Page 120 of By the Moonbeam and the Mist
A slight pause that had me shivering, waiting.If the queen never has a child, you could very well be Sorronia’s preferred heir, Rayna.
Yeah, an heir who would have to fight for a throne I don’t want and never asked for in a country I’ve never seen. And even if I won, which I wouldn’t, and you know it, any female willing to challenge me could usurp and kill me at any time. No, thank you.
Another pause, this time deeper and more thoughtful. I wrapped my blanket tighter around me.You wouldn’t have to fight Her Majesty if she passed you the crown in a symbolic duel,he said finally.
There it was again. A feral, possessive snapping of teeth deep inside my chest at the way he said Majesty, though I immediately stuffed it back down before it had a chance to really bite.
And do you think the queen would? Just pass me the crown?
Not that I would ever even accept it. While a part of me did yearn to see Sorronia and the rest of the world beyond this dome, the island of Eshol… it was my home, and I had a feeling I would always drift back to it if I ever did end up sailing away. But Steeler’s silence inside my head was enough to confirm the assumption that had been bubbling in my periphery since Barberro’s declaration: the Sorronian queen might not want my head on a dinner plate, but she’d never pass me the crown. Both Steeler and I knew it, felt it, even though there was no real proof.
That’s what I thought, I told him.So don’t call me princess.Little hurricane is fine.
I thought he would try to argue further, but his tone just turned slightly gloating instead.Oh, so you admit it?
What?
That you’re a hurricane. In other words, absolutely devastating.
My heart fluttered again.I didn’t realize I’d wrecked you so much for you to think of me like that.
He chuckled.I mean, you punched me in the face once.
I nearly gasped aloud, but managed to bury my face in my pillow.I did not.
Oh yeah. Gave me a black eye and everything, but don’t worry. It was a sexy punch.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing for the hundredth time that I could remember… but every time Garvis and I tried to find those missing pieces, the mist would dissolve right as Steeler was about to come into the picture. As if my brain itself had been eating away at any moment that involved him.
Show me, I breathed out on a mental whisper before I could think better of it.Show me from your side.
I was almost positive he wouldn’t. The only reason he’d herded me toward those other memories in his mind was to give me the truth I needed, not to let me in to the private things tucked away in the deepest parts of him.
To my surprise, a rough, calloused hand grabbed mine inside my mind as if he’d been there all along—which he had.
Come here, then, little hurricane.
He dragged me toward his mind, catching me when I nearly fell into a heap in front of his colossal moonstone gate. My nerves lit up as I remembered what my mouth had done in this exact spot… but this time, Steeler led me right through his gate without blocking my way.
Hand in hand, he led me down spirals, spin-offs, and side corridors of moonstone that towered over us until we came to a halt in front of a particularly vibrant pocket of mist, the Cosmos twinkling and swirling high, high above.
My past self was leaning against a stalk of black bamboo in this memory, closing my eyes and inhaling the scent of it. Everything was still and peaceful—until a branch creaked.Leaves swished. I turned just in time to find Steeler emerging from the depths of the grove without a single speck of wicked humor in his eyes. No, in this memory, his face only held depthless sorrow.
The first time he’d snuck back to campus to give me a pill, I realized with a jolt. One week after he’d had Garvis bury my memories. One week after he’d left me.
For a moment, my past self looked like I was about to tremble backward. The Steeler in this memory raised his palms and opened his mouth, evidently thinking I’d view him as a random stranger in the jungle, an obscure threat rather than a target I’d been ordered to capture.
Then I shrieked, rushed forward, and pummeled him right across the nose. And yeah, I kind ofdidlook good doing it, even though my present self cringed at thecrackof cartilage that followed.
“You,” I shouted, punching him again, “gross,” –punch— “monster. I’m going to—”
Steeler recovered from his shock in time to hold me away at arm’s length before I could land a fourth one, scouring my mind for information about what the hell was going on. It wasn’t until several seconds had passed and I’d sent a humming command to the bamboo that his eyes flared open and he muttered, “By the moonbeam and the fucking mist. I forgot about that.”
The memory. The fabricated one that Lexington had given me—he could see the hatred it had given me spewing from my eyes as the nearest stalk of bamboo began to twine around his throat.
Steeler flashed out of existence before it could choke him and appeared behind me. I screamed, whirled, raised my fists again, and—
“Sleep,” Steeler commanded shakily.
