Page 110 of Dragon Fires Everywhere
“I would not have cared if I had died in the blaze of war, or in saving you—or who you once were. I would not hold a grudgeagainst this king if we had died on the battlefield.” He shakes his head. “But I was his brother-in-arms. And he betrayedme.”
I hold his angry gaze. I see a million hurts in his onyx-and-gold eyes that I realize he has never dealt with. His soul mightremember all the lives he’s led, but he tries to leave them—and each death—behind.
Perhaps that was why it was so easy for him to jump intolifewith me in the beginning.
And so easy for him to pull away when he was reminded how it ends.
How it always ends.
“We aren’t talking about the king you knew, Azrael,” I remind him. “We are talking about hisgrandson.”
I don’t saymine, because Gideon isn’tmygrandson. I know that once, he was. But I don’trememberpast lives—it seems I can only occasionally feel them. And while a piece of my soul was there, it does not make up who Iam, or at leastallof who I am. I have more lives, including this one.
“You have a world to save,” Azrael tells me. “If my brethren are freed, I will not stand in your way. I will not decry yourill-advised alliance with the crows. I will not be a hindrance.” He leans a little closer. “But I will not be a part of it.”
“You’re our fabulae.”
“You can find another.”
IfIcould shoot flames from my mouth, I would.
He moves closer now, lowering his voice so only I hear him. “It would be best for you all. I have lived this life you’re tryingto re-create, Georgina. I was killed, and you lived with that monster till the end of your days. Do you wish for history torepeat itself?”
I study him and realize what I’mreallyseeing. Not stubbornness for the sake of stubbornness. Not even old grudges.
Fear.
And it all started at that river. When I was harmed. And even though he saved me that time, he has lived through failing tosave me. And not just me, but the Wilde Historian who came before me, old Linus, who walked into the river himself one morning.He even failed to savehimselfin the crow war.
For a moment, all my anger softens. Because I remember how lost we all felt when Lillian died. How Zander became a shell ofhimself when he lost his mother. Grief is a terrible thing to bear, and Azrael’s had to do it over and over again.
We both have, but mine is wrapped up in the forgetting, and feels like longing. His, I see, stays sharp. Because heremembers.
“Azrael.” I try to find the words to get through to fear. To hurt and grief. I’m not sure I have them. “There are risks wemust take in this life. And in my life—no matter how short or long—I want to know I did the right thing. So all you’re doingright now is hurting me.”
“Will you always do this? In every life? Put everyone above yourself? Have you not finally learned, Georgina, you really arespecial. But it means nothing if youdie.”
I don’t remember every life, but I know he’s wrong. “Sacrifice for the right cause is not a mistake, no matter the outcome.When willyoulearn that?”
He scoffs disgustedly and turns away from me.
I realize something with a harsh pain. It has not occurred to me until this moment. We might be soulmates, that red thread tugging us from life to life, and I might like this current version of him—hell, I’m in love with him, for all that matters right now, but...
“This is not love,” I say.
He whirls around, looking stricken. Then furious. “I remember every second my soul has loved yours. I know what love is.”
“No, you don’t.Idon’t need to remember to know. I just know.” I reach over to thump my finger into his chest and instantly regret it, becausetouching him just makes me want to touch him more. But I don’t. I make myself go on. “You are only worried aboutyou. Howyou’dfeel if I die. How it will hurtyou.” I am so tired of crying in front of this dragon, but I can’t stop myself. I am so tired of letting him hurt me, but hecan’t seem to stop either. “What about if I live knowing I failed my coven? I failed myself? If I amspecial—”
“I have roamed this earth waiting for your soul to return to me again and again,” he roars. But he calms, quiets. Seriousbut fierce. “And I will not be a part of watching you throw that life awayagain. Forcrows.”
But it isn’t for crows, or him, or me. It’s for... everything. “You’re really cutting me off because I won’t sacrificeeveryone elseto save myself?”
He is decidedly quiet then.
“You’re pretending this is about a crow who did nothing to hurt you, even if his grandfather did. But it is nothing but selfishness.”I thump him again, and say it. “Cowardice.”
Still he says nothing. I want to think the words are penetrating, but I can tell from his stubborn expression they’re not.
