Page 89 of Of Flame and Fury

The monitor beeped to life again, fluttering with her pulse. He’d managed to take a feeling she’d felt—for so many years—and mold it into the perfect words. She’d felt the same way for as long as she could remember. Her father’s death, her mother’s fleeting visits and postcards with no return address, all of it had allowed her to heave more certainty upon herself, protecting her from the world. From warm, wanting, gorgeous creatures like Coup.

As much as Kel wanted to relent, to kiss him and tell him thattheycould be infinite—it would be selfish to take this fragile moment and mold it into what she wanted.

She rubbed her fingers against the back of his hand. “But that’s the point, isn’t it? Life is finite.Thisis finite. But neither would exist without pain, so you shouldn’t bother trying to avoid any of it.”

The corners of Coup’s lips lifted. Seeing that smile was like sun through rain.

Coup removed her hand from his and kissed her palm. “I think I want to. Talk to someone, I mean. I want to be better. The Howlers deserve better.”

“We deserve you,” Kel whispered.

She hoped he heard the truth beneath the words. What she was still too cowardly to say.

She didn’t know ifshedeserved Warren Coupers—but she wanted to. She wantedhim. Every teasing grin—for the cameras or for her—and every painful truth. She wanted all of him.

She had wanted him for longer than she cared to admit.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Kel gripped the parallel bars tighter. The wood wobbled as she struggled forward.

Maybe the bars were broken. There had to besomereason why she couldn’t do this.

She growled through clenched teeth. “This is impossible.”

“Only if you believe it is,” said the man in green scrubs—Arren. If she could manage to pry up a splinter from the wooden bars, she might jam it into Arren’s throat. Anything to stop those infuriatingly positive, cheerful vocal cords from preaching more bullshit.

“I know you can do this! Just a little farther, and then you’re done for tonight,” Arren added. His nasal voice had haunted her recent nightmares.

Kel was glad for Cristo’s medications and machines that had sped up her recovery. She’d been able to spend the last week laughing with friends and carving the Howlers’ emblem into their uniforms with her new kit. But right now, she wished for the pain of her old injuries. She would havepreferredthat pain.

Arren stood behind Kel, unmoving, holding the ends of a large, elastic band. The rest of the band was wrapped around Kel’s torso, pulling against her as she tried to walk forward. Pain lanced up and down her hip every time she sucked in a breath, despite the knife wound having mostly healed over.

“Ibelievein you, Kelyn,” he said, urging her forward. “But you need to believe in yourself, too!”

Kel bit her tongue.This is it, she thought.I died when I fell, and this is hell.

Dira, standing to Kel’s right, shifted until she stood in front of Kel, just beyond the wooden bars.

“Come on, Kel,” Dira taunted. “I’ve seen you move faster when you’re cleaning Savita’s shit. This is pathetic.”

“Right now, I’d give anything to be cleaning Sav’s shit,” Kel mumbled. She managed another step forward.

After tomorrow morning’s assessment, she’d be allowed out of the hospital wing. Her team—all crowded around her—had promised her that Sav was safe. But nothing would ease the tension squeezing Kel’s lungs other than seeing Sav herself.

Since waking in the hospital, every thought of Sav was drowned beneath flashes of the forest. Her stomach would lift and she’d remember the prickling, half-conscious realization that Sav wasn’t going to save her. It made her breath catch, every time. But if she could justseeher phoenix, she knew everything would right itself.

Even Coup had refused to help Kel sneak out of the hospital at night. They were all traitors.

She managed one more step. Another.

“Dira’s right,” Coup said, folding his arms. “I’ve seen newborn phoenixes wobble around faster than you.”

The four Howlers had come to see her progress; Bekn in anarmchair, Dira ahead, Coup to her right, and Rahn rifling through a nearby crate of rehab equipment.

When she’d seen the four of them lined up at the door, she’d wanted to cry. Now, she wanted to throw Dira and Coup from the room.

Bekn stood and rubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t tell if you two are actually trying to help her, but if you are, stop it.”

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