Page 107 of Caging Darling

My heart ignites.

Astor opens his eyes, his face going hard. “If I go in there, you have to promise me you’ll stay out here. Hidden,” he says.

I open my mouth to agree, but suddenly the words get caught in my throat. Adrenaline and fear of danger for the muses propelled me to a spontaneous bravery, but I’d thought I’d begoing back in for them. Not sending Astor in, waiting in the alley on the possibility he wouldn’t return to me.

My throat bobs, and panic sets in on my chest. I grip it with my fingers, like I feel like if I don’t, my ribs will pop out of place.

“No, I have to go in with you.”

“You’ll just slow me down. Distract me.”

I shake my head. I can’t…I can’t wait out here.

Astor places his palm on the side of my face, the blunt edge of his hook on my other cheek. “Look at me, Darling.”

I do.

“I’ll come back for you.”

Tears sting at my eyes as the panic crawls up my esophagus and reaches my throat. “Promise?”

Astor’s eyes soften with something that looks like grief. “Promise.”

Astor turns and is gone. I make my way into the alley, hiding behind a pile of trash that stinks of rotten vegetables.

I have to press my back against the wall and slide down it to support my weight, my legs are shaking so. Shivers lance through me, running like frigid lightning bolts through my bones.

When I reach the ground, I hug my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth.

He’s coming. He’s coming for me. He’ll come back for me.

As the wind picks up, carrying into my ears the counterargument, I cover my ears with my hands and rock harder. He’s coming. Astor’s coming back for me.

He promised he’d come.

My heart pounds against my chest until it’s bruised and bloodied, like knuckles against a brick wall.

“Please come back,” I whisper into the darkness, my tears rivers of ice down my cheek.

I have no way of keeping the time, but when I feel as if half an hour has passed, my stomach churns, and I have to fight to keep down the contents instead of releasing them into the trash heap. Astor and I could be back in the Nomad’s carriage, on our way to the Gathers now. We could be close to safety, but no. I had to tell him to go back in and get those girls I’d only known for a few minutes.

Astor’s dead. Astor’s dead, and it’s my fault.

Anger races through my heart, directed at the muses for not escaping earlier. For sitting around and waiting for their fate to come upon them instead of fighting for themselves earlier. Then they wouldn’t have been there to save.

No. No. I breathe, reminding myself none of this is their fault.

None of this is my fault.

None of this is my fault.

I repeat it to myself like an anthem.

I repeat it to myself until I lull myself to sleep.

“Darling,you didn’t just fall asleep in the middle of a mission in which we’re soon to be pursued by all the bounty hunters west of the Shifting Sea, did you?”

I snap my neck up, yanked out of my sleep by his voice.

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