Page 175 of The Incendiary

Promise me you’ll seize it.

Destroy Molochai. Shine your light.

Live, my Ella.

Be free.

—Gavin

I shook with quiet sobs on my knees before the hearth. I held the letter to my chest and the wolf pelt to my nose. It didn’t smell like him, but it felt like him. Rough, warm, and soft all at once.

A breathtaking, intoxicating contradiction that I now had to learn how to survive without.

FIFTY-TWO

ARYELLA

Elias informed me that Commencement was to conclude within the Caves during the next few days. The final test was to spar with a superior officer, and he insisted I had already passed by successfully throwing a knife past his head without killing him. He all but begged me to focus on getting stronger after healing Gemma and her baby. I fought him on it but agreed once he promised Mavic and Mina would be given the best chance at succeeding.

Whether I liked it or not, I needed to pick my battles with Elias. I was going to need him, and I needed to keep a level head despite the remorse between us. But if I stayed in this room and mourned for too long, I would lose the will to move forward, and that was what Gavin wanted me to do.

I asked to see Gemma immediately. Shera came with me, but I insisted she curl up by the fire and do her best to remain inconspicuous to avoid causing alarm.

Gemma was just waking up when we entered a room that looked like mine, only the accents were auburn and green, and the fireplace was a bit smaller. I didn’t make it to her before Finn threw his arms around me, lifted me up off the ground, and buried a tearful face in my shoulder.

“Thank you,” he croaked. “Gods, thank you, Ary.”

His gratitude healed a small piece of my heart. “Don’t thank me,” I whispered into his chest, giving his back a comforting rub. “I couldn’t lose her, either.”

“I’ll, um…” Elias cleared his throat, drawing our attention to where he stood by the door. He looked like he felt a bit out of place. “I’ll give you all a moment.”

Once he was gone, Finn and I turned to Gemma, who now sat up in bed. She smiled widely, tears trickling down her cheeks, fingers resting over her stomach. “I owe you a debt that can never be repaid.”

“Repay me with friendship.” I sat in the chair at her bedside. “And perhaps some blunt logic when I need it.”

Gemma laughed and reached for my hand. “I can do that.”

We stared at each other, unable to decide where to begin. I sniffed back a tear and let my attention fall to her stomach. “How are you? Both of you?”

She pulled her nightgown aside, and I drew the blankets up to cover the parts of her exposed. There was no bandage, and the scar from where the spear had struck right through her was prominent but fully healed. I didn’t know why, when I healed myself or others, scarring still occurred. Maybe the gods granted us scars as reminders that we’re stronger than what we’ve endured.

She took my palm and gently laid it across her stomach. “Can you feel it?”

Within her, there were still two tendrils of life, now stronger and at peace.

I smiled. “I can feel life.”

Giggling tearfully, she rested her hand over mine. “We didn’t plan it, and we probably should have been more careful after I missed my contraceptive, but I can’t say I’ve ever been happier about anything in all my life.”

A deep, longing ache nagged at the joy I felt for Gemma. I clenched my jaw and forced it away, refusing to let it ruin this moment.

“Are you all right?” Gemma asked.

I nodded. “I was asleep for nearly half a day, but I’m fine now.”

“Ary.” The knowing sadness in her eyes grasped my heart and crushed it. “That’s not what I’m asking.”

Lips trembling, I shook my head and tore my eyes away. I promised myself I’d be strong. That I’d keep my mourning confined to my bedroom where I could curl up with the wolf pelt and his sweater and weep. Out here, I had to be strong.