“Then what are these?” He snatches up my arm and drags me to his chest. Uncaring of my wounds, he smears blood across my skin as he traces his thumb along my markings.
“I was born with them.” Just as he was born with blue eyes and black hair, I was born with fangs and markings covering my entire body. If I could rid myself of them I would. I never asked to be who I am, what I am, but he should understand that better than anyone.
“As a Gods Cursed would be,” he retorts, his face so close to mine I can see every spark of glacial fire in his eyes.
Temper beginning to rise at his hypocrisy, I tear my arm free and point at my cheek. “Do you see Desdemona’s rune? No, you don't, because I'm not a Gods Cursed.”
His gaze strays to my cheek, a knot forming between his brow as he inspects it. Seeing his hesitation, my body begins to loosen in relief. But then his gaze hardens once again.
“Maybe not, but this is a curse.” He grabs me roughly by the chin, jerking it up. “These lips. Your eyes. That face.” Pain radiates through my face as he digs his thumb into the hollow of my cheek, hissing, “My curse.”
I grab his wrist and try to pull free, but he pinches tighter, refusing to release me. “What are you going to do now?” I challenge, my voice sounding bolder than I feel. “Kill me?”
“I should.”
I rear back in shock, pain, Darius following me with his iron grip.
He means it. I see the truth in his eyes. So much hate and scorn, his pupils blown wide in a maddened rage.
But he can’t believe this of me. Not after everything we shared. Not after what we’ve come to mean to each other. There has to be more behind that hate.
Bracing myself, I feel for the bond, searching for a small hope, a sliver of something that'll let me know I can't possibly be tossed aside so easily. And a small sob escapes me when I find that the once vibrant link that ties us together is now devoid of all life and blackened to a parched husk.
A dagger suddenly appears on the ball of his throat.
“Let her go,” Amara says from where she’s slipped partially between us, her voice cold and unyielding. He growls but remains unmoving, glaring down at me. “Let. Her. Go.” Amara digs the blade deeper and punctures his skin, blood beading beneath the point to slowly drip down the column of his throat.
Darius growls, the dagger vibrating from the sound as he bears down on the blade, drawing more blood to flow down his neck in a steady stream. He grips my jaw harder and I bite back a wince, feeling the bruises already begin to form, before he gives me one last snarl and releases me, tracking my every move as he walks backward.
“Silas, escort them to the city gates.”
A large fae with red hair moves toward me and reaches for my arm. When I feel his skin graze mine, rage and pain swell within me and I round on him, fangs snapping out with a hiss. “Don’t. Touch. Me,” I seethe.
He gasps and jolts backwards, a move echoed by all the other survivors.
“There she is,” Darius says. I whip my glowing gaze to him and see the same face that watched me with adoration only hours ago, now watching me with a face contorted in disgust.
Griffin moves to Darius’ side, drawing his attention to him. “You can’t send them out there. It’s too dangerous.”
Darius jabs a finger in my direction. “I don’t want that thing in my city any longer.”
That thing. I’m a thing now. Not a lover, not a friend, not even a person. Just another cursed beast. Tears burn at the back of my eyes and I swallow back the cry that wants to escape.
“She saved us,” Griffin says calmly, unflinching from Darius’ wrath. “They all did.”
Darius glances back at us, coldly passing his gaze over me and my companions. I know what he sees. My glowing eyes and fangs. Amara’s single starlight jewel. Zander’s illuminated veins. Tristan’s strange markings. All of us are so different from them, so foreign. A dangerous unknown.
He curls his lip in contempt and says gruffly, “Be gone by dawn.” Then he turns his back on me, calling out to his guards as he moves deeper into the human district.
Jaw aching from his punishing grip, I watch Darius with ragged breaths, reliving every moment of this horrid night. Each hateful word he spoke to me slashes at my heart, drenching my soul in blood and anguish. Unable to bear it any longer, I turn to leave, but find the red-haired fae blocking my path.
“Glowing eyes.” He sucks in a breath. “I know you.”
Tiger shifter.
“You don’t,” I reply as I brush past him, trying to hold back the tears as I pass the Gods Garden, clamping down on the sobs in my throat when I leave the market district. But as I near the inn, my vision becomes blurry and the tears begin to spill over.
“Lena, wait!” Amara calls out.
Pausing on the porch steps, I glance back at a solemn-faced Amara, with Zander and Tristan standing at her back.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I wipe away my tears. “I should've known better." Shaking my head with a watery chuckle, I add, “The cursed are forever damned.”
Anger flashes in her eyes. “You are not cursed; you’re blessed. Any being with two eyes and a heart would know that.”
“Darius has a heart.” Biting my lip, my voice cracks. “It's just not meant for me."
“Lena…” Her face falls and she ascends the steps, but pauses mid-step and grits her teeth when I stop her with a raised palm. “I’ll kill him for this.”
“No,” I reply harshly, recalling Zenith’s prophetic words. “He is not to be harmed.”
Amara’s lips flatten, but she nods in acquiescence.
Once I’m certain Amara will heed my command, I shut my eyes and drop my head back on the beam at the top of the steps, slowly stitching myself together as I create another scar in addition to the sewn gashes already strewn across my patchwork heart.
With an audible sniff, I open my eyes and push off the beam. “Zander, Tristan, I want you two to dispatch any remaining Soulless in the city. Amara and I will pack up and salvage what we can.”
