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She plays with the necklace on my chest and the sight fully knocks me back to my senses.

I am the Dragunheart.

I sit up. “I’m a leader in this Order. I have to get hold of myself, which starts with being honest.”

The sparkle in her eyes dies, and I burn with shame.

“Quell. I don’t hate you. I never have, not even when I found out your secret. I don’t think I could ever hate you. But in the morning, I still have a duty that I cannot escape. I thought I could do this, but I lied to myself. I can’t.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying Yagrin is going to accompany you the rest of the way. I’ll travel alone and meet you there.”

“No.”

“Quell.”

“Jordan!” She sits up.

“What do you expect to come of this? Look at what we did to my brothers tonight.”

“So you regret it?”

“Part of me does, yes! I don’t know if that will ever go away. But it’s no matter now. I have to live with it. And look at what we were about to do here, now. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have.”

“You just want to kill me.” Her nose crinkles, and I can feel her hurt radiating in my chest.

“I’ve never wanted to do that!” I stand and pace, unable to look at her anymore when she’s staring at me like that. “We don’t work.”

“Oh, get over yourself,” she says. The soft parts of her are gone. And the fire I’ve known since we started this journey is back in full force. “All I’m asking is for you to stay through the next leg of this trip. Please.” She fluffs her pillow, settling down to go to bed. “You know, I hated you for what you did to me at Chateau Soleil. But it did set me free. A multitude of truths can exist. The justice that you, the Dragunheart, and I, a Darkbearer, served tonight made the Order safer. And made Beaulah weaker. You want to stop lying to yourself? Start with that.”

She tugs the lamp cord and I can’t see the hurt in her eyes anymore. It should make me feel better, but instead it keeps me up all night.

Fifty-One

Quell

I lie there waiting for Jordan to fall asleep. The plan was to rest and prepare for tomorrow. But then he looked at me with those green eyes, and it set me on fire, taking me back to feelings I was sure I had buried. Then we kissed and it reminded me what it felt like to truly be alive. It felt good to not care who I was, for once, and take what I want. I hate him for running. But I love him for all he sees in me.

Frustration tangles in my chest. How, after everything, can he still choose to be a coward? I toss and turn, trying to think of something, anything other than Jordan Wexton, but the last few hours won’t let me go. I slip out of bed and pad to the window as quietly as I can. But the minute I open the balcony door, he props up on his elbows in bed.

“Quell, I didn’t mean to upset you. Are you okay?”

If he asks me that one more time, I’m going to scream. I ignore him, stepping outside, letting the breeze from the ocean whip through my hair, imagining I could take flight on the wind. And disappear from here. Go to wherever my mother is. My heart pangs and I immediately regret allowing myself the space to think of her. But grief doesn’t seem to follow any of my rules; it refuses to stay in the box I put it in. I sit on the balcony’s railing.

“Quell, please come back to bed. You really do need rest.” He stands in the doorway; his body glistens in the moonlight. A scar across his ribs disappearing behind him is his only glaring imperfection. But it helps to make him human.

“Well, thanks to you, I can’t sleep.” I storm past him, back inside, and sit up in the bed. “Did you ever tell me how you got that scar?”

He looks down. His fingers trace it.

“When they buried me during one of my Trials, the fool shoved the spade too deep in the ground and it caught me in the ribs.”

I wince. The things he’s survived…it’s miraculous he’s not a complete monster.

“My aunt called the scar a badge of honor.”

For the first time in a long time, when I look at Jordan, I don’t see the veil he holds so firmly in place. He sits in the chair by the fire. “I can sleep here if that makes it easier for you to rest.”