Page 87 of The Fallen Kingdom

When I open my eyes, she’s standing ten feet away, her expression cold and recondite. “Our time is running out and I’m going to get my yes, little girl.” The Morrigan smiles her slow, victorious smile. “One word. That’s all it takes.” She disappears like smoke.

I’m left alone in the room of my nightmares. And I begin to believe I never made it out.

It’s so easy. Easy to fear and believe that I’m still under Lonnrach’s control. When I stare down at the bleeding mark the Morrigan left behind, I have to remind myself that it isn’t his. That I’m not there.

This is Kiaran’s coat, I tell myself.Remember? You ripped yours up after the Morrigan showed up as a water wraith and used it to bind your wounds. There, see? Feel your back. Those are her claw marks. Those are real. You’rereal.You’re all right. You’re real and you’re alive and this is Kiaran’s coat.

I slip the coat off my shoulders and press it to my face, closing my eyes.

It smells like him. Even with all my blood, it smells like him. Like wind and rain and sea, something wild and untamed. Like salt on the air. Like running through the trees, wind through my hair.

Then I hear a sound across the room, and when I look up, he’s there.

CHAPTER 39

MY FIRSTinstinct is to go to him, but something stops me.

Kiaran doesn’t look the same.

The shadows linger around him a little too closely. Long tendrils of darkness rise from the ground and wrap like vines around his legs. His skin looks paler. Even with his powers bound, he seems lit from within, shining. Beautiful. Until I look at his hands.

They’re covered in blood.

My eyes meet his and my chest tightens with dread. His irises are deep pools of black—not a hint of lilac in them. They settle on me and flash with hunger.

Are you Kiaran or are you Kadamach?

He shakes his head as if he’s clearing it, and the ink in his eyes begins to recede until I step forward. “Stay back.” His voice is sharp.

I put my hands up. “Are you all right?”

“No. You’re hurt again.” I hear his soft inhale. He can smell my blood. I doubt even a bonfire could hide the scent from him now. It’s all over me.

“The Morrigan,” I say, as if it explains everything. I look at his blood-soaked hands again. “Yours?”

Kiaran’s fingers curl to form fists. “I don’t know.”

He glances around and catches sight of himself in one of the mirrors. Then he shuts his darkened eyes. He’s getting worse, fraying at the edges.

“I don’t know,” he says again. “She made me kill you. I thought I’d killed you. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

I swallow hard. The Morrigan has been torturing him, breaking his control little by little. When he looks up at me again, his eyes are as black as a starless sky.

“How do I know you’re real?” Kiaran strides toward me, boots pounding across the floor. “How do I know you’re nother?”

Oh god. The shadows wrap around him in thick trails at his feet. He has the swift gait of a predator. Fast, so fast. I don’t have anywhere to go. Nowhere to run.

I back up until I’m pressed against the mirror and he’s still coming. “MacKay.”

Kiaran stops, inches away. His ebony eyes stare at me. The white of a fang glints between his lips. He tilts his head, a slight frown on his face.

“MacKay,” I whisper again.

Something glimmers in his gaze, then. Has he recognized me? Is he too far gone?

His hunger will always win out. Always.

No. That won’t happen. I can bring him back. Ihaveto bring him back.

---