Unable to get comfortable, she returned to her back and flung an arm over her face, her words now muffled as she continued babbling, “Rooke killed my father — I can’t remember if I told Jaren. I was going to mention it this morning, but he didn’t want to hear anything from me. I was also going to say how my family were never rebels before Zalindov — that all happened after I was sent there. I didn’t choose that life. And when I was finally free to make that choice, I still didn’t choose it.” Quieter now, she said, “I made mistakes, but I didn’t mean to make them. And I didn’t get to tell him that, because he didn’t want to listen. That’s why I couldn’t kiss him. I wanted to — so much. But I also know he would have only agreed so we could get the ring. And that hurts. Knowing he wants nothing to do with me kills me. Every time I look at him, I feel like I can’t breathe — it’s like there’s something squeezing my chest and choking my lungs and —”
“Kiva,” Cresta muttered, “maybe you should —”
“I’m in love with him, can you believe it?” Kiva said, laughing. She opened her eyes in time to see Cresta wince and look off to the side, but she didn’t understand why, nor did it stop her from continuing, “Well, I know you can, since you had to put up with me telling you every single day at Zalindov. At least until the withdrawal passed. Then you had to stop me from wanting to kill myself.”
Cresta winced again, deeper this time, her gaze still turned away.
“And somehow, you did,” Kiva said. “Stop me, I mean. You saved me. You helped me remember I had a reason to live.” Musingly, she added, “If my heart didn’t already belong to Jaren, I think I’d be in love with you. But then Caldon would be angry at me, and I don’t want anyone else angry at me.” Sad now, Kiva whispered, “I hate that Jaren hates me. But I understand, because after everything I did, I deserve —”
“All right, that’s enough,” Cresta said in an unyielding voice. “Are you done playing the victim now?”
Kiva had trouble focusing on the redhead, but she glared in her general direction and slurred, “I’m not a victim.”
“That’s right,” Cresta stated. “You’re not a victim. You’re a survivor.” She held Kiva’s blurry eyes. “So start acting like one.”
“But I —”
“Your brother is dead, your father is dead, even your mother is dead — there’s nothing you can do about that,” Cresta said without mercy. “Bad things happen in this world, and you deal with them. You say Jaren hates you, that he wants nothing to do with you? Then you deal with that, too. But you know what you don’t do?” She didn’t give Kiva the chance to answer. “You don’t give up. You don’t wallow in self-pity. And you don’t, for whatever gods-damned idiotic reasons you have, choose angeldust over a kiss. Everworld help me, I don’t even know where to start with that, but you’d better believe you’re in for a verbal lashing once you’re sober again.”
“But I got the ring,” Kiva said petulantly, holding up her hand. “We need the rings so Jaren can get his magic back.”
“We need the rings to stop Navok from getting them and to save your precious Evalon,” Cresta corrected. “But the bottom line is, you’re more important than any stupid ring, and you put yourself at risk tonight for no reason. If Jaren hadn’t found you —”
“Jaren will always find me,” Kiva said confidently, her eyelids fluttering shut against her will, another yawn leaving her. “He might wish he’d never met me, but he’ll always protect me. He can’t help it. He’s too good. Too pure. None of us deserve him. Especially me.”
“I think I just vomited a little,” Cresta muttered, before exhaling loudly. In a slightly more compassionate voice, she said, “You’re in for a rough morning, so stop talking and try to sleep while you can. And you’d better pray you don’t remember any of this.”
“Why?” Kiva asked, her slurring more pronounced now that she was beginning to drift off. “You’ve seen me worse than this.” She blindly reached out to pat the ex-quarrier as she said, “You’re a good friend, Cresta. I’m sorry you lost your family, but I’m glad you’re a part of ours now.”
The silence that followed her statement was long enough for sleep to tug at Kiva. Whispered voices buzzed in her ears as she fought to remain conscious, one of them Cresta’s, the second a distressed male, and the third also male and distressed — and familiar enough to flood her with warmth. It was that voice that came closer, murmuring quietly, soothingly, and then Kiva felt gentle fingers trail across her cheek, before she was carefully pulled up into a pair of strong arms.
Feeling safer than she had in months, Kiva cuddled into the warm body with a sigh, whispering a slurred, “Jaren.”
“Sleep, Kiva,” he whispered back.
And then she was moving, before being lowered onto something soft again, with blankets being pulled over her as she was tucked in like a cocoon.
The last thing she felt before finally succumbing to sleep was the impossibly soft press of lips against hers.
That was when she knew — she must already be dreaming.
Chapter Twenty-Four
When Kiva awoke, the ground was shifting.
She lurched upward and staggered out of bed, only to realize she had no idea where she was. She wasn’t in her blue bedroom. She wasn’t even in the palace. Because the view out the small, circular window in the slatted wooden wall showed nothing but —
Ocean.
The ground wasn’t shifting because of the angeldust leaving her system. It was shifting because she was on a ship.
Kiva moaned as the floor swayed, and quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. Unthinking, she ran from the boxy cabin, darting along a short hallway and up a narrow set of stairs out into the bright sunshine, barely making across the deck before she leaned over the wooden railing and vomited.
That was how Caldon found her, with him breezily commenting, “I leave you alone for a few minutes and that’s when you choose to wake up? Timing, Sunshine. We need to work on yours.”
Kiva retched again, releasing nothing but bile. She hadn’t eaten much the day before, but even if she had, she couldn’t remember if she’d already brought it up in the night. She couldn’t remember anything, apart from —
Horror crashed into Kiva, the events following the Midnight Markets returning with searing clarity, everything she’d done, everything she’d said.
And worse, who had heard.
She might have forgotten about Jaren and Caldon in the haze of the moment, but they’d been in the blue suite the entire time she’d babbled to Cresta. And Jaren —
Kiva heaved again, but it wasn’t in reaction to the angeldust. Mortification flooded her, enough that, even when there was nothing left to expel, she still leaned over the rail, genuinely considering whether she should plunge into the water and never resurface.
“Don’t even think about it,” Caldon growled, reading her mind — or perhaps just seeing the wretched look on her face.