Page 69 of Grim and Oro (Lightlark)

CROWNS AND CAGES

The island is in ruins. It wasn’t just the castle that was affected during the tremors.

We’ve had burials for those lost. I’ve been in endless meetings, panic rising. But the moment I see her, my mind quiets. It’s like I’m back on that beach I haven’t visited in centuries.

She looks concerned. “Are you okay?” she asks, her eyes sweeping down my body, and why does that make me feel like I can’t breathe?

No. I’m not okay. None of us are. But I don’t tell her that. Instead, I give her a sharp answer, and that makes her frown. I tell her that we must visit Remlar, yet another ancient creature who could know where the heart is. One I had hoped we wouldn’t have to deal with.

She bites her lip in focus.

“What are you thinking?” I ask. I’d give anything to be let into that mind for even a moment.

She looks surprised. I suppose she should be—it’s not like I’ve typically asked her opinion on any of our plans. Perhaps I should. She’s smart. Capable. Her tone is steady. “What if we let them capture me? This ancient creature and his people? You said they hate Wildlings, right?”

Fuck no . That’s my immediate reaction. But what I say is: “Why would we do that?”

She shrugs. “You said it’s unlikely he’ll agree to see you. We’re short on time. We’ll force him to have an audience with you.”

“... By using yourself as bait.”

She nods.

I don’t want to admit that it’s a good plan.

Still ... I don’t like it. Isla is right.

The ancient creatures do hate Wildlings.

Remlar and his people hate me too. They think I abandoned them, after the curses.

And maybe ... maybe I did. So many groups were suffering.

We’ve tried to help everyone ... but it’s meant no one has felt completely taken care of.

“You would put yourself at risk?” I ask.

She lifts a shoulder. “It seems like we’re all at risk, if we don’t find out where the heart is.”

All at risk . She isn’t just talking about her own realm. I can see in her conviction that she cares about this island, even though it’s done nothing but fight her this entire time.

She’s brave. Foolish ... but brave.

“Fine.”

Nothing prepares me to see the Wildling captured, on her knees, with a blade pointed at her throat.

My instinct is to burn the hive and everyone except for her to ash. My heart hammers. My fists curl.

I care .

A sword is at my throat before I can make a move.

Remlar clicks his tongue. “A move, King , and we’ll see just how easily you can die like the rest of us.”

Isla looks panic-stricken. I know she isn’t just worried about the island. She’s looking at me . I stare back, as if finally seeing her.

My eyes are locked on Isla, so I’m not listening to Remlar when his sword slices across my throat.

Pain lances through me like poison.

All I hear is Isla’s gasp. Then, I see her reach for her dagger, as if that is also instinct. I watch her throw it across the air with perfect aim, just like she did that day at the demonstration. It cuts through the air, aimed right at Remlar’s heart.

She looks shocked, angry, worried , even. She’s looking at me .

She’s looking at me like perhaps she cares a little too.

I lift a hand, and the dagger stills right before meeting flesh. We can’t kill him. We need his information.

But Remlar is stubborn. He wants something in exchange. His own blade didn’t cut me deeply, but I feel blood running down my throat. I’m losing too much of it.

“I want the Wildling,” he says.

I see black.

One moment, I’m on the other side of the hive, and the next, I’m in front of Remlar, holding him by the neck, my hand coated in flames.

I’m going to kill him. I’m going to enjoy it.

I don’t know why I feel so angry, so possessive , because she does not belong to me. She does not belong to anyone but herself. But this fury is like a firestorm, burning everything in its path.

My flames dance in Remlar’s eyes as he says, “I want the Wildling to visit me . Once this is all over.”

Once this is all over . I allow a spark of hope to form, that there is light at the end of all this. That the curses can truly be broken.

Still, the idea of Isla ever coming back here fills me with rage.

Isla steps forward before I can speak another word. She agrees . Why?

I’m breathing too quickly. I’m bleeding too much. I barely hear Remlar tell us something invaluable—that the heart of Lightlark blooms only where darkness meets light.

I know what he means immediately. A place where Lightlark and remnants of Nightshade’s influence converge. There are only a few places like that left.

Close . We are so very close to the end of all this suffering.

The hive is spinning as we leave. The world is starting to slip beneath me. I can’t feel my hands, or my legs. Somehow, I stumble to the edge of the wooden structure.

“A plan,” I say to myself, wondering if the words make it out of my mouth. “We have a plan.”

I hear my name. Or maybe I’m imagining it.

There’s no way Isla is saying my name in my ear as we fly over the forest. There’s no way her voice— that voice —is filled with concern.

“ Oro .”

It happens again. Am I dreaming? I can hardly see. I can hardly get a full breath. My head feels strange.

I glance at her to see if this could possibly be real, and there she is. Just inches from my face. Her green eyes are wide.

I want to fall into them, I want to fall into this moment, I want to fall into a world where we could possibly work together, I want to fall for her completely.

We hit the trees, and the dream takes over.

Green eyes, crinkling at the edges as Isla smiles. She’s lying on the golden sand. Drops of water slide down her heated skin. I run my mouth along her shoulder, and she makes a sound I’ve never heard before. I want to make it happen again.

She’s wearing a dress with barely any fabric, and it’s wet , and it feels wrong to look, to study her this closely, but then she takes my hands and guides them down her body.

“ Oro ,” she says.

Isla.

“ Oro ,” she gasps, as my lips trail down her neck.

Isla .

“ Oro ,” she pants into my ear.

Isla .

“ORO.”

I blink my eyes open, and Isla isn’t underneath me anymore. She’s on the other side of a dark cave.

I swallow, wincing as the pain of the last few hours crashes into me. Remlar cutting my throat. Isla and I flying.

Falling .

I tense and look over at her again. Is she hurt?

No. The blood I smell is only mine.

I try to put the pieces together, as I reach up to touch my throat. The skin is healed.

I vaguely remember the cold of a stream ... How did we get there? Did she ... did she drag me?

Did she drag us here ?

My eyes shift quickly to the mouth of the cave, where sunlight spills in, just feet away. Daytime .

It’s been hours. The sun would have killed me. Yet here I am, in this cave. Facing a woman who might still be my enemy.

“You saved me,” I say, frowning.

She gives me a biting look. “I’m not as weak as you think I am.”

Does she think I’m shocked that she could save me? No. I’m not. I’m shocked that she did it with such care. “I never thought you were weak,” I say, sweetness filling my mouth.

She looks surprised to hear that. I suppose I haven’t always been the most complimentary when it comes to her. Or anyone.

But I could be. I could be many things, if she would let me.

“Well, now we’re even, I suppose,” I say, remembering that day on the balcony, when I leaped into the water after her. When all I knew about Isla Crown was her voice, stuck in my head like a curse.

“I suppose we are,” she replies.

We just sit, and stare at each other. I’m stuck here until the sun sets. But she isn’t. “You should go,” I say, wanting the opposite. I don’t want to keep her here. I don’t want to be more of a burden on her than I already have been. I expect her to go.

Instead, she says something that shocks me into silence: “I’ll wait with you.” To pass the time, she proposes a game.

I hate any game that isn’t fireball. “A game,” I say, flatly.

She isn’t deterred by my attitude. And why can’t I be fucking pleasant for a moment? Why do I have to be mean, like I’m hoping to scare her off, like I’m afraid of caring more than I already do?

“Questions, back and forth. I’ll answer one. And then you will. Honestly.” I want to laugh at that word. Honestly . As if Isla Crown has been completely honest with me even a day, since we’ve been working together.

So that’s it. That’s the ulterior motive. The reason she has decided to stay. She wants information. She knows I am quite literally a captive audience here. I frown, remembering Grim saying something similar, centuries before ...

I bury the thought of him.

Fine. Let’s see what she’s so interested in. Let’s see if Isla Crown is capable of being honest .

“Fine, Wildling. You start.”

She sits up, excited, and I wait, wondering what she’ll ask me. Wondering if agreeing to this was a mistake.

Her first question is ridiculous. “Be honest—do you ever tire of wearing gold?”

I give her a look. “Yes, Wildling. Though I can wear blue, white, or silver if I choose.” I did for years, during training.

“Your turn.”

I want to ask her so many questions, we would spend days locked in this cave. Some are strategic. Others ... I shouldn’t be so interested in.

She started small. Easy. So do I. “What is your life like, back in the Wildling newland?”

She blinks, surprised. She seems shocked that I would care about her life outside of the Centennial.

I’m shocked that I care about her life outside the Centennial.

“It’s ...” At the last moment, she closes her mouth. Has she decided to change her words? Give me yet another lie? She shifts on the ground. I see her narrow her eyes, as though she’s deciding something. Then she says, “It’s awful.”