Page 54 of Between These Broken Hearts (Cursed Stars #2)

“Turn your attention inward,” Pretha says, focusing so intently on me I wish I’d never gotten out of bed this morning.

It was late when Kendrick escorted me to my chambers, and when he tried to say good night and leave for his own, I pulled

him inside.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked as I pulled his tunic off. And I understood why. When we found out Crissa was alive,

I’d pushed him away again, too afraid my own existence would ruin everything for him. But last night, with my birthday looming

so close and the ring of the Banshee’s cry still echoing in my ears, I didn’t have it in me to be selfless, didn’t have it

in me to sacrifice the little time I have left with him in favor of some noble act that may never matter anyway.

So he stayed, and we said everything that needed saying with our hands and mouths and bodies. It was beautiful and sad and

comforting and painful. It was everything it needed to be.

When I woke up in his arms this morning, I should’ve stayed there. Should’ve ignored the knock on my door and insisted we

ignore the world.

One more day.

That’s all I have. I don’t want to spend it here, failing tremendously as Pretha tries to get me to tap into my power, to

find this supposed “inner fire” I need to activate my phoenix.

“Just focus on that kernel of flame deep inside of you and draw it out to your fingertips,” she says.

I stare at my fingertips, search for a flame that isn’t there, and will fire to flare from my skin nevertheless. Nothing happens.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Brie says, stopping her incessant pacing behind me. She’s trying not to smother me, but she’s definitely hovering.

“We’ll keep trying.”

I want to ask why . We haven’t found a way around the bargain, so my ability to wield my phoenix is irrelevant. When I close my eyes and turn

my attention inward this time, I’m not searching for flame but for patience .

“Jas!”

I look up to see myself running into the room. Not me, Felicity . Does her gift give her my abilities when she’s in my skin? Maybe she could tell me where to find this kernel of flame that

supposedly burns inside me.

“The deal you struck with the witch,” she says, breathing hard like she ran here. “I think you misremembered the wording.”

All eyes in the room turn to her. My sister rushes to her side, and my heart sinks. Don’t give her false hope.

“You dreamed of that day,” Brie says. “The day she made the deal.”

Felicity turns to me. “The witch said you would ‘forfeit your immortal years by surrendering this life of yours on the eighteenth anniversary of your birth.’ That is what you agreed to.”

I bow my head, shame burning hot in my cheeks. “Sounds about right.”

Pretha drags in a shocked breath, and I’m not sure why because they already knew this.

Brie looks back and forth between me and the me-who-isn’t-me.

I release a ragged breath. Why does it matter? “I guess I don’t remember the exact words.”

“Eighteenth anniversary of her birth...” Pretha presses her fingers to her lips. “You think that if she ends her life before

her birthday, by the terms of the deal, he can’t take over.”

“That’s not an option,” Kendrick says at the same time as my sister says, “I’m not letting her give up until we know without

a doubt—”

“I don’t want her to kill herself,” Felicity shouts. “Not in that way, at least.”

My sister’s nostrils flare. I’m not the only one lacking patience today. “Explain.”

“I thought they wanted her in stasis until her birthday because they didn’t want her to end her life, and I was right, but

there’s more than one way she can end her life and, by doing so, invalidate her deal with Erith. She’s a phoenix,” Felicity

says. “When she burns to ash and rises again, her life begins anew . She can end this life before she would have to surrender it to Mordeus. And when she rises again, he’ll have no claim on that new life.”

The room goes hushed but can’t compare with the complete silence inside me. This is the way out.

“She has to harness her power before the moment she turns eighteen,” Pretha says, “and she has to wield it—burning to ash and rising again before the bargain’s terms can be recognized.”

Kendrick’s throat bobs. “But you said that very few people survive the transformation of the phoenix.” His gaze bounces around

the group, looking for someone to reassure him. “How do we know Jas can survive it?”

Pretha’s quiet for a long time. “We don’t.”

“But there’s another way,” he says. “There has to be another way.”

Abriella’s face is pale but even she shakes her head. “If there is, we haven’t found it yet.”

“Even this isn’t a guarantee, thanks to the blood magic,” Pretha reminds him. “Until this life of hers ends, Mordeus is connected to her. When the agony of the fire begins, he will do everything he can to be the

one who can hang on the longest.”

Panic marks Kendrick’s face when he turns back to me. “I need you,” he says, voice as soft as a whisper. “I need you to beat

this thing.”

I want to promise him I will. I want to give him all the reassurance he needs. But if I can’t even bring a single flame to

my fingertips, how am I supposed to burn myself to ash? “I won’t stop trying until my last breath.”

A shadow passes over the room and the mood shifts with it. Gray storm clouds have blocked the afternoon sun, and it’s given

a weight to the very air in the room. In the distance, thunder rolls.

“They’re coming,” I say, eyes fixed on those dark clouds.

“My generals haven’t said anything.” Brie rushes to the windows and looks right to left. “Do you see them?”

“This was in what the oracle showed you?” Kendrick asks.

“The storm. They take the palace during the storm. By nightfall they...” I push out of my chair and go to my sister, taking

her by the shoulders and turning her to me. “You need to leave. Get out of here. They are coming for you first. I saw them

string you up at the gates.”

The ferocity in my sister’s face softens. “I won’t leave the palace. I can’t.”

“Please,” I whisper. “Please go. For me.”

“I won’t leave that throne unattended for Mordeus to steal. I will stand and defend my court.”

Someone clears his throat and we all turn our attention to see my sister’s horned advisor stepping into the sitting room,

his red eyes burning bright as ever. “My queen, the general has arrived.”