The decisions he made had been wrong—choices he thought would help himself. He didn’t care about himself anymore. Brenik only wanted Bray to be happy, and if he lived a second longer, he would destroy anything good that could happen for her.
Brenik grabbed the portrait from the couch and ran to the kitchen. Despite the anxiousness he felt as he ripped open the silverware drawer, there was a contentment there, too. He pulled out the largest knife he could find while holding up the canvas to the light. Without any more hesitation, he didn’t just stab the portrait—he hacked at it with fury, with loathing, with hate, with despair, with emptiness, and with love for his sister—who was always his protector. Who he now wanted to protect. Everything about himself he wantedgone.
“What are youdoing?” A shrill voice he thought was Bray’s pulsed in his ears. But he felt dizzy and everything was moving in slow motion. His knees buckled beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor.
A harsh pain charged through him, and his body stiffened. He rolled to his back as a heart-shaped face hovered over his, similar to his own. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispered, and his voice cracked on the last word as tears welled in his eyes. He could feel all the cuts he inflicted on the portrait appearing on him, and he wished he didn’t deserve it.
“We’ll fix this. I promise we’ll fix it,” she said in a hushed tone, her hands trying to cover up all the cuts pouring out blood. There wasno wayto fix all the gashes. He could feel them peeling apart, some tearing open all the way to the bone.
“Take him, Bray. Take Luca to the Stone.” Brenik pushed the words out.
“And you.” She tried to lift his upper body but couldn’t.
“No. Just him.” He could feel his body already drifting away, coming to the end of his story.
Bray stroked her thumb across his forehead. “I love you, little brother.”
“I know.” He loved her, too, because she was the better half of him. The last thing he heard was Brayora’s mad screams, the last thing he felt was her slapping his chest to live, the last thing he saw was her sorrowful face, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be happy—even if he had already destroyed everything.
24
Bray
Bray hovered over Brenik’s still form—his body was covered in bloody gashes as if someone had torn at his skin. She wanted to sew the pieces shut, but it was too late. His body began to disintegrate into dirt, the same way Rana’s had. Bray let the dirt crumble from her hands and stared up at the painting on the countertop, which had turned into soil, too.
Her body shook as she looked over her shoulder at Wes. He still held Luca’s lifeless body in his lap, tears slipping down to his little brother’s small face.
What Brenik had said about the Stone of Desire suddenly clicked in her head. “We have to leave now,” she said hurriedly. “You will have to drive through the forest quickly.”
Tearing his eyes from Luca, Wes asked, “What do you mean?”
“No questions. I’ll hold Luca and give you directions from the backseat, but you need to get us to the Stone of Desire before it’s too late.” Bray didn’t know if anything could be done, but if it could… She didn’t want to hope too much.
Wes still looked as if he wanted to ask questions, but he had Luca in his arms and was already headed for the door. Bray gazed one more time with regret at what was left of Brenik, and for the first time, she left him behind.
Bray got into the backseat of the car, and Wes tenderly lay Luca’s body in her arms. Blood seeped from the wound, and she wished she could close it somehow—like she wished she could have done for Brenik.
“This is all my fault,” Wes cried as he hurled himself into the car.
Bray didn’t say anything. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, just a series of bad choices, and an accident that wasn’t meant to have happened.
Holding Luca pressed tightly against her chest, Bray rambled off directions at Wes. He drove as fast as he could through the trees, but not as quickly as they wanted.
“Stop!” Bray yelled, and Wes slammed on the brakes. She could see the Stone’s white shape protruding past the bushes.
Throwing open the door, Bray started to lift Luca, but Wes gently took him in his arms.
Bray knew Wes was confused about what she was trying to do, but there wasn’t much time, if any at all. She ran for the Stone and placed her hand against the alabaster, rose-shaped top. “Please. Please, answer me this time.” There wasn’t a response. “Wes, hurry and put your hand on the stone.”
Without a word, Wes pressed his hand against the rock and continued to hold Luca in his arms. Bray shook her head frantically at Wes to ask the Stone what he desired, and so he did. “I—I need you to save Luca. He means everything in this world to me, and I can’t live without him. Please don’t let him die—please bring him back to me.” His voice sounded weak and drained, barely making it through his words.
The breaths in Bray’s chest were coming out shakily, and she couldn’t find enough air as they waited for something to happen. But nothing did.
“Please! You’re the cause of this for what you did to Brenik. So please, make this right!” She slapped at the Stone, full of exasperation.
Under her feet, the chunks of dirt began to shake, causing her to stumble backward. With Luca still firmly pressed against his chest, Wes stepped back beside her with fear in his eyes.
Out of the ground, the rest of the pale rock pulled itself up to incredible height, long arms drawing forward.