Page 113 of Of Wind and Terror

“I said some horrible things,” I continue, my hands shaking as I sign. “And I think a part of me meant them. But I shouldn’t have meant them. What you did was horrible—you know that, and I know that—but not unforgivable. You never intended for it to go that far. You changed your mind, and that means something. Your father never should’ve released the virus.” My ribs seem to press against my lungs. Breathing is impossible. “I don’t know what this means for us and this so-called mating bond?—”

Treyton’s breath hitches.

“—but I don’t want to be angry anymore. I’m not saying I forgive you, but I don’t want to hate you either.”

“You… You hated me?” Treyton’s voice is a breath of sound. An exhale of air.

“I don’t know,” I confess. “Maybe? I was angry because all I could think about was all of those fae who died. I lost my voice and hearing because of you, Treyton. It’s a lot for me to wrap my head around.”

“I’ll get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness if that will make any difference. Kassandra…please.” With a gentleness belying the anxiety in his eyes, Treyton grabs my cheeks between his hands and guides my face towards his.

He doesn’t kiss me, but he also doesn’t immediately pull away. The acrimonious tension stretches and pulls, turning taut. My breathing is embarrassingly shallow, and his isn’t much better.

“Please say you forgive me.”

It takes considerable effort to lift my hands in the air to sign. “I can’t. Not yet. But maybe in time.”

His long lashes flutter against his cheekbones. “I understand. But now that I know there’s a chance you can forgive me, I’ll never stop proving myself to you. Never. Only when I’m dead.”

“Don’t say that.” I travel my gaze up the smooth column of his throat and pause when I reach the red line I noted earlier. I reach a hand towards it instinctively.

“Kassie, don’t.” His voice breaks.

“What happened? Who did this to you?” It certainly wasn’t there earlier. Is that why he changed his clothes? Why he wore a long-sleeved shirt with a high collar?

“Kass…”

Whatever Treyton’s about to say is interrupted by pain.

Blinding, agonizing pain that steals the breath straight from my lungs. A lance of fire dances across my vision, and I fall backwards, my spine arching. A scream lodges in the depths of my throat, refusing to release.

It feels as if I’m ruthlessly being turned inside out. As if my skin is where my muscles were and my muscles are where my skin was.

What is happening to me?

“Kassandra!” Treyton falls to his knees beside me, panic twisting his handsome features. “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

My arm…

It’s burning.

Gaia, the pain…

I flick my gaze towards the mark on my arm—a mark that seems to be glowing a bright, luminescent shade of red. Panic jangles my nerves as the pain persists. It takes considerable effort to swallow down the sharp spike of fear.

What the fuck?

Darkness paints across my vision, black and depthless. Only Treyton’s face remains visible, illuminated like he’s haloed in fire. The pink strands of his hair kiss the angles of his face, and his blue eyes are wild and desperate. He opens his mouth, but whatever he says is lost to me, drowned out by a deafening roaring sound.

Am I dying?

Is that what’s happening?

My vision begins to shake—or maybe the castle is shaking.

All I know is I feel as if I’m dying, and bile is attempting to crawl up my esophagus.

Treyton throws his body over mine as a piece of the ceiling falls inches from where he once was. More and more cement and wood rain down on top of us. Thunder cackles in the distance, and a zigzagging strip of light illuminates the sky.

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