Page 55 of Nocte

She is a drag. An anchor around my neck. I shake her loose and walk away. Run away.

She can take her chances in this realm she craved to see so much.

No longer is she of any use to me.

Let her rot out here.

Let her die out here.

Yes, yes.I keep running until the sound of her heavy breathing is a distant memory. I run until her scent dissipates on the wind. I run and run.

It’s only when I near the outskirts of that teeming, filthy mortal city that I remember; I have her bundle. What stupid items would a fae hold dear?

I already know one of them, even before I stop and rip open her bundle to see: a single dying, once-white rose. It rests on top of, of all things, a leather book, worn with age, reeking of must. I assume it's one of her fae stories until I flip it open to a random page. Not words. Drawings are scrawled across these pages. Ugly. Too much color. Too bright.

I want to pitch it into the darkness. Rip it to shreds.

I start to.

As I loosen my grip on the leather object, a new word trips into my skull. Not a color. A feeling. It makes me think of her, my foolish little fae.

Remorse.Disgusting word. Stupid word.

Don’t care.

I drop her bundle on the ground and walk away. She doesn’t matter. Her ability to inspire words doesn’t matter. The past doesn’t matter.

Who I was before Cassiusdoesn’tmatter.

Nothing does.

Not anymore.

But then…

I catch her scent on the air, and it draws me back. Back to that stupid fucking book. Back to her bundle of worthless things—all she has to her fake, stolen name.

Why leave them here for her to find?

I take them, tucking them under my cloak.

A bargaining chip to come in handy for another time, should I see her again.

If I see her again.

CHAPTER18

Niamh

There is something in my throat I can’t swallow down. It’s a thick lump that threatens to choke me whenever I breathe. Swallow. Think about him in this wide, waning darkness.

Realize that I am alone. For the first time in my life, truly alone. There are no fervent whispers to haunt my steps. No workers of the Citadel darting in and out of my reach. At least then, I knew I was some kind of being. A live one.

Here I am empty, soundless, nothingness.

It’s what I wanted, after all. He gave me what I wanted, and for that…

I watched him go and let him leave. I didn’t even say goodbye. I didn’t try to follow him.