Successor

  Taustin may have an old score to settle against Ren, but Sianne’s actions struck him the hardest. Killing Ren would be nothing compared to the vendetta he harbors against my mother. But now all that’s left is her memory. And me.

  And now he’s demanding I give him everything she refused.

  My vision blurs as I search for something, anything to cling to as the weight of defeat crushes down on me. Taustin was right. I shame my mother’s legacy.

  My focus finds its way to Lasula, who holds the ball in her hands. Her expression holds no grief over the loss of her sister, only cold calculation. It’s obvious she felt nothing for Ryka. She’s her father’s daughter, after all. Instead of anger or hate, all I have for her is pity.

  Shutting my eyes, I will this to be a nightmare. I want my simple life back, the one where I’m a normal girl and haven’t heard of the Link or the Nexus Key or the Laraek. I don’t want to know about this world or these people. I don’t want to care about any of this.

  I don’t want to be a bonder anymore.

  In this moment, I want a lot of things. But more importantly, I can’t want them. Because as soon as I do, it means I’ve given up. That would be the true shame to my mother’s legacy. I never knew her, but I know she never would have given up in the face of hardship, not when she had a job to do and people needed her. If she were here, she would stand and fight. She would make sacrifices.

  So will I.

  My lungs start aching, and I suck in a sharp breath, opening my eyes. Ren’s gaze bores into me. He looks exhausted and wary, but when I look at him, panic overtakes him and he starts to rise, straining with the effort. He’s on one foot when two outlanders catch his shoulders and force him back down. An agonized grunt erupts from his throat, and his injured shoulder bows under the outlander’s hand.

  “Do not do this, Evan.” His strained plea sounds like a warning, laced with urgency. My heart clenches at the sound of my name. “Not for me.”

  I bite my lip, wanting to tell him everything will be okay, and he doesn’t need to worry. But I can’t. Because none of this is okay.

  My mouth opens to say something, anything, but Taustin’s voice cuts in like a growl.

  “My patience has its limits, Bonder.”

  Tears burn my eyes, blurring my vision. I blink them away, setting my jaw in determination. When I speak, my voice is nothing more than a whisper. “Agreed.”

  Calls of protest sound behind me, and the hands on my arms fall away. Ren and I stare at each other, neither of us moving through the noise surrounding us. He slumps back on his heels, looking lost. Empty. Disbelief fills his eyes as they search my face, his brows drawn together.

  I mouth I’m sorry to him. His eyes close. His head falls forward in defeat.

  My chest tightens, like all the air has been leeched from my lungs, and I can’t look at him anymore. I force my gaze back to Taustin. “I’ve agreed to your terms. Now let him go.”

  “Not yet.”

  He waves his free hand, and two outlanders come toward me. They seize my arms and pull me forward, forcing me to close the distance between us. Another stands at Taustin’s side with a small dagger in one hand and a dish of water in the other. It takes my numbed brain a moment to register what I’m seeing.

  Everything snaps into place, and I rear back against the hands restraining me. “You can’t be serious.” My eyes go wide. “Now?”

  “I see no reason to wait,” he replies. “Until the rite is complete, all I have is your word.”

  With another wave of his hand, the outlanders force me to kneel before him. I’m shoved to the ground, stones and twigs digging into my knees.

  My teeth grit against the pain. “I think my word has been solid up to this point.”

  “In matters of loyalty.” He slides his long, curved knife back into its holster at his side. “Matters of passion, however”—he looks at Ren, on his knees only five feet from me—“are quite different. I will not be satisfied until your word is met.”

  He takes the dagger the outlander holds, turning the blade to his palm. He slices into the meat of the heel, drawing dark red to the surface, then holds it over the dish of water and lets a long line of blood drain down. The outlander at my side holds another dagger out to me, waiting for me to take it. Taustin watches, pressing a piece of fabric to his cut. He wants me to cut my own hand—proof of my willingness to follow through on my word. It’s now or never.

  I take the small blade, testing its weight in my hand. It’s nothing special, but it’ll be the instrument I use to seal my fate. It’s strange how something so small can change a life forever. It should be heavier, but in my hand it’s nothing.

  My jaw clenches as I press the tip into my hand, stifling a grunt in the back of my throat as my palm fills with blood. The outlander next to Taustin holds the bowl out to me, and I tip my hand over it, adding my blood to the water.

  I glance up as my hand empties. “I thought this ceremony was more extensive—and required both of us to be on our knees.”

  “You are pledging your obedience to me. I am merely sealing the union.” He hands his dagger back to the outlander next to him. “Expediting the process, as it were.”

  The urge to retort surges through me, but I bite my tongue against it. He needs to believe I’m submitting to him of my own will. If I can’t fake it, my whole plan is screwed.

  The outlander at his side comes forward again and holds the bowl of water and blood between us. Taustin watches, waiting for me to take the initiative. More proof of my word.

  With a firm set to my jaw and going off my memory of the union ceremony, I reach my hand to the bowl and dip two fingers in. A wave of queasiness sweeps through me at the thought of having to touch Taustin’s blood, diluted by water and mixed with my own.

  A deep breath to settle the nerves twitching in my stomach doesn’t help, and I pull my fingers from the dish. There’s no blood on them, but I know it’s there, seeping in through my skin and polluting me. I touch my fingertips to my forehead, a shoulder, sternum, the other shoulder, and finally my forehead again. My defiance tries to take over as I look at Taustin with hard eyes. He lifts his head a fraction, looking down his nose at me. With an unblinking glare, I place my hand on its opposite shoulder and hold it level to the ground. Ren’s eyes are on me, and it takes every ounce of will power I have not to look at him.

  The man with the bowl lifts it to Taustin, who holds my glare with ease. He repeats my motions, dipping his fingers in the water and touching them to his body. When he places his hand on his shoulder, he takes a step toward me and waits. Like a slave following a silent command, I raise my hand and set it on his bent elbow. He does the same, clamping his cut hand on my arm. The warm stickiness of his blood makes me go rigid all over, and I have to concentrate on not gagging. The feel of his skin on mine gives me the urge to pull away and douse myself with bleach. Everything in me is revolting against this, and I have no choice but to endure it.

  The man conducting the “ceremony” circles us, dumping a little of the blood-water to the ground at our sides and behind each of us. When he finishes the circle, he tips the bowl between our linked arms, draining the rest of the contents to the ground. I wait, uncertain for what comes next, and the world around us has fallen silent.

  Taustin’s grip on my arm tightens. “You belong to me now.”

  I jerk back, pulling my arm free. His blood stains my skin, and I want to cut it out. “I did what you asked.” My voice seethes, my hate clear. I pull in an agitated breath, blinking at the burn in my eyes. “Now let him go.”

  His chin lifts, his mouth pulling to the side in a look of distaste.

  “So you did.” With his gaze still on me, he reaches down and removes a knife from its holster. “But how will it be perceived if I bow to your will?”

  My heart surges as cold stabs my stomach. I start to rise, but rough hands shove me back down. My muscles tense as adrenaline pours into my veins.

  “We had an
agreement,” I insist, my voice strained and rough. Panic surges through me, and I jerk against the hands holding me down. “You gave your word!”

  Taustin’s grip on the knife tightens. His eyes glint. “I lied.”

  My gaze flies to Ren as sheer terror overwhelms me, and the steady look in his eyes makes me feel like I’m falling.

  He knew. All along, he knew.

  Taustin’s face contorts, and he wheels around, the knife slicing through the air so fast it’s only a thin blur.

  Ren’s eyes go wide and his body turns rigid. He stares at me, not blinking, for what feels like an eternity. I scream but hear nothing.

  Then there is only red. Deep. Dark. It spills down his neck and over his chest, falling in dripping lines to the ground. It moves like it has a mind of its own, a predetermined path it’s racing down and a destination it’s desperate to reach. Ren draws a wet, ragged breath, and I swear it’s the air from my lungs he’s taking. In the next moment, his body follows the lines to the ground. His gaze doesn’t waver from mine, and I’m pulled down with him like the moon draws the tides.

  The depths of his eyes capture me, the strange steadiness in them holding me breathless for an instant, as if frozen in time. In this one moment, life leaves me and I am hollow.

  ****

  Time passes.

  I have no idea how long I’m on the ground with my arms stretched out to him. The world around me is silent and void of color, and I deflate farther into the ground as everything I am empties from me, as it did from him. If only I could follow him down. A thin voice in the back of my mind whispers for him to take me with. I could die right here, in this very spot, and I would welcome it. Maybe then I would be able to feel something.

  A shadow passes over him. And then I feel it.

  There. A fluttering, light and spasmodic in my chest. It grows stronger, starting to tingle behind my sternum like a slow-burning acid. It reaches my lungs, burning a hole into them.

  Breathe.

  I do. A small, shallow breath. A reminder I’m still alive.

  Everything comes crashing down.

  I gasp, desperate for air. My breaths are wheezing, mixed with a strangled sound that gets louder with each pull I take, and soon I’m screaming and sobbing out to him. But there’s nothing left of him. Blind, glassy eyes staring at me. Nothing more.

  My hysteria ends as abruptly as it came, and I see red again. Not the red of life, like when it left him.

  The red of pure, volatile bloodlust.

  Everything happens in a blur. Adrenaline surges through me, and I’m on my feet, lunging at Taustin with my fingers curved like talons. He stumbles back, raising his arm to fend me off. I rake my nails down any part of him I can reach, feeling a wicked sense of elation when I sink into the skin on his cheek and arm. A scream erupts from deep in my throat, the most animalistic sound I’ve ever made. It feels amazing.

  I claw and strike him in my rage until I’m wrenched away, flailing out to reach him again. I fight against the hands holding me back, thrashing like a wild animal out for the kill. I am.

  More hands clamp on to hold me back, and I’m forced to my knees again. I strain with everything I have until someone grabs the mass of my hair and yanks hard. It’s enough to snap me out my frenzy. My breaths come out in pants. I glare at Taustin as if I could strike him dead with a look. What I wouldn’t give to make that happen.

  He returns my glare, seething as he brings his fingers to the deep gouges I left in the side of his face. A wave of satisfaction rolls through me at his stunned look when he pulls his fingers back and finds them covered with blood. I thrill at the pieces of his skin under my fingernails.

  “You have fire in your blood—something Sianne lacked.” He wipes his bloody fingers across the front of his vest, leaving a gruesome mark like a badge. “I will enjoy harnessing it.”

  “Go to hell.” I grit my teeth, my breath shaking.

  He casts a lazy look down to Ren at his feet. With a contemplative expression, he puts his foot under Ren’s jaw and lifts his head a few inches to look at his blank face.

  “The formidable Ren,” he repeats himself, mocking, “brought down by the whim of a woman.” He shakes his head and pulls his foot away, letting Ren’s head drop. “Pathetic.”

  “You’re no better off.” My voice quivers.

  He looks at me.

  “You’ve lost your advantage.”

  He lifts a brow. “You think your wrath concerns me?”

  “You lied. Your word is worthless. There’s no reason I should uphold mine.”

  I was right. He was never going to keep up his end of the bargain. It doesn’t matter what I say or do. He’ll destroy the Laraek and anyone else in his way. We’re all as good as dead.

  Everything I’ve done has been for nothing.

  Contempt fills my words. “I won’t help you. You’ll never get the key.”

  His gaze narrows. “You are my mate now. You pledged yourself to me. If you refuse to obey, the penalty is death.”

  My muscles strain as I lean toward him, my words slow and measured. “I would rather die than submit to you.” A truth I’ve never felt more deeply in my life.

  His eyes widen a fraction, the long knife in his hand bouncing with his thoughts. He yanks the ball from Lasula’s hands, and my heart leaps into my throat as he holds it up before me.

  “As you wish.”

  The commotion of the Laraek behind me registers, but it doesn’t matter. Taustin tosses the ball to an outlander standing next to a fallen tree, who sets it on the trunk and lifts an axe.

  There’s no point in watching it fall. Instead I look to Ren, his gaze glassy and lifeless. My eyes shut, his face burned into my memory.

  The smashing crack of the ball being broke open explodes in my ears, and there’s nothing but the roar of my blood that rivals the crash of an ocean wave during a storm. White hot pain sears my chest, radiating up to the base of my skull, and red flashes behind my lids. The air is sucked from my lungs as my entire body constricts, tighter and tighter. I’m being pulled apart, then everything in me erupts and collapses at once.

  The world goes black and silent, and I release my last breath, glad to fade away.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Waves and darkness. The last vestiges of anything I have left. I wait for them to fade, too.

  I’ve let them all down.

  Leila. Her family will never know what happened to her. All they’ll ever find is her car, abandoned on that dirt drive in the woods, waiting for us. They’ll never get closure. Her boyfriend, Jason, might wonder if he did something to make her leave. He’ll be heartbroken.

  My father will be alone.

  When I was younger, I used to go downstairs late at night and find him sitting on the back porch with a cup of coffee, staring off into the dark. I always wondered what thoughts made him sit so still. I used to think he was remembering my mother, regretting he hadn’t had more time with her. Now I’ll be in his thoughts, too.

  The Laraek will have to prepare for war. They were counting on me, like they had my mother. But I’ve failed them, just as they believed she had. If they survive Taustin’s wrath, maybe they’ll find peace when the next elemental rises. Maybe they’ll believe that new bloodline to be stronger than the last. I hope they’re right.

  Is there a heaven or hell here? I’ve never given much thought to whether or not they exist, but it doesn’t matter. Fading away to nothing has its advantages. In the end, everything is just gone.

  If I do end up somewhere, I know I won’t find Ren there. He’s dead because of me. Fate wouldn’t allow us to find each other after what I did. I wish it would, just long enough for me to tell him I’m sorry. The universe would allow him that small amount of peace, wouldn’t it?

  Life isn’t fair, though. I don’t imagine death is much different.

  The waves undulate through me in the darkness. I wait for nothingness to sweep over me, to be rid of this grief. Am I supposed to be
counting my regrets? Do I need to remember my triumphs? My life wasn’t long enough to recall much. The one thing I can find to look back on with fondness is music. My favorite songs, the most moving melodies I’d heard. Music made me feel alive. Perhaps it can be what I carry with me to the end.

  A faint chord of sound rises within me, sending ripples out through the waves. I strain to catch it, but it fades as soon as it came. Then another, this time a little stronger, and its ripples bid me to follow them.

  Evan…

  The chord sighs my name in a breath of a whisper, so soft I almost can’t make it out. This must be it. It’s time to go.

  Evan…

  More ripples, but now the crests hold a faint shimmer of green, dissipating like steam evaporating into cold morning air.

  Evan…wake…

  No. There is no waking now. Only sleep.

  Wake…

  The ripples grow, the green shimmer becoming brighter and taking longer to fade. There’s blue in their valleys now, a beautiful shade of cerulean. It’s always been one of my favorite colors.

  Wake…

  The breathless whisper is stronger now, adding shades of pink and orange to the ripples. They’re growing larger, upsetting the waves and rocking at my buoyancy. Does death do this to everyone? Maybe this is my mind unraveling. I imagine everything disintegrates at this point, like sugar melting in tea.

  Evan, wake!

  An explosion of color erupts before me, and I can do nothing to shield myself from it. The colors coalesce and consume me, growing brighter and brighter until there’s only blinding light.

  Maybe there is a heaven after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Pain. Heat. Static.

  They fill me, every fiber of my being stretched taut to the point I’m being ripped apart. My blood is on fire, every cell in my body vibrating with energy so intense I’m amazed I don’t shatter. I can feel every beat of my heart, fast and strong. Alive.

  I’m alive.

  My lungs open and I gasp, drawing in as much air as possible. Blood rushes to my head with the force of a wrecking ball, and I squeeze my eyes against the immense pressure. In the next instant it’s gone, and my skin tingles all over, every part of my body charged like a live wire. My eyes fly open and color returns to me. Green and orange and yellow. Not the colors of ripples and waves melding in synchronicity. It’s the green of the tree canopy above me, the orange-yellow flicker of firelight. And the blackness of night.