Bastien

As far away as I wanted to remain from all that was familiar, I could not venture too far in my boat. Not when my homeland was being bludgeoned and raped. It was like a cord around my midriff, binding me to the land. It was my duty to return, but I was not ready yet.

I sat in the small boat, my back turned toward the shore, while the endless expanse of blue stretched out in front of me. And I wished. I wished that I was stronger than this. I wished that my heart was lined with steel, as hard and enduring as my muscles. I wished that I did not feel all that I felt in this moment.

Would Victoria really have betrayed me? Was she as callous a woman as Brucella?

When she had responded to my kiss, had it all been an act?

All along… had she never been my friend?

It didn’t make sense. Every part of me wanted to reject it. But then, I reminded myself, a lot of things in my world hadn’t been making sense of late. Not since the night I’d lost my family.

Maybe things will make more sense if I just accept Victoria for what she is. A liar. A cheat. A player of hearts.

But then, each time I tried to accept it, I would remember her light blue eyes, the way she’d looked at me. The way she’d smiled or squeezed my hand. The way she’d nestled her head against my chest at night. The way she had pulled me closer as I had caressed her lips. The way she’d breathed my name.

Although evidence for her betrayal was before my very eyes—what kind of a coincidence would it be for the hunters to arrive with their monsters just after we accepted her family into our midst?—I could not ignore the feeling pervading my body that Victoria was innocent. And there simply has to be another explanation.

Life would not be so unkind to me. It would not…

“Bastien!”

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach as a familiar voice shrilled out from behind me.

I whirled around and, to my shock, laid eyes on one of the old port’s large ships gliding toward me. I had been so lost in my own mind, I hadn’t even sensed its approach. Gazing up toward the deck, I was met with the odious face of my aunt. Standing next to her on the deck were Sergius and Rona, along with many others from the Northstone tribe. So they had managed to escape, and they had gotten the same idea as me.

“Climb aboard, nephew!” Brucella called, even as she began to mount the railing. Her ship was more than close enough for an easy jump.

And jump she did.

She hurled herself across the waves and landed at the bow of my boat, causing it to shudder and shake beneath my feet. Then she lunged toward me. But I did not give her the chance to touch me.

I would not climb aboard her ship. I would not allow myself into the Northstone fold. Doing that would be like admitting that I had lost Victoria forever. It would mean putting aside the fact that my aunt and Dane had attempted to kill her, and simply accepting that she had deserved it all along. That Brucella was right, and Victoria had been a rogue.

And it would be one step closer to Rona.

One step closer to falling into a life that I did not wish to be mine.

“No,” I growled beneath my breath.

With a forceful thrust of my legs, I leapt off the boat before Brucella could reach me and dove into the waves.

I did not look back to see if she had followed me—I was sure that she had. I just kept thrusting myself downward into the water, kicking as hard as I could. I did not stop swimming for many miles, until I was certain that I’d lost her.

I did not know what I might come across in these waters. In all my life, I had left my home country only a handful of times, and that had simply been on boat trips with my father to traverse the ocean for a couple of miles.

I did not know many things about the world. Or even about my own life right now.

But I did know that I had to keep running. I could not let them catch me. I had to stay free…

It’s what Victoria would have wanted.

Grace

I was up by five-thirty the following morning. I headed to the kitchen and whipped up a quick breakfast for myself before grabbing my backpack and heading to the hospital.

Arriving at the patient’s room, I pressed my ear against the door. Metal clinked against porcelain. I knocked.

“Come in.” It was Shayla’s voice.

Her eyes widened as I stepped in through the door. She was sitting next to the man, supervising him eating a bowl of broth. I noted that he had changed, now wearing dark green pajamas, and his thin hair was no longer greasy; it was shiny and sleek. His face also looked brighter and fresher.

“Someone’s an early bird,” Shayla remarked.

“Yeah, well, I woke up early and figured that I might as well come straight here… Good morning,” I addressed the man.

He glanced up at me briefly, his mouth full.

“How’s it going?” I asked the witch, taking a seat on the opposite side of his bed from her.

“Great,” she said, chirpy. “Tom already helped with showering, and this is our guest’s second bowl of broth.”

“That’s awesome,” I said, smiling at him.

“I came up with a different potion during the night,” Shayla explained. “Now he’s able to down things a lot better. Also, this broth is a lot easier on the stomach than bread.” She stood briskly. “Well, I’ll be leaving for the time being. There’s more broth in the kitchen, if it’s required.”

With that, she left the room.

The man was still focusing on his food, spooning it slowly into his mouth.