Page 81 of Night of Death and Flowers

Feeling returns to my fingers and toes, and I cough until I’m spluttering and wheezing, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I peel my eyelids back to reveal Azkiel’s face. Wet, silver strands slather against his forehead, water drops dripping from his parted lips. “Breathe, Poison,” he urges through the haze in my mind from the lack of air.

Dregs of air slide into my throat as I struggle in a breath, my lungs feeling as if they’re going to burst. Azkiel’s hold on me tightens as he sweeps an arm under my limp legs, the other firm around my back. Scooping me up, he walks us out of the river. My back lands gently against the cold ground, and I turn onto my side, water spilling from my freezing lips.

Of course Death looks so worried. He can’t have me dying on this island when he thinks I’m the prophesied one.

Azkiel growls under his breath as he looks around. “An elder was here.”

Drake is at my side in a heartbeat, careful not to touch me as Azkiel slathers the paste I made over my arms, but it won’t do much since it’s not finished.

“Cali, can you hear us?”

“Yes,” I splutter, then sit up, looking around, my fingers clutching the fabric of my dress. “You said an elder was… Where’s Ari?” I ask, when I notice she’s not lying where I left her.

“It was Dephina,” Drake explains, clamping his eyes shut. “She was in the trees, and then she took Ari.”

“What?” I shout, and crawl onto all fours, coughing again until my throat is coarse. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

His expression crumples. “You fell in the river, and they were already gone. You could have died.” The sun glints in his eyes, and I’m reminded of the boy I have been friends with since I was a child. “Then Death came.”

Azkiel isn’t listening, his eyes scanning the trees, an ancient blackness stealing the silver from his irises. “Where’s Thorn?”

“He flew away,” Drake answers.

I fold onto my knees, my head in my palms. “We must save Ari. They’re going to sacrifice her. If Dephina is here, then—”

Azkiel’s tone teeters on dangerous when he booms, “What do you mean she will be sacrificed?”

I close my eyes. Fuck. If I tell Death he’ll try to kill her later after getting her off Tenenocti, but the gods may kill her now. Dephina must have been the one to move the bodies.

“Ari’s the prophesied one,” I blurt, and take Drake’s arm to steady myself as I stand upright. “She always was, and you picked her at The Choosing, just like the other gods wanted.”

THIRTY-ONE

Azkiel

The air feels different by the time we arrive back at the house, as if the island is charged with a new current of bloodlust.

Calista blocks my path before I can veer into the forest without her, arms crossed over the swells of her breasts outlined under the wet fabric slicked to her body. Droplets cascade from a few tendrils of hair curled around her forehead. “We’re going with you.”

“You will only slow me down,” I reply, circling around her, but her hand lands on my arm.

“She is my sister. I need to find her.”

I hear the traitor’s footsteps behind me, then silencing a short distance away. I can’t wait to watch the useless boy die. If I hadn’t stalked them to the river, then Calista would be dead.

So many words build in my mind when I look at her, holding onto me with fierce determination. “I said no.”

Her nostrils flare, and she licks the river from her lips. “You cannot hurt her. We can find another way to stop the prophecy. Not all fates are written in stone! They can be changed.”

She sounds like me, a week ago. Yet, every time I believe I’ve out-maneuvered Nyxara, another revelation unfolds. All paths end with their awakening, except for death. It is the only thing that is permanent.

“How do you know it’s your sister?” I ask, a question I should have asked at the river, but the bloom of anger swelling in my chest stole all rational thought. If it’s true, then it doesn’t explain why she exists—a woman with my decay magic.

Calista lifts her chin, then runs her hands down to her hips, my eyes following the trail. “Ari has Essentria’s ethereal magic.”

“How do I know you are not lying?” I lean closer, then hiss, “With that venomous tongue of yours.”

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