Page 82 of A Wrecking of Salt and Fire

And she ran and ran and ran. From the thoughts, the fear, the pain. Until she slammed into a tree. Until she leaned up against it, the bark clawing at her back. At the scars that did not heal. The scars that could never heal. God born or not, these were sliced so deep in her, in her very soul.

And she wept. Wept for the past. Wept for the present. Wept for the future she would no longer have. Before she dried her tears on her sleeve and began running once more.

Chapter Forty-Four

Kohl

Nik—Alexander—whatever he called himself, he was a dead man. For how he kept Katrin from him. It didn’t matter that Katrin had spoken no more than a few words to him since he rescued her from The Nostos, from the clutches of that vicious prince. Or that she’d looked confused when Kohl first boarded the ship; that she’d looked like she belonged.

Kohl had not heard the words she spoke to the Prince of Nexos over the clapping of thunder, the strike of lightning, and the power of the endless starry sky that flowed from her to the ship and the seas below. Katrin was his. She would always be his. He just had to convince her of the same.

The silence of the forest shook him out of his thoughts. Katrin had taken off running again. She was always fast, but this was something else. Kohl tried to keep pace with her, but he truthfully stopped going on runs when he’d lost her. Tears stained her cheeks and yet she flew through the wood like a mountain lion, leaping over branches and roots. No target in mind, just the instinct to escape.

He dug deep, using whatever strength was left in his legs to propel toward her. Snapping of twigs caused Katrin to cock her head back over her shoulder. She knew someone was following her—knew and did not care. It was reckless and he had to stop her.

Inches, he was only inches from her now. Kohl reached out his hand, locking it around her wrist. “Katrin, stop!” He pulled her around until she was facing him, inches from his heaving chest. “You have to stop running, Aikaterine. From me. From everything.”

“I don’t want to talk to you! I don’t want to talk to anyone.” She tried to pull away, but his grip, even wrapped and injured, was too strong for her.

“I am your king and you will speak to me,” Kohl hissed. He had enough of it. Her brooding and hiding and self-deprecation. She was home. She should be happy.

“How could I forget?” Katrin seethed. “Tell me one thing, Kohl, did you even try to postpone the Acknowledgement? Or did you see the opportunity to take what was not yours and lunge? You are just like your father. You’d burn everyone around you all in the name of peace.”

“I am nothing like my father. I did this for you. For us!” It felt like fire was exploding in his veins once more. Black snaked around his finger tips and he clenched them into fists, the burn on his palm pulsing in pain.

Katrin’s lip twitched up in a snarl. “You almost killed my sister and now, what—you are going to try to kill me too?”

A long sigh left Kohl’s lips. His tension slowly retreated. He had to stay calm. “I would never hurt you, Aikaterine. ”

Glassy-eyed, brows furrowing, Katrin finally looked directly at him. “How can I believe that? How can I trust you?”

“I don’t know,” Kohl whispered. He took his good hand and clutched hers, bringing it to his heart. “But this has always been yours. Long before the prophecy was fulfilled. I know this isn’t how you pictured things—how either of us wanted our marriage to start. But even if you loathe me, I will always love you. Even after the gods take us. For the good of the isles, for the good of Alentus, can you not pretend you could love me once again too?”

Kohl inhaled a sharp breath, holding back the pools of liquid that formed behind his eyes. He would not shed a tear, not until she wrote him off entirely. Not until she said no.

Chapter Forty-Five

Katrin

Katrin had just married the love of her life. At least, that is what she would have said only a few months before. How everything could change that quickly was something her mind could not process right now. Right now she had to present a certain image to her people. Standing in front of her guests with smiles and polite waves. A woman of grace and respect. The Queen of Alentus. Her rightful title at last.

Maybe she would grow to love Kohl again. Despite the lies, the treachery, the plotting and destruction. Maybe redemption lay at the end of their path—or the beginning. But forgiveness was not an easy thing to come by in the isles, and trust even harder. That’s what it came down to. For her sister, for her people, for her home, she married Kohl. If Katrin was honest with herself, she didn’t think she could ever trust him again.

The wedding had been short, a series of formalities and boxes to check. It was not the lavish event that her mother and King Athanas had planned all those months ago. Vows were not exchanged except those promising loyalty to the other gods of the realm.

Katrin had worn a simple gown, made of white silk and turquoise, embroidered flowers along the hem. Kohl had selected the traditional formal attire of Alentus, a navy tunic and dress pants made of a thick cotton material, the banner of the isle patched on his chest. He donned the crown of Alentus, with its spikes exploding into stars around the fiery sun. Her crown by birthright. Instead Katrin was given a smaller circlet, engraved with the constellations that appeared around the summer solstice. A single lightning bolt struck through the center.

Kohl and Katrin exchanged simple thin silver bands, since she had refused the gold one presented to her earlier, as did she refuse the gold cuffs that King Athanas had presented as a wedding gift.

She knew he was getting increasingly angry at her dismissive attitude toward Morentian traditions and colors, but this was Alentus. Her home. Her colors. Her traditions. And even though she was back and Kohl seemed to be acting like himself again, she couldn’t help but remember the warning she’d received from Leighton in Skiatha. The treacherous rock hidden by gold, able to drain a god’s power right out from within.

She could not risk it. Would not risk it.

The people in the crowd before her cheered, for the return of their queen, for this blessing from the gods. But they had also cheered when Kohl had been crowned, when he defeated her sister by knocking her over the head with an almost lethal blow.

If there was one thing above all else she would never forgive him for, it was that. He had not protected the things that meant the most in the world to her. But neither had Katrin. She chose not to return. Chose to help a man that only ever lied to her over her own blood. She would not make that mistake ever again.

Today Katrin would go through the formalities. Wave graciously at her people like the newly crowned queen she was. Make small talk with whatever leaders of other kingdoms King Anthanas had decided to invite. Act the dutiful wife and consort beside Kohl, despite not being able to stand him at the moment. He had been right, tensions were too high in the isles, and they needed to show a unified front—in public.

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