Page 52 of The Mirror in the Mountain

“I’m going to go get ready for bed,” Eva said softly, a yawn escaping her as she disappeared into the bathroom.

I stripped down to my undershorts, seeing to my own needs when she had finished, only to find Eva sitting on our bed when I was done, her knees pulled to her chest as she stared at nothing.

Something hollow crept across our bond as she slowly lay down on the bed. I could sense the words she didn’t say hovering just out of reach as I settled in next to her, silently waiting. Watching as a hint of her darkness spread across the hazel of her irises.

Her magic swirled around us, hovering like a shield, but it didn’t keep me out. Instead, it reached toward me as if to tug mecloser. I wrapped my arms around her, and she nestled into my chest, her heart beating like the wings of a trapped bird.

After a long moment, she pulled away slightly, her eyes searching mine. When she spoke, it seemed to resonate in the deepening darkness of the room.

“I’ll do anything it takes to stop him.”

I could hear the iron will in her voice—and knew without a doubt she meant it. Just as I knew she was still keeping something from me.

Then I watched her eyes dim, the fire in them dying before being replaced with an emptiness I had hoped I would never see again. She turned away, curling into herself…the distance between us widening as she closed herself off even more than before.

Chapter 23

Eva

The morning mist clung to the kitchen window, blanketing the courtyard in a hazy fog that felt as if I was still in a dream. Like I was alone in the world, or perhaps at its very beginning. The soft, diffused light of sunrise cast a gentle glow on the sprawling plum trees—their dark leaves sparkling with dew as the world gently woke.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat here until the air around me changed, suddenly charged like it did whenever Bash was near. My heart pounded as I turned around to see him leaning against the doorway, his jaw flexing as my attempt at a smile fell flat.

Even this early he looked effortlessly handsome—the only hint of the apprehension I could feel down our bond visible in the way he was nervously rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his strong, freckled forearms.

“I didn’t think you were awake,” I muttered, turning back to my untouched breakfast. It had long since gone cold.

“Something important was missing from our bed,” Bash said simply. There was a sad sort of smile on his face as I raised my eyes to his, trying to ignore the roiling in my gut.

His stare tore right through me, exactly the way I knew it would—exactly the way I wished it wouldn’t. From the very beginning, he had always seen every part of me.

Quickly, I tamped down on our bond, even though I had been doing so since last night. But Bash could always read me like a book, even before our bond fell in place. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, as if squinting at the words written behind my gaze.

I should’ve known he would find me already, even though it was only just dawn. I had barely made it out of our bed with the way his shadows had wrapped around me after slipping away from the warmth of his arms, like they hadn’t been ready for me to leave just yet. Perhaps they had taken it upon themselves to alert their master of how I had woken straining against invisible chains, unable to scream.

Bash’s hand had curled against the warm sheets I had just vacated as I silently snuck out of our room, unable to quiet the buzzing in my head after the way I had ended our conversation last night. I hadn’t wanted to see anyone at the breakfast table and have them notice the war going on inside me—needing to find some control before I had it in me to look them in the eye.

Because the guilt felt like it might shatter me. I couldn’t get over the nauseating thought that I could end this all right now. That I was allowing the people of this realm to suffer, that soon everyone I loved would be forced to fight a war when one sacrifice would solve everything. I almost laughed at being faced with the ultimate utilitarian quandary that had come up during my mother’s many strategy lessons—whatwasone life worth when surrendering it would save so, so many?

But to actually go through with it felt like the worst sort of betrayal, both to myself and those who cared for me. It was one thing to forfeit my life in the heat of battle, to actively give myself up for my friends, my family—to die in response to an immediatethreat. It was another thing entirely to consider killing myself in a void, the act passively heartless. And especially not when there were still other options. When there was still another way, one that wouldn’t require me to give up everything in order to win.

It had been a close thing, yesterday, and my decision not to tell Bash—not the tell them all—was already wavering. Yet I knew that if Bash learned what it would cost to stop Aviel, he would talk me out of a choice that was already too difficult to make. Impossibly so when I wanted to cling to my life, cling to him, cling to all of it.

A dozen questions flickered in Bash’s expression, but he didn’t voice any of them. Instead, he said, “Let’s go on a walk.”

“I’m…” I glanced down at my untouched plate of food. “Eating.”

That muscle in his jaw flexed again before he said, dryly, “Are you?”

I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it. Bash just arched an eyebrow at me, then turned to walk out the door.

“It’s freezing,” I muttered as I followed him into the misty morning, pulling my cloak around me. I slid my hands into its pockets, if only to hide their shaking.

Bash’s hand slid into my pocket a second later, his fingers curling around mine. His thumb circled absently against the scar on my palm as he traced each petal.

I glanced at myanimato find his gaze already on me. A brisk wind ruffled through his auburn hair—tousled, like he had been tugging at it—those two-toned eyes swirling in concern. He hadn’t put on a cloak, seemingly indifferent to the chill.

We came to a stop beneath one of the plum trees, its blood-red leaves vivid against the fog. Bash’s hand caught my chin, calluses grazing against my skin as he gently turned my face back to his. His eyes were soft but expectant. I fought the urge to close mine, as if that could stop him from seeing everything.

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