Ronan

Ronan

I stared after Neela, listening as her footsteps receded into nothing and inhaling until her scent mingled with whatever Dion had cooked us for lunch.

Every muscle in my body tensed, wanting to spring after her and hold her down until she stayed forever. But she didn’t want me to follow her. She didn’t want me, period. And after all the things I’d done to her, the least I could do was respect this one last wish.

“Go after her, dude,” Leif whined. “Set her straight. Tell her she’s wrong.”

“But…she’s right.” I’d had no idea Neela didn’t know my House affected mood, but that didn’t make it any better. I knew my joy at seeing her was affecting her response to me. I fucking knew it, yet I let it happen.

I never suggested she guard herself against me, never taught her the basics of defense, but let my love for her infiltrate her own feelings, masquerade her indifference toward me. Her hatred.

A part of me had always known that was happening and wanted it. I wanted her to fall for me the way I was falling for her, so I let my feelings influence hers in ways I never should have.

Gabrelle swirled Dionysius wine in a clear crystal glass. “She had a few valid points,” she agreed.

Dion didn’t say a word. Just as well, because if he’d said a syllable against Neela, I would have ripped his face off, and I was tempted to do that anyway. I stared at his stupid hand-cut face, his salt-and-pepper curls and speckled eyes, and I wanted to punch him in his aquiline nose.

He’d never liked Neela, never supported me ignoring the blood magic, never wanted her to survive.

It would be so easy to let anger overpower my guilt, but the energy flooded from my body, and I sagged onto a dining chair with a thud.

Dion served me a plate along with everybody else, and talk turned to tomorrow’s Ascension Rite. Leif and Dion gossiped about which friends and acquaintances would Ascend into which power, placing bets on a few contentious ones. Gabrelle piped in occasionally with her silky smooth voice, but I couldn’t follow their words.

I took forkfuls of Dion’s food, which tasted like ash. Maybe his salt-and-pepper hair was because he added ash to the meal. No, that was a foolish thought.

Just as foolish as me believing that Neela could fall in love with me on my own merits. I’d treated her like crap, been an arrogant prick from the start, and tricked her into coming here in the first place.

No wonder she dropped me like trash the instant she found out the truth.

I felt the ghost of a grin on my face, the ridiculous expression I’d pulled out by the vegetable patch as I told her how I’d fooled her with the Floran Bracelet. A stupid grin on a stupid fae. Neela was proud and powerful, so why had I ever expected her to laugh when I explained how we manipulated her?

My companions were all looking at me, awaiting a response to some question they must’ve asked. “Sure,” I said, with no clue what we were discussing.

It seemed to do the trick. My companions ignored me again and went back to discussing whatever.

I excused myself and left, wandering out to Seb’s orange grove. The citrusy tang of those fresh plump oranges almost undid me as I pondered how I’d ruined my best friend’s legacy.

First, I tried to uphold that stupid pact we made out of fear. Then I stuffed around his sister so badly I didn’t think I could ever fix it.

The moonway home was a blur, of course, but so were the steps into my townhouse and up the stairs to my bedroom.

Neela would Ascend tomorrow with hatred in her heart directed at me.

The Ascension Rite would harden that hatred into a permanent wall I could never hope to undo. I’d lost her forever. With every atom of my being, I wanted to go to her and layer explanations over her. But she didn’t want me. I had to respect that.

The evening was hot. I didn’t bother summoning a Weather wielder to cool my room, I just tossed and turned like a Gaia-be-damned coal in a stove.

Dark figures crept along the walls and ceiling of my bedroom, Gaia’s demons sent to punish me for breaking a sacred blood bond. They snaked closer, converging on all sides, melting into one as though sent from the Shadow Walker King himself, blending and merging in their attack until I couldn’t breathe.

It was stifling hot, and my lungs constricted in fear, my body coated in sweat as Gaia’s vengeance lunged at me.

I woke in a sweating mess, my sheets sticky and my brow hot. Even a long cool shower didn’t ease the terror lodged in my heart. I had never truly faced the reality of what I’d done by turning my back on that blood magic. Making that sacred bond had been a foolish boys’ trick, but I would live to regret it until I died. And beyond.

I had to be there for Neela’s Ascension. I had to lock eyes with her before she killed herself, knowing she might never return to life. It settled into my bones as superstitious certainty, and I rushed my dressing, throwing on the same clothes I’d worn last night and stumbling out the door, clammy and anxious.

The love of my life would die today. Gaia willing, she would return, but the hatred etched in her heart might be engraved permanently during the rite, and I had to see her one last time before that happened.

I ran to the Plains of Forgetting, with the image of Gaia’s demons still burning in my memory.