Smearing tears across her face with a hasty swipe of her arm, she tore off her dress. The last mark she’d leave on the world, a stained wedding gown in the dirt.
Clad in a thin slip, she walked into the ocean.
When it grew too deep to stand, she swam.
She couldn’t force herself to drown, but if she kept swimming, her arms would eventually grow too weak to carry her back. The water would close over her head, a new Finestra would rise, and her family, her friends, Dante—everyone except her—might have a chance to live.
Ivini said the only way to save the island was to sacrifice her, but sacrifice demanded loss. It required a choice. Her choice.
She’d die if she had to, but not as a victim.
If anyone was going to get a shrine for killing the False Finestra, it would be her.
A poorly timed sob left her choking on a mouthful of water as she passed the rock in the center of the cove. She ordered her body to accept it, to allow the water to flood her lungs, but panic sent her arms thrashing, grasping.
Her hands met stone and she hauled herself onto the flat surface, gasping and coughing.
So selfish, she couldn’t even drown herself to save the world.
Hugging her knees to her chest, she stared across the quiet ocean. Time and space had no meaning on the day of endless night.
At a distant splashing, her numbness flared into anger. All those years hating her loneliness, and when she needed it, she was denied. She didn’t want to see anyone.
“I’ve been searching for hours.”
Even him. Especially him. Dante pulled himself onto the rock.
“You found me,” she said, sounding dead to her own ears. “Now leave.”
The night concealed him, but she didn’t have to see to know what he looked like. Memories were more vivid than anything she could make out in the darkness.
“It wasn’t your fault.” His hand found the base of her neck, kneading gently, but she didn’t lean into his touch.
“It’s always my fault.”
Her island—her people—were doomed, and there was only one way to save them: by sacrificing herself. And she didn’t want to. She wanted to pretend she was just a girl, to forget everything beyond the beach and stay there forever with the beautiful, stubborn man who didn’t flinch at her touch or shy away from her like the rest of the world.
He was the ghiotte, but she was the monster.
“Did you hear me?” he said, low and insistent. “Kaleb’s alive. Unconscious, but alive.”
“How do you know? You weren’t there.”
“I came back, but you were already gone. The doctors said he’ll pull through.”
“Fine. Kaleb’s alive.” Maybe if she emerged from the bone-deep numbness, she’d be relieved, happy even. She hoped not. Feelings would only make it harder to do what she had to. “If I can’t keep a Fonte conscious through a wedding, I can’t keep one alive through a battle. I can’t save us.”
She didn’t realize she was shaking her head until he took her face between his hands.
No matter how far she ran, she would always be dragged back to that wretched peak where she would fail and watch her whole world end. Her fault. Dante’s love was just one more tie binding her to the life she never wanted.
Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m so tired of trying and failing and hurting people. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Then don’t.”
“I have no choice.” She wanted to rip down the sky and shred it with her fingernails, to pluck every star from the fabric of the heavens until the fathomless darkness matched the void inside her.
“You always have a choice.” He held her face, forcing her to look in his eyes. “If you don’t want to go back, we won’t. We’ll find a cave, fill it with supplies. Barricade ourselves inside until the scarabei die out.”
“I’d be a traitor. A pariah. Even if Saverio somehow survived, I’d be an outcast for the rest of my life.”
He shrugged. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”
A sound escaped her lips somewhere between a wet laugh and a strangled breath. “Thousands of people would die.”
“True.” He pointed at a patch of grass beyond the sand. “We could build a little house right over there.”
“Amidst the barren land decimated by a swarm of voracious demons.”
“Plants grow back.”
“Before we starve?”
“I’d fish for our dinners.”
She sighed. “And I’d raise chickens.”