Page 109 of The Lost Prince
I hoped so. My chest heaved with the exertion of trying to pull air into my lungs.
Survival. It was always about survival, whether it was with the queen, the dragon, M, the stupid mud boys, or anyone else.
Survival mattered above everything. Ithadto. There was nothing else, was there?
Love.
The small, tiny little flicker of something stayed my hand.
Love …love? Like my mother’s love for me; a bastard child foisted on her? Like the queen’s love forbothher boys, one doted upon and spoiled, and the other kept outside like a dog?
Love didn’t make sense to me; it was an abstract concept that wasn’t tangible! And yet I’d felt it warm my chest, and seen it clearly in my life and in the twins.
“Z …”
The knife nearly clattered to the ground as Shava’s hand grasped blindly for my wrist and weakly clasped it.
“We are trapped, Shava. We are running out of air. Don’t speak.”
“You came back for me.”
Her voice had a small tingle of surprise and wonder. It didn’t offend me, because I was still in awe and wonder about it myself.
“Use your magick?” she croaked out.
How was I supposed to explain to her that the only way was through her death? My magick wasn’t the magick of fairy tales and epic stories. My magick was raw, and dangerous, and brutal.
“Shava, I—”
Her hand trailed up my arm, across my chest, and down the other arm to wrap around the hilt of the dagger.
“ ‘S ok. You think I don’t know what you did with the guard that day? Or Nisar? I went back with Cerys and Zariah. We saw the body. Cerys got freaked out. She begged Zariah to roast you until your bones turned to ash.”
I expected disgust and horror. Instead, she sounded … understanding? And yet … that bitch Cerys. I knew she’d had it in for me.
My lips pinched together.
“Cleary, hedidn’t,” I breathed out, using precious air.
“He … owes you much. We owe … you much. Least we could do. Least I can do.”
It made sense logically. I helped to establish the network of tunnels, and bring in materials to feed and clothe everyone, and make life bearable. I used my connections with the Fireguards to keep us safe and supplied. This entire operation would collapse without me.
And yet … was she giving me what I thought she was?
Could I take it?
The second question was far easier. Yes, I would take it. Because that was the only way you got ahead in life—by taking. No one would give you anything, and if they were foolish enough to do it, well then, who was I to disrespect their choices?
So … what is this, then?
I hesitated further. I didn’t enjoy doing anything I didn’t understand and this? This was … complex. If I was on death’s doorstep and our positions reversed, would I do the same?
I couldn’t quite say. Logically, I knew it made sense for one to give up their life to save the other. No sense in both of you dying, after all. And yet … until I was actually dead, could I give up the fight to live?
I wasn’t sure I could. Or would.
So what was her motivation?
