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All along . . .

It was me. A full-body sob rattles my bones.

{{Raina, sleep.}}

Carver’s command forces heaviness into my eyes, until they ache to close. My muscles turn to liquid, and I collapse into the hold, consciousness drifting out of reach.

The last thing I hear is Addy crying.

Heavy and fuzzy, my head throbs when I wake. I groan and roll over, blinking and immediately sitting as unfamiliar surroundings come into focus. This is not my dorm. Bits of memories flash through my mind. My chest aches. Rubbing at it, I stand, a soft gray rug smoothing over my bare feet.

I tip my head, staring at the chipping polish on my toes. What the hell happened? I remember thinking I heard Oliver. The fire. Drake, and— “No.” I pinch my eyes shut as the truth shimmers around me.

Everything I’ve gone through. Mr. Peters. My missing sister. Losing my parents? It was all my fault. I swat angrily at my cheeks, hating the weakness. Loathing myself more than ever before. I don’t deserve to grieve.

But if I killed them, then I have magic, right? I reach deep within me, searching for any trace of power, though, like every time before, I can’t find it. I try again, digging deep. Come on, magic, where are you? No response. Nothing is different. It’s the same as it always is, like there was never anything there to begin with.

Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe it was another illusion cast by Drake, some sick attempt to awaken my power . . . but, wait, if I have no power, I wouldn’t have been able to start the fire. So that memory or whatever it was can’t be real.

It was fake. Planted there by Drake. Maybe he’s pissed I’m still hanging around Bellamy, and this was his revenge.

The door swings open, and I force the tears back, swallowing the pain, letting anger take its place.

Bellamy walks in, hair disheveled, red-rimmed eyes carefully taking me in. I wait for his judgment. The vampire simply opens his arms. I stare at them, confusion creasing my face. I actually really want a hug, but I’m not sure I deserve one. Not after what I did.

No. I didn’t do it. Drake cast that illusion. He made me think I did it. I fist my hands. It wasn’t me.

The vampire arches an eyebrow and quirks his fingers.

“Well, if you’re going to beg,” I mumble, shuffling into his arms. Even if I didn’t do it, that vision Drake created felt so real, I’m ready to break into a million pieces.

Usually the vampire would laugh and crack a joke, only this time, he doesn’t. Bellamy’s hug is firm, and it slithers around my heart, soothing the deepest ache and making me feel less alone. He doesn’t say a word, and somehow, it’s exactly what I need.

He simply holds me until I feel somewhat normal. Until it’s too awkward to stay, and I carefully extract myself from his hold, stepping back and fisting my hands at my side.

I’ll kill the mage.

But first, I need to recover. I’m still too fragile, and the way Bellamy is watching me tells me I look like it as well. I avert my gaze, studying the monochromatic walls. The black comforter and sheets. The abstract paintings on the wall call to me. I move to them before I even realize that I’m walking. A piece that’s only dark paint, parts of it so black one could disappear inside of it, is filled with so much visceral emotion that my breath catches in my throat.

It’s depressing. Not in a bad way. There’s something elegant about the emotion put on canvas. Like the artist captured the deepest well of sadness.

“Drake’s always been good at stealing the show,” Bellamy murmurs.

My head whips toward him. “This is Drake’s room?” I spit in disgust. I thought it was the vampire’s, not the person responsible for this pain that’s eating me alive.

Bellamy nods. “He was practically rabid when he brought you in.”

Scoffing, I shake my head. Now that, I don’t believe. He messed with my head. The only thing I don’t understand is why or what the fire had to do with it. Was that him too? “I didn’t ask him to save me,” is all I mutter in response to the vampire.

“And you never do,” the bane of my existence says, voice cutting me as always. “And yet, throughout eternity, I find myself having to rescue you.”

The rage that shoots through me is so intense, my vision wavers slightly. I spin around, and without taking him in, I charge him, moving faster than I ever have before. He doesn’t even have a chance to respond before my hands clasp around his throat and I tackle him to the ground. It’s like we’re back in the pit the first time I snapped his neck.

“Why did you do it?” I snarl, spittle flying everywhere.

“Do what?” he rasps, grunting as I squeeze harder.

“That illusion!” I scream, shaking him. “You made me think I killed them,” I hiss, squeezing harder as his face turns red. “You and your stupid fucking power!”