“Are you ready to go?”
I glance back at Fin and nod. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
* * *
The momentmy feet touch the ground, I march off in search of Ember. Leaving her this morning had been one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make, but the Rebellion still needs me. Even if I wish I could remain at her side for all hours of every day.
The tent is just ahead, and I’m pushing through it when the sound of intoxicating feminine laughter fills my ears. I drink it in, obsessing over the sound until a woman behind me clears her throat.
Bea arches a brow and grins at me.
“Bea,” I greet.
“Going in?” She gestures toward the door, a tray of fruit in her other hand.
“Oh, yes. I am.” I reach out and shove the flap to the side so she can enter. Dozens of young voices begin chattering all at once as I emerge inside. Dressed in soft green, Ember sits on the ground surrounded by children. At least a dozen of them, ranging in age from around four to ten, all hold up hands for the tray Bea sets down in the center.
“Easy, guys, there’s plenty for everyone,” Ember says with a laugh.
I’m awestruck seeing her there.
But it dissipates and anger unfurls in my belly. Anger at the unfairness that is seeing her seated with children around her. Had Ember wanted kids? A family? Isn’t that what she’d once told me?
“Rafferty?” Ember’s voice pulls me back to the present. Copper eyes full of concern, she watches me.
“Come, children. Allow these two some privacy.” Bea holds out her hands and ushers the children along. Laughing, they rush past us, some stopping to give Ember a hug before pushing through the tent.
“Can you help me?” Her smile haunted, she waits for me to respond.
“Of course.” Dark energy poisons my thoughts, turning my anger to hatred—for myself. For all that I lack. Even if she wasn’t dying—there is no future for us, is there? No future where she gets all she wants—all she deserves.
“What is it?” she questions as I reach down and lift her then deposit her on the bed. I don’t answer her, focusing instead on trying to curb my irritation as I cover her legs up with blankets. Then, I take a deep, steadying breath as I sit on the edge of the bed.
“What were they doing in here?”
“Visiting. Their parents were part of some meeting,” she explains as she reaches to a tray at her bedside and pops a grape into her mouth. The sight of it disappearing between her lips undoes me, and I groan. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“Why. Must. You. Torture. Me.” I grind the words out, barely managing to keep my lust at bay. The darkness in me surges up, showing me images of all the ways it wants me to take Ember. Of all the ways I could make it pleasurable—
“Torture you? I don’t understand, I—was it not okay that they were in here?”
Afraid to speak, I shake my head.
Moments pass before Ember’s hand goes to my arm. I look up at her, not at all surprised to see a blade in her hand. The same one she begged me to slide beneath her pillow when I placed her in bed after the pooka attack.
But I don’t take the blade because I don’t trust myself with it. Instead, I offer her my arm.
“Raffe—”
“Do it!” I roar.
Her gorgeous eyes widen in terror, and she stares back at me. It pisses me off, tearing the rest of my resolve to shreds. In a blur of movement, I’m ripping the knife from her hand and plunging it into my arm.
Denying her is killing me.
But giving in would be worse, something I see now, because I would be taking any future she could have envisioned for herself and discarding it. Thanks to this darkness, children are not in my future. Any child born from me would carry this same weight, and doing that to another—it’s wrong. Unforgivable.
“Rafferty, what happened? What is going on?”