I wince at him, trying and failing at an apologetic smile.
I’ve been flying off script since last night. Dinah relayed Blaise’s message, and ever since, I’ve been scrambling for purchase on a wall that has no footholds, desperately grasping for a solution to save not just myself, but everyone I love.
I spent the last few hours grappling over, not Blaise’s message that they were coming to rescue me, but why she’d deemed it important to tell me.
There were multiple things that bothered me about it. Mostly that Blaise knows better than anyone how to hide important information. And that the more people who know the truth, the more difficult it is to keep hidden.
I couldn’t quite believe Blaise had been so concerned over my mental wellbeing that she didn’t think I could wait a few more hours to know I was being rescued.
So why?
Why inform me they were on their way? Why tell me the plan to get Kiran close enough to Az to alter his feelings?
Unless that was never Blaise’s plan to begin with.
Blaise, who had spent plenty of time with Az. Enough to know that Az was already aware of Kiran’s power—information he’d gotten from Gwenyth. Blaise, who knew Az would already be expecting Kiran to use it against him.
Blaise, who knew the only thing that might make it through the callus that has crusted over Az’s heart.
Of course, I hadn’t expected Az to bring his healer to me last night. Hadn’t expected the slimy faerie to take my face in his hands, strip me of my scars with a trace of his oily fingers.
From a glance in the mirror the healer handed me, it seems my eye is back. I still can’t see out of it, so consider me unimpressed.
That ordeal had thrown me off, but I’d had plenty of time to think. To figure out what Blaise wanted from me.
Plenty of time to realize that Az always wins. No matter what, he’s always been so far ahead of me, I couldn’t even glimpse him in the distance. And Kiran was too recognizable. He would be caught no matter what.
So I’d decided if he was going to be caught, it would be on my terms.
I’d told Az of my friends’ plans to sneak into the palace. It had crushed me to do it, but I’d glimpsed it—the glimmer of trust in his eyes.
I’d known then that I had him.
I’d staged this, hoping for an opportunity to beg Kiran to take away my feelings for him.
Because if this is going to work, I don’t just need Az to want me.
He has to need me, has to feel my love graze his fingertips.
Right before he loses me.
Az’s gaze dips to the dagger, a scoff escaping his mouth. “You’re not going to use that.”
“You don’t think so? Why is it you’ve had all the windows in the palace barred? What exactly is it you’re so afraid I’ll do?”
Az turns to Kiran. “Clearly, this male still has a hold on you. Tell me, Kiran, are you okay with Asha dying on your behalf? Is this what you intended by manipulating her feelings all this time? Though, I suppose perhaps it’s useful to have a wife willing to die for you. You don’t care, do you?”
“Az, please,” I whisper, the point of the blade pressing into my sternum. “Don’t make me do this.”
“I’m not making you do anything, Asha. Just put the blade down. I can promise you, as soon as Kiran has been dealt with, you’ll feel differently. I thought you were getting better, but clearly he got his hands on you at some point…” Az pales, and his attention snaps between us, as if it had just dawned on him what would have occurred if such an opportunity had presented itself.
The jealousy in his eyes rages as he kicks Kiran in the mouth. Teeth crack. Blood stains Kiran’s lips, but he doesn’t retaliate. He just stares up at Az, almost in disbelief.
“You never deserved her,” Kiran says, and Az kicks him again.
I feel each kick as if they’re to my own mouth.
“Kiran, stop,” I whisper, but Kiran doesn’t stop.
“I didn’t either, to be frank. But at least I wasn’t foolish enough to miss my chance.”
This time when Az kicks, there’s a snap that sounds sickeningly like Kiran’s jaw.
The blade trembles in my hand. I move it to the side, feeling the notch between two of my ribs.
You can do this, you can do this, I whisper to myself.
Molten fire burns in Kiran’s eyes, horror and desperation as I inch the blade toward my skin.
A tear slices through the fabric of my gown.
Tears stream down Kiran’s eyes. They remind me what Kiran told me ages ago, while we talked in the palace gardens. That when he was a boy, his tears would boil, leaving burn marks on his cheeks.
But there’s no Flame left in him. Nothing to hurt him any longer, other than me.
“I love you,” I whisper.
And then I raise the dagger, preparing to plunge it into my chest.
