Sever (The Ever Series Book 3)

by C. J. Valles

  I step back, wounded by his words.

  “I’m too selfish to let that happen,” Alex continues. “Because I want you more than I want this world.”

  “Well,” I sniffle. “I want to stop hurting everyone I love.”

  “That is impossible, my love. You must make the decisions that are right for you … as you are the one who will have to live with them.”

  … when you have nothing to lose, you will go to any length to achieve the ends you desire. That’s what Alex said to me last year. The question is: how far will I go? And do I even know what I want anymore?

  “Not comforting,” I mutter.

  “But true, nonetheless.”

  “Okay, so what now?”

  “Food, sleep, then a normal life in the morning if you wish it.”

  “A normal life?” I smile crookedly. “You said it yourself: that ship sailed a long time ago.”

  “Good, then you won’t mind an immortal cooking for you.”

  I let him take my hand, and he leads me up the hill to the house. In the kitchen, Madame Rousseau is sitting at the kitchen table with Aimee. They’re speaking—in French. Somehow I’m not surprised that Aimee knows French, too.

  “Wren!” she squeaks when she sees me.

  “Ma petite fille, it has been too long,” Madame Rousseau smiles.

  I look myself up and down and wince. Of course, I’m the only one in a nightgown. I shouldn’t be so self-conscious, considering my life just self-destructed in front of my eyes.

  Correction: I willingly pushed the self-destruct button.

  Madame Rousseau rises from her chair, and I hurry over to hug her. As I wrap my arms around her, her bones feel light and fragile like a small bird’s. The last time I was here with her, Alex had been my enemy. Now, more than a year later, I’m back in the same place, only this time it was Ever I was afraid of.

  “I always knew Alexandre would bring you back,” my elderly French caretaker whispers.

  I pull back and smile, feeling tears on my cheeks.

  “I’m so happy to see you again,” I say truthfully.

  “Breakfast?”

  I turn to see Alex has assembled a collection of ingredients on the countertop. When he looks up at me and smiles, the uninhibited happiness in his startlingly blue eyes is just as likely to break me as the rage I saw in Ever’s eyes when he looked at me. Blinking back tears, I smile and reach out to touch Aimee’s shoulder, noticing that she’s now wearing jeans and a pink T-shirt.

  “I’ll be right back,” I murmur before hurrying toward the staircase.

  When I reach the second floor, I pause in front of a familiar gilded mirror and stare at my reflection. My eyes look wrong. It looks like another person looking back at me through my eyes. Suddenly my image grins widely and laughs at me.

  “Join us,” my reflection whispers.

  A hand extends through the glass, beckoning to me. My throat is dry, but I force a scream past my lips. A second later, an arm wraps around me, pulling me back. Alex swings a blade into the mirror, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces, before pulling me to him.

  “What did you see?”

  “Me. My reflection, but it was …”

  I feel my eyes glaze over at the memory of my face twisted with such madness.

  “It was her,” I whisper. “The princess.”

  “Irisa,” Alex says.

  I frown.

  “She has a name in this dimension?”

  “More a personal joke of mine, and not a good one, much like Ever and the others naming me Iago,” Alex says with a sheepish look.

  “I don’t get it.”

  He opens his palm and shows me an iridescent stone.

  “Is it from your world?”

  He shakes his head.

  “No. Just a simple rainbow quartz, also known as an iris.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “It is beautiful, but internally flawed. The defects are what cause it to reflect the light.”

  I nod, not quite in the right space to enjoy Alex’s word play. Somehow, seeing my evil twin self in the mirror was more disturbing than my recent trip across the dimensional divide.

  “That makes sense,” I mutter blankly. “She was definitely flawed. I guess I have more in common with her than I thought,” I laugh humorlessly.

  Alex squeezes my hand, and I look up at him.

  “You are nothing like her,” he says seriously. “Nothing.”

  ***

  We make it from the south of France to my darkened bedroom in a millisecond. Less than an hour ago, I finished breakfast in Madame Rousseau’s kitchen, took a shower, brushed my teeth, went back to the garden for one last look—and now here I am at home—on the same night that I left. I didn’t even change out of my floor-length nightgown, which makes me feel like Wendy Darling as Alex sets me down on the floor and touches my cheek.

  “Would that make me Peter Pan?” he asks with a crooked smile. “I hadn’t realized I was wearing tights.”

  I blush and look at my hands.

  “It’s going to take some getting used to,” I mumble. “You hearing my thoughts. But yeah, Peter Pan—the boy who would never grow up. That’s you. Well, you’re not exactly a boy, but still …”

  I trail off and look up at him, watching as his expression of amusement begins to fade.

  “You could have left me there,” he says quietly.

  “No. I left you there too long, and I can’t forgive myself for that.”

  “Wren, I deserved everything that came to me. But you … you are far better than I deserve. And I will not let what I am destroy you.”

  I shake my head.

  “You gave yourself up for me,” I remind him.

  “Ever isn’t the only one who needed to atone for past wrongs.”

  Suddenly I see it in his eyes. Irisa, Victor’s princess, watching Alex. Wanting him. Dropping down to sit on the bed, I hesitate.

  “What happened to her?”

  Alex’s lip curls.

  “Victor punished her. Turned her mind against her. Only pain pleases her now.”

  “And you blame yourself? How is it your fault? You didn’t do anything.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t do anything. I stood by and watched as he turned her mad.”

  “But you couldn’t help it if she loved you—”

  He shakes his head.

  “Love? No, love was not what she felt for me. Even before she went mad, she was merely acquisitive, incapable of love. Yet I still bear the weight of my inaction.”

  “Is that why you gave yourself up for me last year? Because you felt guilty?”

  He drops to his knee in front of me.

  “I have much to feel guilty for, but the reason I left was not out of guilt, but because I wanted you to be free.”

  “Ever said you only did it to bind me to you.”

  “Even if you had never looked back once, I wouldn’t regret my choice. … Do you regret your choice to come for me?”

  I shake my head.

  “No, I don’t regret it. I just can’t understand how I can … how I can love two people at once.”

  “Had I been a selfless creature, I would have left you alone. But I’ve never claimed to be that.”

  “I don’t get it, though,” I whisper. “What did either of you see in me?”

  “Hope. Beauty. Compassion. Understanding. Forgiveness. Love. A chance at happiness. And a wicked sense of humor that I believe I am better suited to appreciate than any other.”

  I let myself fall back onto the bed, watching the darkness around bend and blur through my tears. I shut my eyes against the sting.

  “Dammit, Alex. I needed you to be the bad guy. I needed you to be Iago. Because I can’t love you. Do you understand? I … can’t.”

  “But you do love me … and, for that, I am forever grateful.”

  When I open my eyes, he’s above me in the darkness—weightless—with his arms on either side of my head as he watch
es each shuddering breath I take. When he bends his head to mine, awareness spreads through my body. Reaching up, I touch his chest tentatively, amazed by the unyielding contour of muscles. I freeze as his lips brush my cheek.

  “I am yours.”

  I blink, and he’s gone. Sitting up, I feel my heart race. I have reason to fear everyone but Alex right now. And that’s when I see him sitting at my desk, watching me. Frowning, I pull the covers up to my neck before falling back on my pillow.

  “You could have stayed here with me,” I mumble into the darkness.

  When he doesn’t say anything, I finally close my eyes, abruptly aware that every cell in my body is exhausted.

  “That would have required restraint I do not possess. Now sleep.”

  I hear the smile in his voice as sleep comes for me. Only seconds later—or at least that’s what it feels like—my alarm clock goes off. Groaning, I roll over and swat at the snooze button.

  “Good morning.”

  Electricity courses through me as I sit upright in bed. The first thing I see is my prom dress, hanging on the back of the closet door. Then my eyes shift to my desk.

  “You are quite loquacious in your sleep,” Alex smiles lazily.

  I’m on the verge of directing a smart remark at dream-Alex when reality interrupts me.

  Alex is actually here. I saved him. It wasn’t a dream. Which means my life is more complicated than I thought possible. This time, though, it isn’t otherworldly forces complicating things—it’s my stupid, unruly feelings.

  Finally I understand the comment Ever made once about being compromised by his emotions. I never thought anything in this world could sever my tie to Ever. But Alex, like Ever, isn’t of this world. Their entire existence is not humanly possible, just like my feelings, my love—for both of them.

  “You were here all night?” I ask cautiously.

  “We have too many enemies to be apart.”

  We. We have too many enemies.

  “Ever isn’t my enemy,” I whisper fiercely as guilt and regret cause my eyes to burn.

  Then I remember the blast wave that Alex shielded me from. My stomach drops. Had Ever meant to kill me? Swinging my legs over the side of my bed, I start to get up just as Alex appears in front of me.

  “Wren, Ever is right. I haven’t played the game fairly; I am the interloper. And if our roles were reversed, I would wish him punished and exiled for stealing what was mine.”

  Looking up at him, I have a sudden flash, and it becomes painfully clear. Despite what Alex said last night, I know the real reason why he wants me. Why Ever wants me. Why Victor wants me. I laugh as I remember playing this game in school as a kid.

  “The game? It’s the inter-dimensional version of musical chairs, right?”

  Alex frowns in confusion until I envision the game in my head.

  “The only one left standing loses,” I whisper without emotion. “And I’m the last ‘chair.’ Basically the last girl left on the planet.”

  Hollowness fills my chest. Victor needs a body for crazy-town Irisa, even though he’s the one who drove her nuts. And Alex and Ever are facing eternity alone. That means I’m only valuable because I’m their last chance. Victor’s motives, at least, make sense—he needs a puppet for Irisa. He also needs me to take over this world.

  But Alex and Ever? How did I ever convince myself that either one of them wanted me for me? Disgusted with myself for believing that I was more—to either of them—than the last toy on the shelf, I stand up and try to brush past Alex. It feels better to be angry with both of them than to hate myself for being stupid on top of everything else. Alex cuts me off instantly, blocking my path. I look up at him with tears stinging my eyes.

  “Get out of my way unless you want a jolt,” I threaten.

  When he takes me by the shoulders, I reach up and place my hands on his chest, summoning every ounce of hurt and anger I have from deep down. Pushing the energy outward through my palms, I watch as Alex releases me and drops to his knees. Before I can step away, he reaches out lightning fast and grabs one of my hands, pulling me down with him.

  “Wren, I misspoke before. You are not a game to me. You are the most important piece of my existence, and I will withstand any pain to be with you, for as long you wish it.”

  “Why?” I plead.

  “Because you are the other half of me.”

  As I stare into his eyes, searching for the truth, I can feel his love. Suddenly a cold realization spreads through me like a winter storm.

  If I looked this deeply into Ever’s eyes, I would be dead.

  21: Complicated

  Tiptoeing down the hall, I pause before pushing open my mom’s door. Silently, I watch her. She’s propped up in bed with her glasses on as she reads. On her dresser, there’s a vase with a dozen red roses—clearly from Richard. As I push open the door, she takes off her glasses and looks up.

  “Where did you get that nightgown?” she asks, laughing.

  Bursting into tears, I climb into bed with her and hug myself to her chest.

  “Wren, honey—what happened?” she asks as she strokes my hair.

  I shake my head, all the hurt and confusion washing over me as a sob escapes my throat.

  “Oh, baby, what’s wrong? Is it Ever?”

  I’m crying so hard that I can’t even form a word. Even if I could talk, there are too many things wrong to explain. Get a grip, Wren! I scream in my head. Biting my lip, I sit up and smile shakily at my mom. I’m going to tell her the truth, at least as much as I can tell her.

  “We broke up,” I whisper.

  I take a heaving breath as she gasps.

  “When?”

  “Last night. I did something awful, and now he hates me.”

  Her brow creases.

  “What could you have done that’s so awful?” she asks gently.

  “I … I kissed someone else.”

  When my mom laughs in shock, I give her a scathing look.

  “I’m sorry, honey, but I’m just trying to imagine a boy—any boy—who could compete with your boyfriend.” She pauses, and her eyes light up. “Wait, is it that boy Josh?”

  I shake my head miserably, wondering how it’s possible for my mom to make me feel any worse than I already do.

  “I met him last year. He was a transfer student, and then he left.”

  That’s the simple, rational explanation. It’s not like I can tell her that I watched as he was sucked through an inter-dimensional portal.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about him, sweetie?”

  “I didn’t like him then. I mean, I thought he was kind of a jerk.”

  Actually, back then I thought he was a psycho immortal kidnapper, but that’s yet another thing I can’t tell her.

  “What changed?” she asks, handing me a tissue.

  Blowing my nose, I think about her question.

  “He came back, and I guess I realized we had a lot in common.”

  “And Ever saw you kissing him?”

  I nod miserably.

  “I’m a horrible person,” I hiccup.

  “Oh, honey. You’re not a horrible person. You’re just confused. I think I really did a number on you when your father and I split up. I don’t think your father’s a horrible person—”

  “You … don’t?”

  “I think we both went a long time without being honest with each other and even ourselves,” she says slowly. “He made some decisions that were hurtful, but I don’t think he’s a horrible person. If I had it to do over again, I would still marry your father—because I got you.”

  She smiles, and I see her logic—but something about it scares me. Does that mean she would regret marrying my father if she hadn’t had me? It kind of makes my dad sound expendable, and I don’t feel like either Alex or Ever is expendable. Actually, that’s the whole problem—I love them both. When my mom’s eyes widen, I cringe.

  “Wait, isn’t tonight … prom?”

  “Yep,” I exhale.
>
  “Oh, sweetie. … You’re still going, though. Aren’t you?”

  I shake my head.

  “What about your friends?”

  Thinking about the drama that would ensue if everyone found out that Ever and I broke up the night before prom, I want to sink into oblivion.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Wren, you can’t let this ruin what’s left of your senior year. You’re young, and you made a mistake. You’ll get past it, believe me.”

  I shake my head. Despite Caroline Sullivan’s stubbornly rose-colored glasses, I know that some things can’t be fixed. She is right about one thing, though. I made a mistake, a big one. Maybe the biggest of my life. I shouldn’t have kissed Alex. I should have walked away and gotten my head straight. Of course, now I can see that, but at the time …

  Either way, it doesn’t mean I could have ignored my feelings forever. I saved Alex because I couldn’t let him sacrifice himself for me—but also because I needed to find out how deeply my feelings ran. Now I know. Right or wrong, I love him as much as I love Ever, just in a different way. My mom nudges my shoulder.

  “So, what about this other boy? What’s his name?”

  “Alex.”

  My cheeks flush. I’ve kept him in the darkest corner of my heart for more than a year, and saying his name now—to my mom—feels surreal.

  “Do you like him?”

  I wince.

  “More than I should.”

  “Do you think he wants to take you to prom?”

  “Mom, no offense, but that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

  My mom sighs.

  “Well, honey. Whatever you decide, just promise me that you’re not going to beat yourself up for the rest of the year.”

  “Good thing there’s not much time left to torture myself,” I smile crookedly. “Just until graduation.”

  “Not funny, young lady.”

  She hugs me before throwing off the blanket and getting out of bed. Grabbing her robe from the hook on the door, she turns back to me.

  “Let me know what you decide about tonight.”

  Forcing a smile, I nod again before climbing out of her bed. As soon as I reach my room, I start taking out a change of clothes, trying to think of what to do with myself now that I’ve royally messed up my life. Hearing the shower turn on down the hall, I sigh. So much for hot water. When my phone buzzes from the nightstand, I pick it up and find a million texts from Ashley, Taylor, and Lindsay.