Page 67 of A Song of Air
What must she have felt like to know that the sister she’d prayed for had given up her own prayers?
“Does the truth make you feel better?” Malika asked quietly.
Iona shook her head. “No. But I stand by what I said.Stophealing people. Especially people who don’t deserve it.”
“And how do you decide who deserves my help or not?”
Iona scoffed. “That human Everette definitely doesn’t.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“He hates us. Refuses to help us.”
“So I should only help those who worship the ground the Resistance walks on? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, but at least if you’re going to hurt yourself to save somebody, save somebody not so insufferable.”
Malika’s own canines snapped. Her temper finally flared, and her voice rose to a shout. “For the last time, you cannot tell me what to do. I know how to use my magic. I know my own limits way more than you ever could. I don’t need your help. I don’t even need you to care, because at the end of the day, I’ve lived most of my life without you. I don’t need you.”
Iona staggered backwards as the force of her sister’s words landed. Like a blow to the chest, Iona gripped her shirt front and sucked in a ragged breath. She stared at her sister, betrayal crossing over her features.
Julius could physically see the heartbreak through the window of her dark eyes. The hope she’d harbored shattered right before him, breaking into thousands of pieces, and he could do nothing but watch it crumble, unable to put them back together again.
He started forward, but Iona was already moving, whirling away from her sister and stalking away into the darkening night, disappearing into the trees.
Julius needed to go after her. He had to.
He marched forward, stopping only a few feet away from Malika. When he turned, it was to pierce her with a glare that could crumble down buildings.
Malika was staring at the spot where Iona disappeared from. It took a single moment for the anger to diminish, as the impact of the words she’d said finally registered. Malika’s palms went to her lips, smothering the gasp of surprise at the words she’d spat angrily. Slowly, her eyes flicked to Julius.
“I didn’t mean it,” she said, tears slipping from her eyes. “She has to know I didn’t mean it.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Julius growled. A part of him wished he could reach over and shake her, but he wouldn’t put his hands on Malika. No matter what she’d said to his mate, Iona would never forgive the transgression. “You said it anyway, and she will believe it to be true.”
“She has to know—”
“She doesn’t know shit,” Julius interrupted. He could feel his anger rising, the kind that had nothing to do with the price of his own magic. “She doesn’t know you. Not anymore.” When Malika’s tears kept falling, Julius willed his anger to be leashed. “Look,” he said. “I understand. You are sisters, but you’re strangers. I need you to know that Iona risked everything she had to try and find you. When she thought you were dead—” He broke off, remembering the moment so vividly. Remembering the agonized cries as she took the dagger to her coils, sawing through them in uneven, shaking strokes until there was hardly anything left.
He’d never heard such harrowing sounds before.
He pierced Malika with another glare. “You have been given a gift,” he said softly. “A gift that Mana does not grant to many. You’ve already lost so many years; don’t waste any more time arguing over something trivial.”
He turned away from her then and took a step before he threw a glance over his shoulder.
“And if you ever say anything to disrespect or make my mate cry again, I will ensure you live to fucking regret it.”
Iona pressed her forehead against the tree, digging her skin into the rough bark until she felt she would bleed. The tears froze on her cheeks as soon as she shed them, creating an icy trail that was as cold and as desolate as the feeling in her chest.
I don’t need you.
Those words echoed over and over, like arrows piercing through her heart, one after another. She didn’t want to believe them, but she did. She didn’t want to accept it, but what other choice did she have? Her sister was a stranger to her now.
Yes, there was still a remnant of the Fae she’d known and loved, deep down somewhere. But the truth was, it didn’t matter. Because life had happened. The war had happened. Neither one of them was the same person they’d been years ago.
She knew that.
Yet Iona felt like she was burying her sister all over again. She really had died that day, and someone new had been born.
