Page 116 of The Incendiary

“Ella? Please answer me!”

My hands shook so violently, I could barely make out the words on the note, even in her perfect handwriting. It took me five tries before what I read made any sense.

It was Simeon. Do not follow me.

“No!” I shouted, the air kicked clean out of my lungs. I swiped her ring off the table and burst through the door onto the beach. “No, no, no, no! Ella!” I searched for foot- or hoofprints in every direction, but the sand was clear aside from my own tracks. It looked like she’d never even been here.

Like I had imagined us.

Do not follow me.

“No!” I slammed my fist into the side of my head, trying to erase the words from my vision. “No, no, no!” It didn’t hurt enough. I needed it to hurt more than the splitting ache in my chest. I needed to clear the sharp fucking ringing in my head. I couldn’t decide which direction to go first.

Do not follow me.

“Fuck!” I roared, gripping my hair, nearly ripping it out of my own skin. I spun in every direction, desperate for a single sign. A horse in the distance. A small body. An army, even, I’d be happy to see. I’d run straight into a horde of weaponed soldiers if it meant having her in my arms again.

It was no use. She was nowhere. If he had her in his grasp, I was helpless against him. He had magic. I had a blacksmith’s hammer and a few coins.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked. “I’m so sorry. I should have protected you. I didn’t protect you.”

I should never have left her alone. Not for a single second.

Do not follow me.

I squeezed my burning eyes shut and wondered if I had imagined it all. Was I deranged like my father? Had she ever touched me, kissed me, held me, loved me?

Had she ever really chosen me, or had it all been a dream?

Do not follow me.

“Gods,” I wept, falling to my knees in the sand. “Please don’t take her from me.”

Those four words were burned in my brain, though written in her handwriting, weren’t hers. I knew she didn’t mean them. This wasn’t her choice, and if it was, she had a damn good reason.

I knew my girl. My wife. This wasn’t right. Nothing about this was right.

Gavin, she’d told me. I love you. Her last words to me were louder than a note. And they had been real.

I violently shook my head. My chest heaved. Tears streamed off my cheeks and splashed onto my shaking hands and knees. I refused to accept this reality and released an ear-splitting roar from the depths of my soul. Darkness danced in my vision. I wanted to set it free, use it to find her and destroy everyone in my path.

Instead, it ate me alive inside until hatred unlike anything I had ever known burrowed itself into my heart.

“Do not follow me,” I repeated, the words vile and wrong on my tongue. Rage brought me to my feet. My heart—that only beat for her—raced in my ears. “Fuck that,” I grunted, sprinting north, toward the castle. I would start there, and I wouldn’t stop until I found her.

“I will follow you,” I hissed through tears, tightening my fist around her ring as I ran. “And I will find you.”

THIRTY-TWO

ARYELLA

Breathing the same air as you is a privilege. Touching you, kissing you… that’s as divine a blessing as the gods can give.

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

The morning after the second test, Mavic shook me awake, looking ready to punch someone, while Mina had tears in her eyes. I must have been shouting, crying, or thrashing in my sleep. I sat up and steadied myself, bare feet on the ground.

“Oh, gods!” Mina pointed at my neck. “What is that?”