Page 112 of By the Orchid and the Owl
Yes. I could see that answer splayed all over his face. He trulywasa spy. For the people I’d once been so terrified of, faceless men and women at sea. No—facelessfaeries.
God, I’d been so stupid.
Coen wavered on the spot. For a moment, I thought he was about to spill it all.
Then he snapped his mouth shut, and his face hardened again.
“I can’t tell you anything more than this: you, Rayna, weren’t just born in the middle of a war. You were born in the enemy’s territory. In the enemy’scage.”
I understood the sentiment. Dionysian and her Good Council elites already had me shackled; they didn’t need much of an excuse to snatch me away from the Institute and haul me to their torture chamber on the mountain, and every piece of information I gathered in here just gave them one more reason to do so. Coen wanted me to stop asking questions, to stop attracting potential attention, but… what if the only way I could protect myself in the long run was by uncovering those answers?
I chewed on my lip, frowning.
“I understand you can’t tell me everything, that there’s sensitive information you might have found out as a spy that… that I don’t get to know. But when it involvesme, when you’re keeping secrets aboutme, then…” Something inside me crumpled. “Then how can I trust you?”
Coen stuck a finger beneath my chin, near the throbbing pulse of my throat.
“I never said you could trust all of me, little hurricane.”
The sultry tone of his voice nearly had my knees aching to collapse, especially as I remembered what had happened during our first time in this cave.
But then he was lifting my chin with that single finger and saying, in a sadder, more serious tone, “You can’t pick and choose which pieces of my magic to use, Rayna. You can’t ask me to alleviate your stress for a test, but expect me to give it back whenever you please.”
Shit. He was right. I’d taken advantage of his power, tried to use a slice of it for my own benefit. But I couldn’t do so any longer. I could accept Coen as he was, edged with lies and deceit and half-truths… or I could let him go.
Back to the pirates. The faerie fleet. Back to the ships he’d come from.
I knew what I had to do before my heart could even falter.
If Coen had a way out of this cage after his Final Test, there was no wayIwas going to be the thing that held him back. I wouldn’t let him be caged with me. But he would never leave me unless I pushed him away.
“Then I guess I won’t be needing any part of your magic from here on out.” I forced out a shrug, hating, hating, hating myself when Coen withdrew his finger from beneath my chin as if I’d shocked him. “I guess we should both focus on what’s most important to us and move on.”
“Rayna… please don’t.” Each of his syllables cracked.
By the orchid and the owl, I was really breaking up with this man. As if it didn’t splinter every bone in my body. As if it didn’t bruise my heart and twist my lungs and send panic flaring to the tips of my fingertips and toes and…
“I don’t want you to stick around after your Final Test,” I said, enunciating each word.I don’t want to hinder youslipped through my inner thoughts, but Coen wasn’t in my mind to pick out those words. He was far, far away, sinking into his own mind, blinking rapidly down at me. I said my next words carefully. “I don’t want someone I can’t fully trust.”
“Fine,” Coen said, his shock vanishing as quickly as it had sprung upon him. Nothing but cold nonchalance masked his face now, tightening every muscle there.
“Fine,” I said back, and was surprised to hear the nonchalance still coating my own throat.
Liar. I was such a goddamned liar. I wanted him whether I could trust him or not, but it would be safer for him if he left, and healthier for me if I wasn’t constantly suspicious of my own partner.
I turned and marched back up the tunnel without saying another word.
Away from the dazzling glimmer of stones and into the Throat that swallowed me whole.
CHAPTER
42
Weeks and weeks of that darkness dragged by.
The worst was the waiting. Waiting for my memory to disappear. For that knowledge of my faerie blood to slink back into my subconscious. Surely, Coen was going to lock it away again?
But as each day passed, I woke up every morning still knowing who I was. Still knowingwhatI was. Coen, it seemed, hadn’t touched my mind since our breakup in the gilded cave.
