balcony doors, waiting. Seeing him fully, he had been right. The blue brought out his eyes.
“No, you will not,” Collin stated. “You will stay here.”
“She shouldn’t be alone,” Nora told him, coming up to my side, grabbing my hand.
“Think of your offspring,” Collin urged, a potency to his tone that ripped me apart.
Nora whirled toward Collin, a force. “You will not use my offspring against me,” she seethed through her teeth. “You will not involve them. You willneverinvolve them, do you understand me?”
“No,” Collin said, holding his ground. “I won’t. But we both knowtheywill.”
Nora took several steps back like she had been smacked. Gregory trembled, his mouth a thin line. He wasn’t looking at me. All of him was directed at Nora. The confession I had heard at the Pond. The tinkling voice in answer. I had not been able to find Nora. How had I missed it?
“Arabella is almost of age,” Collin said. “They will use her to get to you.”
Nora released my hand as a single tear rolled down her face. “You wouldn’t.”
Gregory took only two steps when Nora locked eyes with him, and he stopped, his hands fisted tightly at his sides. His entire body shook like it took every ounce of willpower not to close the distance.
Phillip took a step back as he just watched. “The Force will be ready in twenty,” he said quietly.
“I am fine, Nora. Stay here.” I grabbed Gregory’s arm, steering him toward the Pod that sat outside. “Let’s go.”
Collin grabbed my hand, stopping me. I let him, only to deliver the thing he had broken. “Speaking plainly, I wish you hadn’t.”
“Hadn’t what?”
“Chosen me,” I said, pulling my hand out of his. “You chose wrong.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MINUTES LATER, I SAT IN THE POD WITH GREGORY. HIS EYEShad filled with a sorrow I never wanted to know. “Thank you,” he muttered quietly.
“I didn’t have anything to do with you being in blue,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, little sister. It didn’t faze me.”
“How could it not?”
“It is just a color. It held no power until they told you it did. They told me to wear it, so I did.” Gregory smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Family fuckup, remember? It would seem it is just me again, now that you are the Illum’s puppet.”
“I am not.” My plan gathered speed at his words.
“After tonight, in the eyes of the Elite, you are.”
“I don’t want to be,” I said.
Gregory took off his jacket, tossing it to the ground. “If the Illum have taught me anything, it’s that they don’t give a shit about what you want.”
“Any advice for me?”
Gregory stretched out over the seat, lying down, folding his hands behind his head as he stared at the night sky. “Yes. Never care about anyone. The less you care about, the less you have to lose.”
“And if it’s too late for that?” Because I cared. I cared about those offspring and their birth mothers. I cared about the man they had killed. I cared about Violet’s injuries and her hidden love for Rose. I cared about Lo and her need to prove her mother wrong. I cared about Nora—about what they had put her through. I cared about Gregory. I cared about what the Illum had done to Hal. I cared so much, I felt as if I might break under the weight of it all. I cared about . . .
The Pod plummeted to the ground. I welcomed the drop, letting go of the last thing I thought I cared about, the plummet ripping any feelings for Collin away—leaving it among his clouds and the horrors I had found there.
