didn’t want to talk about it. Staring into his eyes, I knew that I couldn’t admit that I drained Eric’s soul. And, I could barely talk about Shannon without spewing venom so thick that it made my throat hurt. No. I didn’t want to talk about them at all. Blinking, I looked away from his gaze.
My voice was flat, concealing the tremors that were shaking me apart inside, “Shannon turned on me. She said that I was corrupt from the time Apryl died. She’d been pretending to be my friend since then. We fought. She tried to kill me. So, I sent her to the surface by shoving her through a black glass. And Eric…” I paused, swallowing hard. How was I supposed to admit to Collin that I turned someone into a Valefar? The one thing that Collin wanted the most was his soul. The thing he confessed to me from the very beginning was that he would do whatever it took to undo the Valefar curse. And here I was, adding people to the Valefar army of the damned. Collin was understanding , but I didn’t think he would understand my actions.
Not this time.
To confess that I turned Eric would poison our relationship. Collin would never look at me the same way again. The last time Collin and I spoke of souls and demon kisses, I was terrified. And now? Now, I admitted the idea held some appeal. A demon kiss—the act itself was horrendous—but I was part Valefar and it called to me. And at some point during my time in the Underworld, I noticed that I didn’t have to try to act Valefar anymore. I just was. I didn’t have to flip off my Martis side and intentionally change to my Valefar side. Somehow they became equally accessible, anytime I needed that part of me.
Swallowing hard, I said the only thing that I could admit that wouldn’t skew Collin’s perception of me, “Eric’s dead.” That was all that I could admit. And it was true. The Eric I knew was dead. The new terrifying version was still around, but I was too ashamed to admit it. I tried to save him, and failed. The old Eric, the boy I knew, was dead.
Collin’s fingers threaded through my hair as I looked up at him. He pushed back stray curls like he did when we were at school and I was upset about something. Now all those times seemed so trivial. I thought my world was falling apart then, and he acted the same. His steadfast nature gave me hope. Maybe I wouldn’t become the monster that fate carved out for me. Maybe I could still be someone else.
A curl slipped between his fingers and brushed my face. “I’m sorry about Eric. I know you guys were friends.” I nodded at him, but said nothing. When I didn’t speak he asked, “So, Shannon the shrew is a full-blown Martis? And you shoved her through a black mirror?” I nodded again. His gaze bore into me. Those blue eyes were so intense that it was impossible to look away. My heart raced below my tattered shirt. It felt like he could see right through me. He smiled, “Sounds normal. For you. And what else? What aren’t you telling me?”
My stomach twisted in knots at the question. Did the bond give me away? Could he really tell that I didn’t tell him everything? I couldn’t tell him what I did to Eric. I didn’t want to admit it to myself yet, and Collin—I just couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t risk it.
Finally he saved me from my thoughts and asked, “The glass? You can conjure the Locoician Glass! That’s incredible!”
Relieved that he didn’t more about Eric, I asked, “What? You mean the mirror?” He grabbed my hands and pulled me to sit next to him on a boulder. There was no one else around; it was just us in the darkness. The dragon, wherever he went, was out of sight for the moment.
He smiled at me, “Of course! That mirror hasn’t been seen for centuries. It’s a wicked looking glass—literally. It’s made of a black mirror and brimstone. And it’s cursed. No one’s seen it since the demon Locoicia was killed. It was hers. And you can call it! That’s amazing! What did you do
My voice was flat, concealing the tremors that were shaking me apart inside, “Shannon turned on me. She said that I was corrupt from the time Apryl died. She’d been pretending to be my friend since then. We fought. She tried to kill me. So, I sent her to the surface by shoving her through a black glass. And Eric…” I paused, swallowing hard. How was I supposed to admit to Collin that I turned someone into a Valefar? The one thing that Collin wanted the most was his soul. The thing he confessed to me from the very beginning was that he would do whatever it took to undo the Valefar curse. And here I was, adding people to the Valefar army of the damned. Collin was understanding , but I didn’t think he would understand my actions.
Not this time.
To confess that I turned Eric would poison our relationship. Collin would never look at me the same way again. The last time Collin and I spoke of souls and demon kisses, I was terrified. And now? Now, I admitted the idea held some appeal. A demon kiss—the act itself was horrendous—but I was part Valefar and it called to me. And at some point during my time in the Underworld, I noticed that I didn’t have to try to act Valefar anymore. I just was. I didn’t have to flip off my Martis side and intentionally change to my Valefar side. Somehow they became equally accessible, anytime I needed that part of me.
Swallowing hard, I said the only thing that I could admit that wouldn’t skew Collin’s perception of me, “Eric’s dead.” That was all that I could admit. And it was true. The Eric I knew was dead. The new terrifying version was still around, but I was too ashamed to admit it. I tried to save him, and failed. The old Eric, the boy I knew, was dead.
Collin’s fingers threaded through my hair as I looked up at him. He pushed back stray curls like he did when we were at school and I was upset about something. Now all those times seemed so trivial. I thought my world was falling apart then, and he acted the same. His steadfast nature gave me hope. Maybe I wouldn’t become the monster that fate carved out for me. Maybe I could still be someone else.
A curl slipped between his fingers and brushed my face. “I’m sorry about Eric. I know you guys were friends.” I nodded at him, but said nothing. When I didn’t speak he asked, “So, Shannon the shrew is a full-blown Martis? And you shoved her through a black mirror?” I nodded again. His gaze bore into me. Those blue eyes were so intense that it was impossible to look away. My heart raced below my tattered shirt. It felt like he could see right through me. He smiled, “Sounds normal. For you. And what else? What aren’t you telling me?”
My stomach twisted in knots at the question. Did the bond give me away? Could he really tell that I didn’t tell him everything? I couldn’t tell him what I did to Eric. I didn’t want to admit it to myself yet, and Collin—I just couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t risk it.
Finally he saved me from my thoughts and asked, “The glass? You can conjure the Locoician Glass! That’s incredible!”
Relieved that he didn’t more about Eric, I asked, “What? You mean the mirror?” He grabbed my hands and pulled me to sit next to him on a boulder. There was no one else around; it was just us in the darkness. The dragon, wherever he went, was out of sight for the moment.
He smiled at me, “Of course! That mirror hasn’t been seen for centuries. It’s a wicked looking glass—literally. It’s made of a black mirror and brimstone. And it’s cursed. No one’s seen it since the demon Locoicia was killed. It was hers. And you can call it! That’s amazing! What did you do
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