Page 56 of The Blood Rites

Heat floods my face immediately, proving her point.

“He’s a monster,” I mutter.

Even saying it feels weak.

“Monsters can still be beautiful."

The image of him flashes through my mind instantly: blood-spattered, furious, terrifying. And yes, beautiful.

“He’s not like us,” I say quietly.

“No,” Marissa agrees. “But he looks at you like you’re important.”

I laugh under my breath. “He barely knows me.”

“Maybe that doesn’t matter.”

She says it so easily that I know she still believes in things like love and fate. I wish I could.

“Only one of us survives this place,” I remind her softly.

Her smile fades. “I know.”

The silence that follows feels heavier than before.

“If it comes down to it,” I say eventually, “I want you to live.”

Her eyes widen immediately. “Luceris—”

“I mean it.”

“That’s insane.”

“Probably.”

I force a smile I don’t entirely feel. “But I couldn’t live with myself otherwise.”

Emotion finally cracks through the composure she’s been clinging to all evening. She curls into me, trembling slightly.

“I’m scared,” she whispers. “What if I freeze?”

I wrap my arms around her automatically. “You won’t.”

“But what if I do?”

I close my eyes briefly. “Then I’ll protect you.”

The promise settles heavily between us. It’s too large. Too impossible.

But I mean it anyway.

We sit together beneath the fractured ceiling for a long time after that, tracing the glowing fractures overhead.

For a little while, I almost believe survival is still possible.

I expect to dread dinner, but the communal hall has a strange calm about it. Tables are set with finery: bowls of soup, thick-cut bread, and ornate glass goblets filled with the clearest water I’ve ever seen.

The hunger twisting inside me is for more than food. I want noise. Company. Anything that makes this place feel less like a tomb.