Page 103 of Shattered Stars

I glance at Azlan meeting his dark eyes. Then I turn back to our girl. In this moment, she looks so young, so small, so vulnerable. Not the powerful, fiery woman I know her to be. All I want to do is hold her in my arms and promise her that everything is going to be all right. But the more we’re pulled into this strange web, the more I’m beginning to doubt that it’s that simple.

Rhianna had dreams. Okay, dreams long ago, but dreams nonetheless that showed her the future. Just like her mother. She has not one, but three fated mates. She is no ordinary girl.

“Rhi,” I say gently, “that image in your mind, of that injury.”

“To Spencer Moreau,” Azlan adds, and my eyes flick to him briefly.

“Did you do that?”

Her entire body shakes and she drops her gaze to her lap, unable to look at either of us. For a long moment, she doesn’t answer me, and I can hear the hands of my watch again, ticking away. But then she swallows.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it was me. I did it. And …” She peers up at me, fear and defiance shining in her eyes. “It happened again, when I was trapped by Barone. I felt it again, sizzling on my fingertips, begging me, pleading to … kill him. And out in the forest with Summer when she stole my necklace.”

“It might not have been–”

“Spencer said it was. And Tristan. And Barone. Even Summer. They all recognized it for what it was.”

So had I. I knew what it was. It was why I’d been so desperate to pry that thought from her head.

“What does it mean?” she says, chewing on her lip. “Tristan said it would get me locked up.”

“It’s old magic,” I say carefully, “ancient and powerful magic.”

“Dark magic?” she asks.

“Sometimes, yes. Not always.”

She shivers. “I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

“How does it make you feel?” Azlan asks.

“Like a killer.”

“Sometimes we have no choice but to kill,” he says sternly, staring down at his own hands. “Sometimes it’s justified.”

“If Renzo was trying to kill you–”

“But Spencer wasn’t. And neither was Summer,” she snaps, “they just really, really pissed me off and I … I … I nearly …”

“But you didn’t. You’re a good person, Rhi,” I say, clasping her hands in mine. “You know that. This ability doesn’t make you–”

“Evil,” she says.

“Twisted,” I joke lamely. “Slightly disturbed, and maybe deranged. Not evil.”

She manages a lame smile back, although it fades quickly. “The chancellor said my mom made a prediction. That a girl would come. A powerful girl.”

Azlan scoffs. “People have been making predictions for centuries. The return of the fire queen,” he says dismissively.

“From the fairytale?” she asks.

“Exactly, from the fairytale.”

“The chancellor seems to believe it.”

“You think you’re that girl,” I ask with a nudge of my elbow.

Her cheeks pinken. “I don’t know.”