Page 183 of War Queen
“Like a bolt of lightning.”
“The limits of the blood are weakening. He’s growing more powerful.”
“How did he know what we were doing?” Soren asked.
“If his pain hurts her, then her pain hurts him as well.” Sana shook her head. “But I can’t go back in. There’s nothing else we can do.”
Norah only stood, half listening. Never had she felt so betrayed, so violated.
Soren’s eyes met hers. “Salara,” he said softly. He stepped forward and reached for her.
“Don’t touch me,” she seethed.
She stumbled down the hall the way she had come. She needed to get out of this cursed Wild, and away from those who had almost stolen that which she held most dear.
They rode in silence, Norah on Sephir and Soren on his destrier beside her. Her anger had left her. All she felt now was hurt. She’d trusted Soren. She’d trusted him not to hurt her, and this was the worst kind of hurt—the hurt of betrayal. Of course, he thought he was protecting her, and protecting Mikael, and he didn’t know what it was like to lose himself. Regardless, it would stay with her. For a long time.
Pain ripped across her left hand, and she sucked in the cold air through her teeth as she doubled over, clutching her palms together tightly. The other cut would soon follow… and it did.
Soren reined his horse closer. “Salara!”
“I’m fine,” she panted. “It’ll pass.”
She’d come to appreciate that she didn’t know when she’d be cut. At first, she thought it was a curse, and it stole her spirit, but then she’d come to believe it would have been worse to know when it was coming and wait each time for it. And to know the healing would come shortly, somehow that soothed her.
Norah stopped and slid off Sephir. She waited for the healing.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She only nodded with her eyes closed. The sharp pain dulled to an ache, then disappeared altogether, and her palms became smooth again, as if nothing had ever happened. Finally. She straightened.
He offered her the waterskin for a drink, but she didn’t take it. She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t.
He sighed. “What would you do if someone you loved was choosing to hurt themselves?”
She didn’t respond to him.
“Look what this does to you! And Lucien has to die. You’re choosing to die with him.”
“It’s my choice!” she cried. “You would have taken everything from me!”
“Your life is everything!”
“I’ll die before I lose myself again.”
“Then you’ll let Salar die too. He won’t raise a sword to Lucien if he thinks it will harm you. He won’t even fight. And Lucien will kill him, as the seer has shown us.”
She knew the vision. She’d seen it a thousand times over in her mind, lived it a thousand times, mourned it a thousand times. Lucien would kill Mikael. And Mikael would let him. Because of her.
“He doesn’t even lift his sword,” Soren said, his voice cracking.
“But you will,” she told him.
His head jerked up, and she met his tormented eyes. He shook his head.
“You’ll kill him, Soren. The opportunity will come, and you’ll take it.” It was so quiet she could almost hear their hearts beating.
“No,” he said softly. “I won’t. I can’t.”
