Page 88 of To No End

The rest of us made our way through the line and took our seats. I went to gulp my water when I found myself suddenly alarmed by the unexpected sweetness. I almost spit the drink out, which would have undoubtedly ruined my meal.

“I took the liberty of transfiguring the water to wine. Seems like a night where everyone could use it. If any of you tell Saryn, I will find you,” Cairis said as the others began to inspect and smell their cups.

Gia raised her hand, lifting her cup to Cairis’. “About time. Cheers!”

Trace followed the brief silence with an encouraging remark, “If you’re taking requests…ale next time. Not wine.”

I wished their banter made the air in the room feel lighter, but it was a minuscule improvement, at best.

We chewed our food and sipped at our wine, lucky that neither Saryn nor Theory had been there to witness any of what had transpired. We could have just kept to ourselves, tried to enjoy the rest of our meal, and gone to the Vespers or bed—but luck was not on my side.

Varro shoved his emptied bowl to the center of the table, leaned back with folded arms, and inquired, “When are we going to get to the bottom of what’s going on with you two?”

He pointed his finger back and forth between Trace and me. Cairis shook his head in disappointment and slumped into his seat with a knowing look. Trace appeared beyond perturbed.

“What, Varro, are you upset that I’ve seen her wings? And I don’t mean on the flight deck…”

I could have strangled Trace for giving them an ounce of confirmation without aligning with me first. The past, our secret, it belonged to both of us, not just him. He didn’t care how I felt. He just wanted to piss off Varro, but he’d done that and more, because now I was livid. I kicked my chair back and rose to a stand, leaning over the table and hoping they could feel the anger pulsing off me.

“You two are pathetic. Who gives a fuck if he was a black cloak? Who gives a shit about the last dinner roll? And most importantly, who cares who I’ve slept with? Our past is as good as dead. Move on and grow up!”

The words spilled out of me without an ounce of regret or hesitation. Nothing about my choice words sounded lady-like, and that was fine by me, because they needed to know I’d had enough of this. Enough of the staring and the whispers. Enough of the unspoken accusations.

“You put us all at risk. How can we trust you? How do we know you both aren’t going to be a liability?” Varro wouldn’t let it go.

I seethed. “The past is in the past. Trust that.”

I stormed out of the room and headed toward my quarters, anxious to put distance between myself and the others. I heard footsteps behind me but did not turn to see who followed.

Before I could slam the door shut behind me, a hand blocked it and Trace stepped through the entryway.

“Why did you do that?” I pleaded, trying to hold back frustrated tears.

“Because even if I cannot have you, you are mine!” he snarled back angrily.

“No, I’m not,” I shouted. “I’m not yours, no more than you were ever mine. We were never each other’s to have.”

The sad truth of that washed over me like a tide. The hurt spread across Trace’s stunning features like an eclipse.

“I’m not the same person as when you met me, and neither are you. Maybe those two people could have been something, but we will never get that back. They’ve taken everything from us. Don’t you see that?”

“‘Like seeing something that’s already gone’…” he trailed off in a whisper, haunting me with my own words.

His hazel eyes began to glisten, betraying his stoic facade. He reached for my hand but I pulled away from his embrace, keeping my arm tight against my side. It was then I knew… We were truly broken.

As he exited my room he turned to say, “If you don’t choose fate, just know that I’d choose you.”

He shut the door behind him, leaving me solitary and wordless. What could he possibly mean by that? Our fates were already chosen.

CHAPTER

27

I tried to sleep, I really did, but tossing and turning while wide awake was all I had accomplished in the last hour. I’d given up on trying to rest because I was too riled up from the events of the day. I decided I’d blow off some steam with the Vesper and made my way down the winding hallway.

Lazily I picked the first door, a different room than I normally went to. It made no difference because a Vesper was a Vesper, no need to be particular. That irritating buzz was back again. Coursing through me like a low hum, making my skin prickle and itch.

I sat on the cot and stared at the glow of the Vesper, welcoming the familiarity of the soft amber light. I let out a deep exhale, trying to rid myself of one of the heaviest days since my arrival. My mind was a mess, and deciding the best way to clear it was the issue. I couldn’t reconcile if I just wanted to fight someone, inflict a little pain, or have some pain inflicted on me. Perhaps I’d just let some pretend version of Nori hug me till I cried myself to sleep.

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