It hadn’t worked. None of those memories had been useful. If anything, they had been ruinous. Now Isla felt far more conflicted about what she had to do.
Oro met her in the Mainland woods. She had practiced dipping her hand into the link between them and attempting to hold his powers. She could only ever do it for a moment at a time.
“It will only take me a moment to kill him,” Oro said. “You won’t have to hold for long.”
Kill him. Some echo of her past screamed against the words. She pushed the doubt away.
“You must hate me,” Isla said.
Oro’s brows came together. “Hate you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I summoned Grim. It—it was reckless.”
“It was,” he agreed, “but it helped you come up with your plan. It could save us, if it works.”
She looked at him, incredulous. He should hate her. His endless patience and forgiveness was infuriating, because it couldn’t possibly be real.
Enya was right. Oro deserved better than her. She wasn’t good for him. “I’m broken, Oro,” she said. “You should really—you should really find
someone else to love.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you think that’s how this works?” he asked. “Do you think love is something you can control?”
She put her hands up. “I’m a mess. I see the way you look at me. I can imagine the things you want. A future. What if I—what if I’m not ready for any of that?”
His gaze did not falter. “I have waited hundreds of years for you,” he said. “You have no idea how patient I can be.”
Tears burned her eyes as she looked at him. “I don’t deserve your love.”
“Is that what you believe?”
She nodded. She really did. “You don’t know,” she said. “I—I’m awful inside. My mind is a mess. I’m a mess.” She shook her head. “One day I’m going to do something, and you’re going to see. You’re going to see me. The real me. The worst me.”
“I see everything, and I love you. Is that what scares you?” “Why?” she demanded. “Why do you love me?”
He looked at her. “For hundreds of years before I met you, I don’t think I smiled or joked or laughed more than a handful of times. Nothing excited me. Nothing made me feel anything anymore.” He took her hand. “Meeting you was like remembering what I was like before the curses,” he said. “Loving you is remembering what I once loved about me.”
He leaned in closer.
“You feel so strongly. You care. I went centuries without feeling a single thing. Until you. Don’t you see? You brought me to life.”
Isla pressed her hand against his chest, over his heart. She heard it beat under her palm. The love between them was a bridge. It went in both directions. She could feel where their forces met as much as she could feel his heartbeat.
She dipped inside the bridge. She felt Oro there. His power. Sunling.
Starling. Moonling. Skyling.
She gripped a bit and opened her palm. Fire curled out of her fingers. It was tinged in blue, just like his flames.
She had never felt closer to him. Sharing power was intimate, she knew that.
Darkness had clawed its way into her heart, but for this moment, all she could see was light.
All she could see was him.
She went on her toes and kissed him. He startled for just a moment before kissing her back. She clung to his neck, nails digging into his skin the same way they had the first time he took her flying.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against her lips. “My heart is yours for as long as you want it.”
“I’m not going anywhere either,” she promised.
Isla told Oro she needed to train alone for a while, in preparation for the battle. She asked him to supervise the Starling barrier being built. Earlier that day, Cinder had started the shield, summoning enough energy to make an entire shining wall herself. The rest of the Starlings were now going to build a second one, on the other side, securing their position.
When he was gone, and she couldn’t feel the connection between them at all, she sighed.
Remembering hadn’t worked.
She walked to the Wild Isle bridge. Crossed it. Made her way to the Place of Mirrors. She stopped in front of the vault and produced a blade.
“Forgive me,” she said to Oro. Then, she broke her promise to him. She sliced a long line across her palm. The skin parted, blood flowed, pain bellowed—
She turned it into strength.
All the Wildling power within her—the seed—melted down, dripped through her bones like liquid gold.
Isla stuck her crown into the lock, turned it— And forced the door completely open.
No surge stopped her.
She took a step into the vault.
