8. LONNIE

8

LONNIE

THE OBSIDIAN PALACE, EVERLAST CITY

T here was a strange buzzing in the back of my head I recognized immediately as shock. Dead? How could my mother be dead? I'd just seen her. Just talked to her.

Just wrestled with whether to kill her myself.

Suddenly, a horrible realization hit me and my hand flew to my mouth. "So, I…"

"No," Ambrose said quickly. "I don't think so. She wasn't burned, and you don't have the power to simply end someone's life by willing it so."

He looked conflicted like he wasn't entirely sure if that was true. Like he was wondering if I did in fact have that power, and we simply didn't know it.

"What happened to her?" Bael asked, all the excitement of minutes before lost from his voice.

"I don't know," Ambrose said, sounding more bitter than I would have expected from him. "We went down to talk to her after…well, after you two went upstairs, and she was just gone."

"But she was fine," I cried, disbelieving. "I'd just left her, and I didn't—" I broke off, my voice cracking.

A strange numbness washed over me, enveloping my body and mind in a thick fog. I felt worn out, as if I had been running for miles without rest. And yet, at the same time, I felt disconnected from myself, almost as if I was watching everything unfold from a distance. My emotions were dull and distant, elusive and unattainable. It was like being trapped in a dream, unable to fully grasp reality.

At that moment, a heavy realization washed over me. It was a deep knowing, a certainty that settled in my bones and made them ache. I knew with absolute clarity that I could never have followed through with killing my own mother. No matter how hurt or angry or betrayed I may have felt, the thought of taking her life was inconceivable to me. Her words and actions may have wounded me deeply, but they could never justify such a heinous act. My conscience would not allow it.

So then, the question became: Who did? Who killed her?

"What were you arguing about?" I asked suddenly, glancing up at Scion and then to Ambrose.

"Nothing important, Rebel," Scion ran his hand through his hair. "Just what might have happened to her."

I nodded dully. I'd thought as much.

Unlike other deaths I'd experienced, this felt unreal. I almost didn't believe it, and likely wouldn't until I saw her body for myself. Was it a sudden act of violence that occurred between the time I left her and when Ambrose and Scion found her, or did she simply pass away. With the truth now revealed, perhaps her life's mission was complete.

Without warning, my legs wobbled underneath me, threatening to give out at any moment. In a flash, Bael was there, his strong arms wrapped around my trembling body, steadying me. His deep voice rumbled with reassurance, "You're going to be fine, little monster."

A bleak part of me wanted to agree that yes, I probably would be fine. I'd endured much worse than this before, and probably would again.

Even to my own ears, however, that sounded callus.

I didn't have to say anything as once again, Bael picked me up and carried me the last few paces down the hall toward our room. For the moment, all thoughts of Aisling and Idris were forgotten, and any questions I had about what more secrets my mother might have kept disappeared.

The silence between us was heavy as we entered the room.

Bael carried me across the floor and placed me down gently on the bed. I instinctively curled into a tight ball atop the blankets. A second later, I felt the mattress dip as he lay down beside me.

A moment later, Scion followed. I didn't open my eyes, but I knew it was him from the scent of pine and amber, and the stilted way in which his footsteps crossed the room. Stiffly, like after all this time he still half-expected me to not want him there.

As he sat down on my other side, I moved ever so slightly closer and his posture seemed to relax. He gently placed his large hand on top of my head and began to run his fingers through my messy hair.

Despite my shock and the beginnings of grief, a part of me felt almost calm. Yet…

Practically against my will, my eyes cracked open. I squinted toward the door where Ambrose still hovered on the threshold, reminding me uncontrollably of Scion back at the inn in the forest. On that occasion, it had been Bael who convinced his cousin to join us, but I was quite sure that neither Bael nor Scion would be so generous this time. Which left it up to me to ask for what I wanted. The only question being: what did I want?

My gaze found Ambrose's dark eyes and he gave a tiny jerk of his head, as if to say "I'll leave you to it." Then, he stepped back, beginning to pull the door shut behind him.

I sucked in a deep breath, my entire body tingling with anticipation. "Wait! Aren't you staying?"

Beside me, I felt Scion stiffen and hold his breath. His fingers ceased their combing through my hair, and I knew he was watching me. Meanwhile, Ambrose stopped with one foot out the door, and glanced over his shoulder at me. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, lov–Lonnie," he replied, seeming to stumble over my name. "You've just had a shock, and I don't want to make things harder for you."

By "harder" I was sure he meant that he didn't want to keep fighting with Scion in front of me, but I pretended not to understand. "Then don't make them harder. I'm asking you to stay."

Ambrose didn't reply. Instead, he stared at me for a long moment. Then his eyes flicked toward Scion, before he took a tentative step into the room.

Ambrose crossed the room at a torturously slow pace, and walked around the side of the bed nearest Bael, keeping as much distance between himself and Scion as possible. I expected him to join us on the bed, but he didn't. Instead, he reached for the chair beside my vanity table, and spun it around taking a seat beside the window.

It wasn't exactly what I'd wanted, but it was better than if he'd left. I felt…calmer…with all of them here.

I sighed, and lay back down as Scion resumed his stroking of my hair.

"What do you want from us, little monster," Bael asked roughly.

I glanced at him, and a thousand ideas shot through my mind at once. Did I want to rage, or to forget, or talk? I didn't know, and yet I felt comfort in the fact that whatever I said, I was sure I'd face no judgment or resistance from any of them.

My throat ached from holding back tears and my eyes burned with exhaustion. I couldn't bear the thought of facing this alone, so I pleaded with them to stay, to wrap their arms around me and offer comfort in their warm embrace. "Please," I whispered through trembling lips, "just hold me."