Page 100 of Night of Death and Flowers

The hurt from Drake and my feelings for Azkiel is a cocktail of confusion.

“I’m going to sit for a few minutes,” Ari says.

I nod as we lower ourselves against tree trunks, and Drake settles against a long one close by, avoiding making eye contact.

I curl up closer to my sister, leaning in, while keeping my eyes fixed upon Death, who is sitting across the other side of the clearing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask. “I really don’t mind carrying you.”

“No,” she says shakily after a brief pause. She fumbles her fingers—hands usually adorned with delicate rings and manicured nails, now crusted with mud. “Do you really care for him?” she whispers. “Azkiel, I mean? I see the way he looks at you.”

My stomach knots as I cast my eyes from her to Death. He leans back against a tree, his legs apart, knees in the air. His fingers meet in the middle as he turns the Skhola ring around his finger.

I purposely turn my attention back to Ari, my arm pressing into hers, and she leans her head sideways on my shoulder. “You must think me foolish.”

“No, I don’t blame you.” She lets out a long sigh, her wide eyes slowly closing. I roll my eyes up, nodding in agreement, then gently drape an arm around her shoulders, running my fingers through her silky, blonde locks.

“You’ve always protected me.” She wraps her arms around her stomach, searching for pockets of warmth among the thin fabric of her dress.

I half-smile. “I will always protect you.”

“I know, but I must do this,” she whispers, and I look over at Death as his lids close. A wave of exhaustion washes over me, tempting me with the enchanting allure of sleep, as if invisible ribbons of magic are binding me in place. A haze settles over my mind, as I struggle to keep my eyes open.

What is happening?

I try to speak, but haziness pulls my words from leaving my lips. Poison. She’s fucking poisoned us. The effects simmer into me. Into Death as well, although it will hold him for far less time than I.

Ari shoots me one last watery smile when she stands, her eyes sliding toward Azkiel, then back to me. “Astraea will take care of him,” she says. “I’m sorry, Cali. But I’m doing this for us.”

I try to open my mouth when she leaves with Drake, but I’m already being pulled deeper into a hazy darkness until I pass out.

THIRTY-NINE

Azkiel

My sister plagues my dreams. Her haunting essence is a constant companion as I fall through the layers of my subconscious in my sleep, unable to wake.

Astraea’s presence, once calming, is infused with malignance. Invisible coils of betrayal constrict me, holding me in my dream as it transforms.

I’m standing in a field of long, gray grass littered with skulls, both animal and human.

Familiarity etches the world surrounding me, the memory an accurate portrayal of the Ash War. Dead trees, adorned with bones, knot their branches toward the blue and purple, starry sky.

I close my eyes, sensing my sister behind me, her sadness so deep it may drown me. “Brother.”

“Sister,” I reply, my tone deeper, and calmer than expected, as I turn to face Astraea for the first time in over a century and a half. “I see you’ve finally visited me, instead of hiding behind Cyna.”

Her orb-like eyes lock with mine, once filled with comfort and love when she looked at me, now crowned in contempt. “I wasn’t ready to face you, after what you did.”

I hold my breath as I take in her familiar appearance. Her dusky-blue waves cascade down to her waist, tattoos—similar to my own—adorning her skin, and a frown etched on her soft features.

“What is it I did?” Every cavity of my soul aches when I see her, when I hear her voice, and I’m suddenly aware of how lonely I was in her absence.

Her thin face contorts in anguish, and the ethereal-like colors in her eyes seep into a profound darkness that surpasses my own. “You used mine and Volan’s bodies to keep Essentria, Cyna, and Nyxara trapped here. You cursed us all.”

“If that is true, then why did Nyxara take my memories?”

“So you wouldn’t return.”

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