“I want to kill a lot of people,” he said, like that made things better. He looked her dead in the eyes. “I kill a lot of people.”
She swallowed, and his gaze went straight to her throat.
He stalked toward her, and Isla backed away. Her spine hit the wall. Her heart seemed ready to beat out of her chest, but she smirked. “I got the information. I know exactly where the sword is. Seems like I’m a perfectly good temptress.” In the most mocking tone that she could manage at the moment, she said, “Tell me, nonpowerful Nightshade. Was I able to tempt you?” He frowned down at her, and she grinned. She stared up at him through her eyelashes. “Did I make you fall hopelessly in love with me?”
Isla gasped as he pinned her against the wall. His hands were rough against her hips. His fingers traveled up the sides of her stomach, to her ribs, to her breasts. She arched her back, groaning as his thumbs made wide sweeps across them. She knew he could feel her emotions, her want.
“No,” he said against her parted lips. “You are not something special to me. You are not something I want to love.” He reached up to her lips and smeared her red lipstick with his thumb. “You are something I want to ruin.”
Then he ducked his head to her throat and bit her.
It was a light bite, just a scraping of his teeth, but Isla gasped, which turned into a moan as his tongue swiped across the same spot. She wanted him so much—she wanted everything.
In a single motion, he turned her around, so her chest was pressed to the wall. His hands raked up her thighs, until he gripped her hips.
Before she could move against him or do any of the millions of things that were racing through her mind, he made a portal with her starstick against the wall in front of her and pushed her through it.
SPLIT
She woke up next to Oro and couldn’t even look at him. When she was in her memories, it was as if everything was happening to her, again, and—
It felt like a betrayal.
Oro would tell her it wasn’t her fault. That these things had already happened, months before she ever met him.
But now, reliving them . . . sleeping next to someone else . . .
It was a poison she was feeding herself. Forcing herself to swallow it down, even though it was killing her inside.
She felt like she was being split apart. Past Isla, a person she barely even recognized. Current Isla, who had slipped back into pain, into anxiety, into hurt, due to the memories.
A person could take only so much.
Midnight was a comforting time of action. Perhaps it was the quiet, or the fact that the chances were low that someone would stumble upon her, or the indulgence of patting herself on the back that she was going above and beyond by even being awake at this hour, let alone working, or maybe it was all of that encapsulated into one.
Maybe it was because she was part Nightshade.
She used her starstick to portal herself to Wild Isle. There, she went through the Wildling movements. She began practicing forming the types of defensive, thorned plants that she would create across the Mainland. She made patches of bog sand.
Isla visited her room before she went back to bed and watched herself in the mirror. There were dark circles beneath her eyes. Her lips were raw and chapped. Her skin was rough in some places where it had been smooth. She looked too thin.
Her eyes slid to her neck. It looked bare.
It was not.
She touched a hand to the necklace, which only she could feel, and anger built inside. Of course Grim would gift her a necklace impossible to take off. Of course he would make sure she couldn’t forget him, even though she wanted to.
She remembered his words when he had gifted it to her, at the ball. Should you ever need me, touch this. And I will come for you.
Enough. Isla got one of her blades and positioned it precariously against the necklace. One slipup and she would be dead, but she would not slip. She began trying to cut the damned thing off.
The blade didn’t even make a mark. She tried pulling the back, nearly choking herself in the process, but the necklace stayed firm, undisturbed.
She tried wrapping Wildling power around it. Sawing it. Burning it with her fireplace poker. Even summoning a handful of Nightshade shadows and sharpening them into weapons.
Nothing worked.
Thirteen days before Grim was set to destroy the island, the Skylings finally held their vote. The meeting on Sky Isle was well underway. For hours, different sides had debated the issue. Isla, Oro, Enya, Calder, and Zed sat watching as they discussed the very good reasons why all Skylings should leave Lightlark.
She had seen it in her vision—dreks were coming. Without Skylings in the air to fight them, it would be another bloodbath. Hundreds of Skyling soldiers had been trained in the flight force. They made up a large part of their numbers.
“We can’t lose them,” Enya whispered, almost to herself.
The sides were almost evenly matched—just a few votes were undecided. Still, it seemed clear that it would tip toward leaving the island.
Before the final vote was cast, Oro stood to address them. “We all know the value of your flight force and numbers in this battle. You might believe you can flee the danger, but it will follow. If Grim wipes out Lightlark, what is to stop him from taking out the Skyling newland as well? For all we know, he wants to wipe away the world.” There were whispers. A few people nodded. “Regardless, without Lightlark, Skyling will fall. Every generation will become weaker. People will die. Power will dwindle. Your ruler’s ability and your own stem from the power that is buried deep within Lightlark. If the island is destroyed . . . so are we all.”
Oro sat down. It was a good speech. There was murmuring. Still, something in her chest said it wasn’t enough. Something told her how the vote would go—
She stood, and the whispers quieted. She looked at Azul, who had organized the meeting. “May I speak?” she asked.
Azul nodded.
“This isn’t just about the battle,” Isla said. “This is about after. The future we build after saving the island. Building a better Lightlark.” She looked at the committee, including Bronte and Sturm. Then, at the Skylings sitting in the room, watching her.
She needed to offer something to the Skylings. They didn’t value much . . . but they did value something above all else.
She hesitated, before saying, “If we survive this attack, I plan on implementing a democracy for Starlings.” Murmurs. Zed shot her a look. She straightened her spine and continued, “I will hold a vote, and if someone else is more capable of being ruler, I will step down.” She meant it. She had always admired Azul’s rule, and the truth was, the Starlings deserved to be ruled by one of their own. Maren, for example. “Anyone who stays and fights is battling for a better future. One where more people have choices and rights. We need Skylings, or we will lose, and that better future will have been just a dream, extinguished.”
Oro placed his hand on hers for a split second as she sat down, and she felt better, knowing he had agreed with what she had done.
She didn’t think it would shift the vote, but it could encourage some Skylings to stay and fight. She only knew she’d had to try.
Azul’s voice thundered through the room as he said, “We will now conduct our vote.”
Isla waited for the results with Enya and Calder, in the war room. Oro was at the vote. Zed was casting his own.