Page 150 of Faeling
Crow? What’s happened? Are you—
It’s my fault.
Ravenna refused to move from the floor. She couldn’t.
She was aware of a handful of others coming and going.
Fenna the healer came to look at her arm. Ravenna was distantly aware of the pain as Fenna dabbed at and cleaned the punctures from Amaranthe’s claws.
She almost told the old orcess to leave them. She deserved the wounds. But her voice was gone.
Fenna would hardly look at her, although she felt the occasional press of the healer’s assessing gaze. Fenna asked her a few things, but Ravenna said nothing.
Night soon descended across the camp. Ravenna only knew because of the smell of the fires. Someone put a bowl of stew in front of her, but she didn’t eat.
Sometime in the night, Oberon ducked inside the tent.
His great body was awkward in the space, navigating the tent poles and low canvas ceiling. Folding his legs, he lay beside her, curling his neck around her back.
Crow, speak to me.
It’s my fault. I’m sorry.
It’s all right. We’ll be all right.
No. It’s my fault.
Mistakes are best learned from and then left in the past. We’ll get your man back.
She has him. It’s my fault.
Oberon’s warm breath wafted across her cheek, followed by his velveteen muzzle.We’ll get him back, Crow.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Ravenna didn’t move. Her tears didn’t stop.
She remained there, on the floor, clutching desperately at the threadbare bond inside her. She dared not grasp it too tightly for fear it would break, but so long as it lived, so too did Vallek.
It was her only hope, her only focus.
If he was alive, then she could make this right.
She’d let herself believe in his confidence and his vision for their future. She’d let herself be carried away by romantic gestures and delusions of happiness.
She’d let herself forget that, since childhood, she was marked for death. There was no other outcome for one who predicted the downfall of a Fae Queen. All who’d tried to stop it, to thwart her fate, had met horrible ends.
It was time Ravenna stop letting them try to save her. It was time she accept that her destiny was written in magic and blood. It couldn’t be denied.
She was destined to die, and she meant to take Amaranthe with her.
Dawn approached before Ravenna regained any feeling in her body. Her tears left salty tracks on her face, and her limbs had long since gone numb with inactivity.
Something happened outside the tent, but she couldn’t be bothered to care.
Not until Oberon began nudging her.Ravenna? Ravenna, you must come back. They need you.
No one needs me.
