Page 91 of Of Wind and Terror

It’s covered in cobwebs and other unsavory substances, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“All right,” I agree and then turn to face Blaze. “But we will be talking about this.”

“You have my word,” he vows solemnly.

I allow my gaze to drift over the males present. “Let’s go.”

Treyton clamors awkwardly to his feet and moves to stand beside me. Desperation lines his beautiful features as he reaches for my arm. “Kassandra, please?—”

I flinch away from him. “Not now.”

Despair flickers across his face before he nods once. “Okay.”

He moves to stand near the back of our group, his shoulders hunched and his head lowered. I want to feel guilt for my actions, but I don’t. What he did…

It’s unforgivable.

I thought I could find the good in everybody, but maybe I was wrong.

Maybe there are some fae too damaged for even me to save.

We’re only able to walk a short distance before the sky opens up, releasing torrents of rainfall. Blaze curses and quickens his pace.

“Look over there!” Aleksander calls from behind me.

I glance over my shoulder to see him pointing at a burrow hidden by foliage and swaying branches.

Blaze and Aleksander both duck down to check the tiny encampment before assuring us it’s safe. Then we crouch down and settle in for the night.

It’s a tight fit with all four of us, and the twigs and leaves do very little to keep out the rain, but it’s better than nothing.

I find myself snuggled between Blaze and Aleksander, with Treyton remaining by the entrance.

My eyelids feel heavy, drenched in molasses, but my brain refuses to shut off to allow me to sleep. A sliver of moonlight penetrates the twigs, allowing the males to see my hands move.

“I don’t know what happened with Mitchia,” I confess at last.

With everything Treyton revealed, it was easy to forget the monster’s death. But now, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company, the memory comes rushing back with all the force of a battering ram.

Runt stirs on my lap, staring up at me with wide, guileless eyes, and I have a feeling he’s as invested in this conversation as the other three are.

“Mitchia? Was that its name?” Blaze asks.

“Her name,” I correct instinctively, then purse my lips. “She was going to kill you, so I stabbed her in the eye.”

Blaze goes rigid beside me, and Aleksander slings an arm around my shoulders. I can’t see Treyton’s expression, not from this far away, but I have a feeling he’s listening just as intently as the others.

“You did what you had to do,” Blaze assures me, his voice a low growl. “But I wish you didn’t have to. We were supposed to protect you. You never should’ve been in that position to begin with?—”

I squeeze his hand to cut off his rant. “I don’t know what happened. One tick, she was about to attack me, and the next, she was killing herself.”

I shiver at the memory. I’ll be haunted by it for years to come. Even now, I can hear the squelching of blood and guts, the cracking of bones, her hissed voice as she referred to herself as bad, bad, bad.

Blaze translates for Aleksander—and Treyton too, since I doubt he can see my hands—and I wait in uncomfortable silence to hear their verdict. I wonder if their thoughts traveled down the same road mine did.

Aleksander’s fingers trail across the mark on my skin. “You think the Mark of Chaos did it?”

“What other explanation is there?” I sign.

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