Page 39 of The Curse of Ophelia

“I can.”

“No, Ophelia, you can’t.” She pulled my hands from my eyes, forcing me to meet her stare. “Whatever that thing was, it attacked Jezebel because that’s in its nature. It could have been any of us.”

My hands shook at the thought of any of them suffering. Spirits, this is why I didn’t want anyone to come with me on this trek. If anything happened to one of them—

My breath lodged in my throat, and I couldn’t answer Rina. Instead, I stared at the stars.

She folded her hand around my own. “I’m sorry for earlier.” My eyes snapped up to hers. “With the rum,” she clarified.

I exhaled. That argument felt like it had passed days ago; it seemed so small in comparison to what we’d just survived. “Truthfully, I’d forgotten about it.” The weakness came roaring back to me, and I once again wondered how I ended up here. “I was not expecting those words, though.”

She cracked a smile, white teeth bright against olive skin. “I mean them.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, returning her smile, the muscles in my cheeks loosening.

Tension lifted from her eyes. “Don’t misunderstand my apology, though. I’m sorry for how I broached it, but I am worried about you.”

“You need not be.” The lie fled easily from my lips.

“But I am.”

Our gazes locked, and we were evenly matched. Two storms of gritty determination and bold emotions, my twin force driving me to be my best.

“Rina,” I exhaled, conceding slightly to her.

“Nothing can happen to you, Ophelia.” She squeezed my hand. “I’ve lost too many. You’re the closest family I have left.” Santorina was a master at forcing me to face harsh truths, but for her to let down her own guard…for her to express this level of vulnerability meant something deeper than I could name. Guilt twisted through me, knowing I wouldn’t be around much longer.

“You have them.” I inclined my head toward our sleeping friends.

Rina smiled. “They’re family, too. But it’s different with you.” Because I’d been there when she was told her parents had died. The moment she’d officially thought herself alone in the world. And I’d held her together.

“What are you afraid of?” I asked, gently squeezing her hand in return, and she knew I didn’t mean the winged beast or the Undertaking.

“I am afraid of how many bottles I have emptied into your glass in recent months. I am afraid of the darkness I see lurking in your eyes until the first sip passes your lips each night. I am afraid of the fact that it is each night.”

Her dark eyes shone with such honesty that I felt I owed her the same. I filled my lungs with air and released it slowly. “When I drink…it relieves the pain. It comforts me through blurry oblivion, but also with distraction.”

Rina put her arm around me and hugged me to her. I surrendered into the embrace. “I know it makes you forget your grief,” she whispered, her cheek against my head. “But there are other options for comfort and distraction. Allow us to help.”

“That’s not my strength.”

“We all suffer weaknesses. You’re fierce in most other aspects.”

I rested my head on her shoulder, wrapping my arms around myself. My heart thudded slightly at her words. Maybe there were other methods to achieve the warmth I sought in the bottom of a bottle. Though I wanted nothing more than to douse tonight’s events in the blinding liquor, I did not want to lean on that crutch any longer, weaken my body when I needed to fight.

“We dump the canteen in the morning,” I said.

Rina nodded against my head.

We looked at the lightening sky, navy fading to pale violet as the stars slowly faded. All seven of the Angel constellations were still visible and the six gods with them. “Tell me about the constellations, again,” Rina murmured.

With the dawn air cushioning my voice and our three friends sleeping soundly behind us, I whispered the legends of warrior clans and mythical beings to my incredibly human friend.

*

In the morning, we poured out the liquor.

I watched the warm amber that had become my lifeline seep into the dark soil beneath a cypher tree.

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