Page 71 of Grim and Oro (Lightlark)

IGNITE

She lets me hold her.

We fly to Moon Isle, to visit the oracles in search for the heart, and she buries her face in my chest. She digs her nails into my shoulders. She teaches me how to hold her . How to cradle her body against my chest. How to make it comfortable for her.

Can she feel my heart racing? Does she have any clue I’m barely breathing?

What would she do if she knew I think about her in bed, when I’m supposed to be sleeping? What would she do if she knew I lose sleep remembering everything she’s ever said to me?

I’ve lost my mind, and I can’t find the will to care.

We walk through the snow, and this time, when she shivers, I wordlessly hand her my cape. I’ve never given my cape to anyone before, but it was instinct to keep her warm. To give her anything, in the hopes she might actually take it.

She does.

And then, the oracles tell us the most important breakthrough yet.

The heart is on Moon Isle. It’s here .

Relief battles with dread, knowing that the moment we find the heart, she won’t have any reason to spend more time with me.

And that’s not the point at all, is it? But as I sit in bed later that night, it’s all I can think about.

I stare at the cape she borrowed from across the room. She held it tightly. Treasured it. I never thought I would be jealous of a piece of fabric.

Ten minutes tick by, excruciatingly slowly. I find myself slipping out of bed. Clutching the cape in my hands. Bringing it to my face.

It smells like her .

I want the entire room to smell like her.

I want her to smell like me .

It’s such a primal thought, I drop the cape and back away. This heat, this longing ... it’s intoxicating. Poisonous. These thoughts—these wants. They’re dangerous . They’re not me. I’ve never been like this; I’ve never wanted anything or anyone like I want her.

The heart. I need to redirect my focus to it. The heart is on Moon Isle. There are only a few places left to look. We are closer than ever to finally breaking these curses.

Sleep isn’t going to find me again. I get dressed and pace the castle, as if I can fix all its problems. I end up in one of the only rooms in the keep where the windows haven’t been painted over.

Everything makes me think of her, even the moonlight. I think about how it hits her eyes, making them sparkle. I think back through everything she’s said—every truth and lie.

I run every interaction, every detail through my head, my hand splayed against the glass to steady myself. I—

A sob sounds behind me.

I know who it is immediately. I whirl around—

Isla. The woman I can’t stop thinking about. The Wildling that has been hiding something from me this entire time ... she’s here, and she’s crying. Suddenly, I don’t care that she’s a liar.

“What happened?” I demand. I try to think what possibly could have occurred in the time since I last saw her. “I just saw you a couple of hours ago.” Who did this to her? Who made her upset?

She doesn’t answer me. All she says is, “Does your offer still stand?”

My offer . It feels like a lifetime ago that I made it, in that cave, even though it was just days ago.

I nod. In that cave, all I wanted to know was her secret. But now, for some inexplicable reason I care more about making these tears stop.

“Can I trust you?” she asks, her voice breaking.

“Yes. I’ve never lied to you, Isla. Not once.” It’s true. I feel the sweetness in my mouth. She can trust me . Even if I can’t trust her.

Another tear slips down, and before I can ask myself what the hell I’m doing, I’m striding toward her. I’m placing my hand against her forehead, to see if she has a fever.

Is she sick? Can I fix this?

She closes her eyes, and it looks like it hurts. Whatever happened, it looks like she’s in pain, and I wish there was a way I could take it from her.

Her lips tremble.

Her secret .

I try to remember why I care so much about her secret .

I study her face, and I almost tell her to keep it, seeing the pain she’s in. I almost tell her I’ll give her whatever she wants, as long as she stops crying. As long as it would fix this.

“I was born powerless.”

Everything stops.

Faint ringing, far away, like being hit by the hilt of a sword right in the head. A tightness in my chest, like being kicked in the center of it.

No . It can’t be true.

But it is. I can taste how true it is . Truth, with a hint of that falseness I can’t decipher. I need to be clearer. Ask a specific question.

“Are you saying you have never used power?” I ask, my voice harsh, demanding. I feel like my own mind is unraveling. Like I might be a moment away from going mad. Because if she hasn’t, then her voice in my head, the incessant thoughts about her, all of it—all of it is not a lie. It’s real.

“Yes,” she says.

Truth .

I almost begin to miss her lies.

Because if she has no powers—

Then this obsession is all mine.

I sit on my throne, considering my next moves. It’s been a long night. Between the oracles, then Isla’s secret ...

I should at least try to sleep. When I start to move, a pain shoots down my side. The blue. It’s spreading.

Slowly, I sink back into my throne. Peace. All I want is just a moment that is not utter chaos.

My head falls back. My eyes fall closed.

There she is. Isla. Sitting on the cliff just above my favorite beach. She turns to look at me over her shoulder as I approach.

Guilt spreads through my chest as I think about my plans.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she says. Only then do I notice the patch of stars above her. Only she could distract from a starry sky. She puts all of them to shame. She takes my silence as confirmation. “Me neither.”

This is a dream. I know it is. I hardly speak to her in these dreams, content to just sit with her here on this cliff, or on the beach below, but I realize .

.. here, in my head, I can be fully honest with her in a way I can’t be outside of it.

I can be honest about my feelings. About the turmoil she has unleashed in me.

If I get it all out ... even just in my head ... maybe these distracting thoughts will end. Because they must. So I can do what needs to be done.

“Isla.”

She just blinks at me.

And I say the words I wanted to. The ones I couldn’t say in that cave. The ones smelted from my very soul. My voice is harsh. Irritated.

“I hate you. I hate you, Isla. I really do.” I take a step toward her. “I hate you for turning my ice to fire, and my fire to ice ... for infuriating me in one moment and bewitching me the next.” I run my hands down my face. My voice is accusatory. Angry.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to look at you? Looking at you feels like drowning. I’m drowning in you, Isla, and the worst part is, I can swim, I can see the shore, yet here I remain, right in the center of your storm.”

This fire builds in me, all these emotions I have fought to bury. All these words I have sought to erase, but they are here. They are real .

“I don’t remember what sunlight feels like on my skin but when you look at me, it feels close. Centuries of darkness, and here you are, a reminder that this cursed world still has beauty in it yet. A reminder that it has fight in it yet.

“But spending time with you ... it is more pain than pleasure. It is misery. It is torment.

“Because your smile is a sunrise. But you—you are a sunset. This time with you is bound to end. It always ends.

“And damn me, I wish it could be endless. I really do. But you are a liar. You are my enemy. You are my greatest flaws and fears reflected back to me.

“And maybe that’s what this is—the jagged pieces in me finding the jagged pieces in you. And fitting together, somehow.

“The fire in me seeing the fire in you. And igniting. Finally igniting, after so much time spent fading.”

I have never bowed to anyone since I have become king, but I sink to my knees in front of her, needing her to understand. Begging her to release me from this.

“ Isla . You are beautiful in a way that words can’t hold. I wish I had all the time in the world to tell you all the ways you have captivated me, but that would surely take lifetimes, and we are on borrowed time already.” I shake my head. “I wish—I wish we were not enemies. But we are.”

It takes all my strength to stand. To say “I’m sorry” in advance. To leave her on that cliff, overlooking the beach.

I jerk awake.

I know what I must do.

Isla is going to hate me. I think of her eyes, swollen and red. I think of those tears, each like daggers through my chest. I’m about to make it all worse. She trusted me with her greatest secret, and I’m about to share it.

“Can I trust you?” she asked.

I told her yes. And she can, she can . This plan will benefit her. I’m not betraying her, not really. But she will not see it that way. I know that. She will hate me forever.

I need to do it anyway.

You got the words out, I tell myself. They can stop bothering you now. You need to do what is best for the island, not for her, not for one woman. I won’t be like Egan.

This will be proof that I am not my brother. If I can do this, then I can show myself that my duty comes before everything. Even her.

It makes me sick, but I do not change my plan.

She enters the room with her chin high, tears gone, confidence back, and it kills me that I am about to break it.

“I believe it’s time for a change in matches,” I say to the room full of rulers, and I swear I can feel the tenuous truce between us break.

Her eyes find me, and those green eyes—they’re wide with worry.

Worry I’ve caused. My next few words make them fill with nothing short of pain.

“Cleo, would it suit you to be matched so we might search Moon Isle for this relic together?”

Cleo grins. “Are you sure, King? It seemed you and the Wildling were getting along so swimmingly.”

Her words stab me more than she could ever imagine. I ignore them. I ignore the roaring in my blood, my own body knowing this is wrong. Almost feeling the anguish from across the room, as if it’s my own.