Page 66 of Voidwalker (Beasts of the Void #1)

Fi pulled back. She brushed a thumb to Astrid’s lips, raw and chapped, but only fiercer for it.

Hers, once. Never again. “I won’t be a coward anymore.

I spent all this time wishing I could undo what happened.

I see now… things can never go back to how they were between us.

” She swallowed, a razor lodged in her throat. “But we can do better than this.”

All those years ago, Fi ran because she was afraid—afraid of Verne, afraid of how Astrid would look at her when she learned what Fi had done. Could facing that fear have circumvented all this?

She could never know. She could only choose what happened next.

Fi stood.

“Go,” she ordered.

Astrid looked up at her with stricken eyes. Tears on her lashes. “What?”

“Go. Walk away from this, Astrid. You’re done fighting.”

Her lips quivered disbelief. And fear. “But Verne…”

“You’re done serving Verne!” Fi’s shout rang across the ice like a crack of thunder. Then, softer, “I got to run away last time. Now, it’s your turn. Run away, and I’ll stay behind to finish this. I’ll make sure Verne doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

Astrid stood with the resolve of damp paper, bent at the ribs. Bafflement was an uncommon pinch to her face, an unguarded glimpse of the person Fi used to know.

Warier, Astrid looked to Antal, appraising the daeyari’s bared fangs and stiff tail with the tension of a snared rabbit.

“Don’t look at him .” Fi grabbed Astrid’s shirt in both fists, forcing their faces together. “This is between you and me. It always has been. You called me to Thomaskweld. You dragged me into this fight.” Her grip slackened, breaths turned uneven. “Let’s finally be done with this, Astrid.”

Astrid didn’t fight. Didn’t pull away. Petrified, like granite.

Then, wide eyes and a whispered, “You can’t beat her, Fi.”

“Really? Because you look like shit. We drove that Beast out of Nyskya. Verne’s next. Don’t be a part of that, Astrid.” Fi released her. Pointed at the Curtain. “Walk away.”

Astrid hesitated. Again, her glance cut to Antal, confusion growing when the beast didn’t lunge, claws restrained by the command of the human at his side.

Antal scowled at Fi, tail an aggravated flick. She returned a glower that ought to make even an immortal tremble.

“Fionamara’s offer is generous,” Antal conceded in a warning growl. “You should take it, Arbiter. Swiftly.”

Astrid’s eyes flicked between them, still confused. She swayed back a step. “Fi—”

“ Go .” Fi willed everything into the plea. All her hope. All her apology. “Please, Astrid. Just… go.”

Those ruby eyes were made to chisel Fi’s heart. She got one last look at them, wide and bright and straining with a thousand words unsaid.

Then, Astrid fled through the Curtain.

Fi counted the time in breaths. In the thrum of her heart against her sternum. In the soft crunch of ice as Antal moved to her side.

She waited long enough for Astrid to disappear.

Merciless Void, Fi hoped this was the right decision.

The aurora hummed overhead, a song for a starless night. In the distance, ice creaked upon the frozen lake. Antal brushed a thumb to Fi’s cheek, inspecting dried blood and her swollen nose.

The tight line of his jaw said what he thought of her compassion. He let Astrid go, anyway.

“Thank you,” Fi whispered.

“Why?” There was an edge to his voice. And a slip of uncertainty. An unspoken question of what in Veshri’s mercy did I just watch, and why did we let her go?

“I was supposed to be Verne’s Arbiter,” Fi said. “She took Astrid instead. She’s only part of this because of me, and…” A steadying breath. “Now we’re even.”

Antal hummed. He licked his thumb, then gently wiped the crust of blood from her lip.

“If she ever touches you again,” he said, “I’ll carve her spine out, piece by piece.”

“Yeah. I’m sure she realizes that, Antlers.”

Fi gave a small laugh, grateful for the levity. For the comfort of his touch. Never long enough, before reality sank its claws in.

“The fighters in Nyskya,” Fi said. “They went after the Beast.” She looked to Antal, hopeful he had more news since she’d left.

He shook his head. “I came for you.”

Of course he did. Tender creature.

They pushed through the Curtain, back onto the Plane. Fi didn’t look for Astrid’s tracks in the snow, didn’t want to know what direction she’d fled.

Antal offered his hand.

They emerged from the teleport in Nyskya’s square. A wretched sight: snow stained red and black with blood, ground strewn with broken energy capsules, buildings marred by claws and stray bolts. And quiet. So quiet, with everyone gone.

Then, voices ahead.

Fi ran toward them. The haggard, human-shaped amalgamation of bloody coat and flyaway curls that was Fionamara Kolbeck ran because her heart felt like week-old pudding, her bones were barely strung together, and the sight of Nyskya’s fighters returning down the main avenue seemed the only balm to hold her in one piece.

She grinned upon spotting Kashvi—actually grinned at that frazzled wolverine limping back with a knife-honed slant to her brow. And Boden…

Fi nearly lost her footing on the snow.

Nearly fell. Nearly screamed.

Ran faster instead.

Two fighters carried Boden between them, his arms draped across their shoulders. Head slumped.

Blood drenching his coat.