Page 94
Story: The Blood Traitor
But then Zofia opened the box, and ice instantly flooded Kiva’s veins.
Because inside was a small vial of angeldust.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“No,” Kiva gasped, jumping to her feet and backing away. “No.”
Zofia spread her hands in apology. “This is your second fear. The choice is yours as to which you will face.”
“I can’t,” Kiva said, still gasping. “I—can’t—”
The Mystican only sat there, waiting patiently for Kiva’s decision.
“There has to be something else,” she begged, her eyes glued to the golden powder. “Please. I’ll do anything. Anything but —” She couldn’t finish, her terror overwhelming. She sought for calm, but it eluded her. All she could think about was the two impossible choices she’d been given.
You made me fall in love with a lie.
Gods,gods,Kiva couldn’t do it. She couldn’t put him through that. Couldn’t putherselfthrough that. Kissing Jaren would rip open a wound she hadn’t evenbegunto heal from. And not just her — it would also hurt him. She knew it. And —gods dammit— that thought alone brought her more pain. They both needed time to accept what was no longer between them, time tomove on.Her kissing him would only make that harder.
But the angeldust...
Kiva trembled as she stared at the vial sitting innocently on the velvet. It was a small amount, not enough that she would have to go through a full withdrawal again, but given how addicted she’d been only two and a half months earlier, the effects would hit her hard and fast, and leave her feeling dreadful for hours afterward.
It was only one night, though. It would be awful, and then it would pass. But if she kissed Jaren...
Better for her to suffer alone than to damage them both beyond repair.Furtherrepair.
“Think carefully, Kiva,” Zofia warned, seeing her decision solidify. “One of these choices is easy, the other hard. But both lead to the same result.”
Kiva was warring too much within herself to comprehend Zofia’s meaning, knowing only thatneitherof the choices were easy, andbothwould have devastating consequences. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “How can this be worth more than gold?”
The Mystican’s beautiful features softened. “I know you’ll find this difficult to believe, but I’m trying to help you. One day, you’ll be grateful.”
Tears burned the back of Kiva’s eyes, a potent mix of frustration and anger and fear. She knew better than to tell Zofia how wrong she was, that nothing good could come of this choice. Instead, she sank back onto the cushion, plucking the vial from the velvet and weighing it in her hands.
The gold powder stirred within the glass when she unstoppered the lid, the familiar caramel scent making her feel a sickly combination of dread and longing. It was the longing that scared her the most, nearly making her seal the vial again. But then Jaren’s hard, unfeeling eyes came to her, and she knew, down to her soul — hertorturedsoul — that she couldn’t kiss him. He would hate every second, and she...
She would not.
And when they were done, nothing would have changed, except that she’d have another memory of his lips on hers, the taste of him in her mouth, the touch of him on her skin.
She wouldn’t be able to bear it.
The angeldust at least would be out of her system by morning. A momentary inconvenience, she told herself, nothing more.
She knew it was a lie, that she was ignoring the lasting damage it could cause her, the nightmares it would reawaken. The darkness hadn’t managed to claim her last time — but it was still waiting, ready to finish its work.
Even so, she had to make a choice.
And there was only one that she could live with.
Before she could change her mind, Kiva raised the vial to her lips and threw back the contents.
The gold dust coated her throat as she swallowed, dissolving into a caramelly syrup. It took only seconds before she began to feel the effects, her tremors easing, a lightness overtaking her. For the first time in weeks, all her cares seemed insignificant.
Zofia sighed. “You made the hard choice, just so you know. It would have been much easier for you to kiss him.”
Kiva just shook her head at the Mystican’s now-blurry figure, dropping the empty vial onto the table.
Because inside was a small vial of angeldust.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“No,” Kiva gasped, jumping to her feet and backing away. “No.”
Zofia spread her hands in apology. “This is your second fear. The choice is yours as to which you will face.”
“I can’t,” Kiva said, still gasping. “I—can’t—”
The Mystican only sat there, waiting patiently for Kiva’s decision.
“There has to be something else,” she begged, her eyes glued to the golden powder. “Please. I’ll do anything. Anything but —” She couldn’t finish, her terror overwhelming. She sought for calm, but it eluded her. All she could think about was the two impossible choices she’d been given.
You made me fall in love with a lie.
Gods,gods,Kiva couldn’t do it. She couldn’t put him through that. Couldn’t putherselfthrough that. Kissing Jaren would rip open a wound she hadn’t evenbegunto heal from. And not just her — it would also hurt him. She knew it. And —gods dammit— that thought alone brought her more pain. They both needed time to accept what was no longer between them, time tomove on.Her kissing him would only make that harder.
But the angeldust...
Kiva trembled as she stared at the vial sitting innocently on the velvet. It was a small amount, not enough that she would have to go through a full withdrawal again, but given how addicted she’d been only two and a half months earlier, the effects would hit her hard and fast, and leave her feeling dreadful for hours afterward.
It was only one night, though. It would be awful, and then it would pass. But if she kissed Jaren...
Better for her to suffer alone than to damage them both beyond repair.Furtherrepair.
“Think carefully, Kiva,” Zofia warned, seeing her decision solidify. “One of these choices is easy, the other hard. But both lead to the same result.”
Kiva was warring too much within herself to comprehend Zofia’s meaning, knowing only thatneitherof the choices were easy, andbothwould have devastating consequences. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “How can this be worth more than gold?”
The Mystican’s beautiful features softened. “I know you’ll find this difficult to believe, but I’m trying to help you. One day, you’ll be grateful.”
Tears burned the back of Kiva’s eyes, a potent mix of frustration and anger and fear. She knew better than to tell Zofia how wrong she was, that nothing good could come of this choice. Instead, she sank back onto the cushion, plucking the vial from the velvet and weighing it in her hands.
The gold powder stirred within the glass when she unstoppered the lid, the familiar caramel scent making her feel a sickly combination of dread and longing. It was the longing that scared her the most, nearly making her seal the vial again. But then Jaren’s hard, unfeeling eyes came to her, and she knew, down to her soul — hertorturedsoul — that she couldn’t kiss him. He would hate every second, and she...
She would not.
And when they were done, nothing would have changed, except that she’d have another memory of his lips on hers, the taste of him in her mouth, the touch of him on her skin.
She wouldn’t be able to bear it.
The angeldust at least would be out of her system by morning. A momentary inconvenience, she told herself, nothing more.
She knew it was a lie, that she was ignoring the lasting damage it could cause her, the nightmares it would reawaken. The darkness hadn’t managed to claim her last time — but it was still waiting, ready to finish its work.
Even so, she had to make a choice.
And there was only one that she could live with.
Before she could change her mind, Kiva raised the vial to her lips and threw back the contents.
The gold dust coated her throat as she swallowed, dissolving into a caramelly syrup. It took only seconds before she began to feel the effects, her tremors easing, a lightness overtaking her. For the first time in weeks, all her cares seemed insignificant.
Zofia sighed. “You made the hard choice, just so you know. It would have been much easier for you to kiss him.”
Kiva just shook her head at the Mystican’s now-blurry figure, dropping the empty vial onto the table.
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