Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
And then the glass slides up again.
“Stay safe,” I say to Rowen as he settles my luggage on the ground. I can’t help the crack in my voice or the feeling that I’m walking into an empty grave, one my father dug for me. “This is where we part ways. Stay alive. Don’t text.”
I hate being cruel to him, but it’s easier to cut ties now before I get in too deep. I know myself. I’ll want to pull him down into the depths with me, and in a moment of weakness—a cardinal sin in this family—I’ll ask him to save me.
And Rowen will. He always will. And then he’ll pay the price for it, the same way he did last time. When everything was taken from him.
Rowen scratches the scars that run the length of his right arm, and though he doesn’t respond, I can see what his silence is costing him in the grimace tightening his jaw. I focus on those scars. Though I can’t possibly fathom what he’s been through, I understand enough to know he gave his all and had the most precious thing that made him him stripped away.
That’s as much as he’s been willing to share. To this day, I have no idea what he lost. I just know the guilt he feels over it must be massive for him to work for my father without killing him in his sleep.
My stomach drops as Rowen pales, realizing what he’s been doing. His blond hair shifts in the breeze, and his eyes meet mine. He’s effortlessly beautiful and the perfect example of what actual sacrifice looks like. He’s given himself to our family for life, and he still won’t tell me what my father did to earn such loyalty.
Tears burn my eyes.
He’s always been my anchor. And now…I need to force him to live a life where we can’t rely on each other any longer.
His eyes focus on the blue bag, full of my father’s secrets. I know what he’s thinking. Run. Run away. But that’s not an option. My father, his…people, they’re relentless. Ruthless.
And then there’s my stepmother.
I’m afraid my father’s going to ask us what’s taking so long, so I quickly grab my bags from the sidewalk and the handle to my trunk. I nod toward Rowen. It’s the best I can do. “It’s been great.”
It’s been sad.
It’s been the seventh circle of hell, actually, and now I’m walking into another circle without him by my side.
His eyes are so big, it feels like they’re going to swallow me whole. “You’ll be back. Right?”
For the first time since my father pulled me aside a few weeks ago, I want to cry. I’d felt almost happy, getting ready to attend Seattle University as a psych major. I’d allowed myself to feel excitement for the first time, over new beginnings, over possibly being truly free. From him, from the intense studies, the martial arts, the endless training—and then he’d forced me to accept a sudden offer to attend Endir instead.
I was heartbroken.
At first, I’d assumed the last two years of training and torture, beatings when I failed, a meal when I didn’t, were all designed to punish me for being rejected by an Erikson. My humiliation needed penance. I’d assumed even the curse of my Aethercall was given so my father would never feel the bruise of anyone rejecting me again. How wrong I had been on all counts.
But these are pointless thoughts now. I am here, and I have a job to do.
So I conjure up a semi-chipper tone and offer Rowen a half smile. “Of course. I could never leave my best friend.”
Rowen doesn’t smile back. “See you on the other side, then?”
I’m not a fool. Neither is he.
He knows the risks and has the scars to prove what happens when things don’t go to plan.
I choke out my next words. “The other side. I’ve heard it’s not so bad.” Death might actually be the only escape for both of us.
He swallows, then his smile is so big, so convincing. “They probably, at the very least, have heart-attack-level greasy fries.”
Gods, what I would’ve given to have sat next to him during the drive here, listening to his dry jokes and getting all of my fears off my chest. Honestly, just sitting next to him would have made me feel better.
“I love fries,” I finally say.
“I’ll make sure they’re extra crispy when I see you again.”
I smooth an invisible wrinkle from my cashmere sweater, desperate to stretch this moment until it breaks. The only words left are “good luck” and “don’t die,” but luck’s never been mine, and an early death is the likeliest ending for us both.
“You’ll be bored without me,” I finally say.
Rowen lifts his hand but then drops it, fingers balling into a fist at his side like he wants to cup my face but knows he shouldn’t. “You know I will, because I’m impatient.”