Page 26 of Between These Broken Hearts (Cursed Stars #2)

“You’re staring,” I say without turning around. Maybe it’s that I almost died or that I nearly killed my sister. Maybe it’s

the date of my eighteenth birthday looming so close, or maybe it’s that I’m finally free of the ring but still feel trapped

by my own choices. Whatever the reason, my emotions are humming at the surface, and I don’t know what I’ll feel if I hold

his gaze for too long.

“When we found you...” His soft steps scrape across the floor, and in the window I can faintly make out his reflection

as he stands behind me. He cups my shoulders and slides his warm hands down my arms. “Do you realize how lethal the Cerberus’s

poison is? How close you were to death?”

So close I could hear her call my name. “Do you realize how close I am now?”

“Don’t say that. You’re here. You’re better.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m already dying. And I don’t just mean the ring.” I stare out at the night sky and try to find the

words, but I can’t. “It was like that before the ring too. Like the world was too loud, so I did everything I could to drown

out the noise, and then... after a while, it was all muffled, even when I didn’t want it to be. It’s like what happened

with my sister—I kept her at arm’s length because I was too broken for her to be any closer, but then I was so lonely it hurt

because she was never close enough.”

“There have been moments, though.” He rubs circles on my back with one big hand. “Moments when you felt alive, even after

Mordeus?”

I close my eyes. Remembering those moments. Most of them involve Kendrick. His smile. His hands. His mouth. “Yes.”

He turns me around and pulls me into his arms. “Then it’s not over. You’re still here. And we’re going to keep it that way.”

I nod against his chest. Maybe because I don’t want to hurt him any more than I already have. Maybe because I want to believe

it. “You rescued me?” It comes out as a question because the memory is so foggy.

“We came for you as soon as we knew where to find you.”

“Do you remember?”

“The ring’s magic is strange. The memories are there, but you’re not. Abriella and I took turns keeping record of everything.

We didn’t want to risk losing you.”

“There were parts... I don’t know if I was dreaming up things about you.” I look up at him and take in his pointed fae

ears. The tattooed crown he’s shown me only once is glamoured away and there’s no sign of the wings I think I remember pulling

us from the rubble.

He cocks a brow and I get a flash of dimples. “Do you have a question?”

“Were the wings a hallucination or real?”

“They’re real enough when I want them to be.”

I step out of his arms. “You hid those from me too.” I don’t mean for it to sound like an accusation, but it does.

His face falls. “They’re a gift I have to conjure. I don’t like revealing them unless I truly need to. They’re just another

part of being fae, not another secret.” He lifts a hand, and just when I think he might pull me back into him, he drops it

and leans against the wall. “I promise things won’t be the same as they were. I won’t hide from you. Not anymore.”

I study him for a long time, but I already know I believe him. I trust him. Maybe that makes me a fool or maybe it means I was a fool to ever leave.

“It must be a relief to have the ring off,” he says. “How did you navigate the sickness all these months?”

“The wolpertinger’s blood acts as an antidote to the sickness caused by the ring.” I risk a glance up at him, though I’m sure

the guilt shows on my face. “I had to hunt it and... it was horrible.”

Understanding dawns on his face. “We’ve all had to do horrible things to survive.”

“I couldn’t go after the sword while feeling that weak.”

“You really found the sword?” he asks, and I nod. “You said so when we found you, but I didn’t know if that was the fever

talking. Where was it? Where is it now?”

I fill my lungs, searching for courage. “It was just hidden behind that three-headed monster less than a mile from here, and

when I found it I told it to take me to Mordeus.”

“You used it?” His face lights up, and my stomach sinks. I trust him and he saved me, and now I have to let him down. They

need the Sword of Fire to get to Erith—possibly even to defeat him—and I lost it. I may have cost him his kingdom.

“Did you know the Sword of Fire is literally made of fire? I burned my hand on it when—” I lift my hand but it isn’t wrapped

anymore, and when I examine my skin, I see no sign of the burns. “They healed my burns?”

Kendrick shakes his head. “You didn’t have any burns. Your hand was wrapped when we found you. We removed the dressing when

we were cleaning your other wounds but there was nothing there.”

“It was burned. It was raw and blistered and...” I stare at it, as if the injury I remember might reappear if I look long enough.

“Did you go to a healer?” Kendrick asks. “Or perhaps it healed while you slept.”

“I’m human. I don’t heal like the fae. And if I somehow found a healer, why wouldn’t I have had them heal my leg?”

“Jas.” He steps forward and takes my hand in both of his, rubbing his thumbs along the sides of my palm and onto my wrist,

where he traces a circle. “Didn’t you have a scar here?”

“I...” I blink at the smooth skin. With your blood you can overcome the flame. “I did.”

“The sword healed you.”

“Kendrick, it didn’t. I’m telling you, that sword nearly killed me. I would never have touched it a second time if I hadn’t

been sure I’d meet my end in Erith’s presence.”

“What do you mean it nearly killed you?”

“It burned off my skin. I saw it with my own eyes. I felt it.”

He closes his eyes. “There’s so much about our history that even we don’t know.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’ve been searching for the sword for years with no idea I’d be unable to wield it.”

“Not without burning yourself at least,” I say, but I don’t understand that look on his face, like he’s puzzling something

out.

Suddenly, he strides for the door and flings it open. Brie is standing on the other side, pale and staring at us both. “It’s

time to tell her,” Kendrick says.