Page 105 of The Incendiary

I didn’t know how or when I would do it, but I would kill Simeon Whitlock.

“I’m so sorry, Ella.” I held her face. “Your mother⁠—”

“She was the only thing keeping me in that castle. She was in so much pain. She was confused and hadn’t been herself for quite some time.” Grief washed over her, but she quickly shoved it down. She was good at that, and I hated that she needed to be. “We aren’t safe in the city anymore.” She looked up at me, fear and hope warring in her eyes. “I’m putting you in danger, being here with you⁠—”

“Stop.” I shook my head. She wasn’t turning back on me now.

She loved me, and there was nothing in any universe that could make me give her up. “I don’t care.”

“You should. You really should.” She rebandaged her palms before lifting them on my face. Then, even though she was terrified and grieving, she gave me that soul-saving, world-altering smile I would do anything and everything to keep. “But I love you, Gavin Smyth, and I’ll spend the rest of my life begging you to forgive me for trying to make you believe that I didn’t.” She kissed the corner of my mouth, then fixed her gaze on mine. “If the offer still stands, please make me your wife.”

Ceaseless hope sent warmth and light pumping through my veins. I let out a desperate cry of relief and crushed my mouth to hers in a searing kiss. Her tongue brushed against mine, while I inhaled her sweet scent. Strawberries mixed with warm sunshine.

Home.

But we couldn’t stay here. They would be searching for her. I kissed her quickly, then whispered, “I’ll get us a horse.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

ARYELLA

When you feel the fear creep in, give yourself three seconds. Allow yourself to feel it.

Then envision yourself emerging victorious over that fear. Lock it up in a place that can’t reach you and do whatever the hell you need to do to survive.

—FROM THE BUTCHER OF NYRIDA’S LAST KNOWN LETTERS TO QUEEN ARYELLA I

The morning of the second test, I woke up early with a deep ache in my back and the all-too-familiar echo of screams in my ear. It seemed that by telling Abram I needed those vials of pain relief medicine for cramps from my cycle, I’d summoned it upon myself.

During those six months in Warrich, my cycle had been erratic. Elowen’s explanation was that hers was like that, too. She said I got it from her. Only I wasn’t her daughter, and I’d gotten nothing from her at all.

That night in Freyburn, when I’d dreamt of a woman’s screams and an infant crying, I’d run out into the woods in disoriented panic. Gavin had followed me, protected me and hadn’t let me go far. But that was only the first time it had happened. The nightmare, along with the pain and screams, returned each time I bled.

The worst was a few weeks after my death in Brinnea. I was just healed enough to start training, and Damond and I had been taking it easy. The cramping had started early in the morning. I still was embarrassed every time I remembered Freyburn, losing my mind over something every woman dealt with. What a ridiculous reaction it had been, running through the woods in the winter like I was searching for something.

And yet, not long after, I had sat on the floor of my bedroom in the cabin I’d shared with Damond, falling apart again. Feeling the same sickening sensations. Hearing the same woman’s screams. Damond had begged me to come out and talk to him, but I’d refused.

“I know I’m not who you need right now,” Damond had said through the door, sounding pained and helpless. “I’m not him. But if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“Are you all right?” Mina’s hand on my shoulder abruptly brought me back to the present. We were sitting in the mess hall for breakfast.

“Just tired.” I rubbed my eyes and gave her a smile I hoped was convincing enough.

Today was the second test. I didn’t have time to bleed, cramp, or panic.

Mina saw right through me. “Marin sometimes heats a whole basket of towels and wraps them around my midriff while I lie on the bed. When it gets bad,” she added.

My shoulders dipped slightly. “How could you tell?”

“I just pay close attention. You’ve been moving slower than normal, and you’ve winced a few times. You’re a little paler than normal, too.” She shrugged. “Marin says I have a knack for helping other women.”

I watched her swallow some eggs. At least she was eating this morning.

“Do you want to be at Commencement, learning to fight, or would you rather do something else?” I asked curiously. “Like helping women?”

“Well, I…” Her mouth hung open. “I’ll do whatever you need.”

“No.” I squeezed her hand. “I’m asking you what you want.” Before she could answer, Mavic spoke from behind us. Mysteriously, he hadn’t come back to our cabin last night. “Pardon me, ladies.” He squeezed between us and dug into a mountainous plate of food without apology.