“There’s not a way to make this thing soundproof, is there?” I ask no one in particular.

Piper shoots me a concerned glance, but she shakes her head all the same. She’s used to the parasite talking to me at this point, though I think it makes her uncomfortable.

That’s fair.

I could help you. You and me, we could be whoever you want to be. I could give you a new body, one not cursed like yours is.

I’m not entirely sure that’s true, and as much as I’d love to walk in the sun again, to be free of this cursed body, I’m not an idiot.

Well, I suppose I’m kind of an idiot.

But I’m not that much of an idiot.

“Shouldn’t you be afraid of what I might do to you, if I absorbed you?” I ask it, ignoring the way Piper wriggles in her cot, like she’s trying not to listen in but can’t help that she has excellent hearing.

You’re right. Your powers now might very well allow you to absorb me. Makes it seem like a good deal on your end. Just think of what you could use me for. A new body. Maybe even one Nox isn’t cursed not to love. Who knows? Besides, don’t you still want children one day? A new body could be useful for that as well.

No. I snap the door shut on my mind, the sliver of hope the parasite has managed to wedge between the window and its sill.

My chest aches.

It’s not that I haven’t considered that I won’t be able to have children in this body.

It’s that this seems to be the only reasonable conclusion, and the moment I realized that, I figured there was no use thinking about it any longer.

Since when has pretending gotten me anywhere useful, anyway?

Besides, I don’t deserve that luxury. Not after I took Erida, the little girl from the desecrated village, from her mother’s arms, still clinging to her child in death.

I might not have burned down Erida’s cottage, but I opened the Rip, freeing the monsters that demolished her village, crushing the girl under the weight of her childhood home.

So no. I don’t let myself think about not being able to have children.

Not when I’ve bereaved other parents of theirs.

Still, I know the parasite is less than convinced that my vampirism will allow me the power to absorb it like the fae can absorb the old magic. If it had any question in its mind, it wouldn’t be offering, now would it?

But I allow my mind to wander—just for a moment—letting it stretch its legs out from under the tight leash I’ve kept wound around it.

One last time, I let my mind slip into a world of pretend. A reality I’m aware is out of my grasp. One where the parasite lets me choose my body, and instead of turning me into Cinderella, it just lets me be me. But the me before I died. Or possibly even the me I never was, but would have been if it hadn’t been for Clarissa and Derek and Abra and Madame LeFleur.

In this world, the one that doesn’t exist, I’m the type of woman Nox is capable of loving. The type of woman he doesn’t leave.

I know this world can’t be real, because in this world, he’s not a vampire either, and the two of us have children, just like the dream I used to have…

It’s not real, and I know it’s not real, but the image is so intoxicating, I can’t help but drink.

In the morning, I’ll deal with the hangover of it all, the emptiness in my chest after coveting a life that’s not meant for me.

But for now, I let myself dream.

And when Piper’s breathing becomes shallow and even, her body succumbing to sleep, I keep dreaming.

Even as I pack my bags and whisper a goodbye into the night.

I tug on the bond in my heart, but as always, there’s no one on the other end.

I send the goodbye anyway.

CHAPTER 86

ZORA

As Farin and I make our way across the beach, I keep several paces ahead of him, just out of sight. I figure he’ll assume I’m trying to avoid interacting with him after our conversation last night about his probable plans to murder me.

Let him think what he wants, as long as it distracts him from the truth.

The island has the audacity to be warm today, like it’s mocking me about the chill it blew into the cave last night, like the Fates are reminding me I’m as moldable as a sail in the wind in their hands.

Like all they have to do is make me shiver a bit, and they can send me straight into Farin’s arms, just for their amusement.

It’s growing more and more difficult not to think about how it felt that frigid night, to be tucked into his chest, to feel the strange mingling of danger and safety renewed with each step I take.

But an hour into our traipse across the sand, I stumble across something that wipes all such notions from my mind.

A body.

Worse, one that’s alive.

The man is human, his breathing shallow.

Another victim of the shipwreck, perhaps? Or has another ship fallen into the snare of the rocks circumventing this island?

I fall to my knees and check his neck for a pulse. I don’t know why. Of course he has a pulse; he’s breathing.

Get a hold on yourself, I whisper to my shaking limbs.

My fingers linger at the man’s neck, when they should be climbing to his face. All it would take would be placing my palm over his mouth and nose, and then…

“Do you have a family?” I find myself asking the man.

His black, sand-crusted eyelashes flutter. “Sara,” he croaks. “My wife. Told me if I didn’t come back, she’d leave me…” He chuckles, though it seems as though he’s masking a sob.

My stomach wriggles.

“Children?” I ask.

He shakes his head, closing his eyes and swallowing.