Page 95 of Forging Darkness

“You can’t believe anything that psychopath told you.”

I press my lips together, unsure how to proceed. He’s not only been conditioned to believe it’s impossible for Forsaken to retain their angel-born autonomy, but he doesn’twantto believe it either. It’s probably easier for him to picture Silver as a beast that inhabits his dead sister’s body, rather than a transformed version of the family member he once knew and loved.

“Steel, I’ve talked with her. I think . . . I think it really is your sister.”

“Emberly. Don’t.” Despair leaks into his words, impossible to miss. I hate to labor the point, but he needs to know we have a chance. That when the time comes, maybe there’s something we can do to fight back.

“I wouldn’t press this—I know how hard this must be for you to consider, but we need to be prepared. There may still be some hope.”

There’s only silence from Steel’s side of the wall.

“Steel, the things she knows about you and your family. How can that be?”

“Maybe Forsaken can access some of their host’s memories.”

“I considered that as well—assumed that was the case. But the emotion behind those memories is so real. I don’t think that’s something a Forsaken can fake. It’s just . . . If there’s a chance, we need to be prepared to fight.”

He sighs, and I hear his hands slide over the bars before he sinks to the floor again. His voice is weighed with exhaustion. “Even if it were true, I’d rather die than live as a Forsaken.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Don’t say that, Steel,” I whisper. “Death isn’t preferable.”

“Trust me, it is. Look at Silver—if that’s her in there, being a Forsaken has changed her, and not for the better. If the worst happens, I’d expect you to do whatever you could to end my life.”

“I wouldn’t do it.” That’s not something he can ask of me.

Turning, I sit against the stone wall. Tipping my head back, I stare at nothing on the ceiling.

I chew on my bottom lip, steeped in indecision. My interactions with Silver over the past week churn in my mind. “Steel, what happened with Silver all those years ago?”

There’s only silence from Steel’s side of the wall until he says, “Whatever Silver told you is probably true.”

“She hasn’t told me much,” I confess.

“Everything that’s happened to her is my fault.” Steel’s voice is flat and devoid of emotion. I always assumed some of his issues were due to an extra-large dose of survivor’s guilt, but maybe there’s more to the story.

“But you were so young. Lost in a snowstorm on the side of a mountain. It was a miracle either of you made it back unscathed. No one could have predicted that a group of Forsaken would find Silver before the Nephilim did. Blaming yourself for what happened to her seems a bit extreme.”

The silence stretches for so long, I’m sure he’s not going to respond. When he does, his voice is low. I have to strain to hear him.

“The Forsaken found us when we were lost in the storm. I used Silver’s life to barter for my own.”

I crawl over to the cell’s bars, disbelieving my own ears.

“You what?”

The story spills from Steel’s lips. The sordid tale pulls at my heart and brings tears to my eyes. The heaviness Steel carries with him begins to make sense as he explains how they were attacked by Forsaken and the life of one twin was bartered for the other. The impossible situation he was put in and the decision no loved one should have to make. The horror of the consequences of his choice. I’m struck silent, the breath held inside me when his voice tapers off.

“I ended Silver’s life that day the same as if I’d run a blade through her heart. Even if part of her is still alive within that hardened shell of a creature, she’s warped and distorted, capable of killing without remorse.” He drags in a labored lungful of air. “I’m not looking for her forgiveness. I’ll never get it, nor do I deserve it, but it’s my responsibility to end this.”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if there’s anything to say. What went down all those years ago was undeniably sinister. The right and wrong of the situation isn’t as clear as black and white. The shades of gray that exist in their tale are multifaceted.

Silver’s anger toward Steel is both justified and not, but one thing is for sure, he’s tortured himself for years over what happened. Besides mental anguish, his emotional walls are ironclad, and he’s taken the role of protector to ridiculous lengths.

In a way, he’s as much of a shell of the person he could have been as Silver is. More than one life was destroyed that fateful day.

“Steel, I—” The words catch, but I’m determined to get them out, so I steamroll the knot of emotion lodged in my throat. “I can’t say what you did was right or wrong. You were placed in a no-win situation. You were untrained children going up against supernatural monsters. There was no way you or Silver could have both escaped unharmed.” I curl my hands against the ground. Gravel and dirt collect under my nails. “You can’t change the past, you can only move forward. Something you’ll never be able to do if you don’t forgive yourself.”

Silence fills the breach between us once more. His voice is low, barely above a whisper when he does respond. I strain my ears to pick up each syllable.

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