Control (Book Seven) (Fated Saga Fantasy Series) (34 page)

They had all
nearly died today.

Well, Meghan felt as though she had nearly died
, even though she was immortal and could not.

They had nearly lost Colin today.
If it hadn’t been for Catrina, he might have crossed a line he could not return from.

They had
lost Jae, he had returned to Juliska... Meghan couldn’t handle thinking about what might be happening to him right now.

She let Ivan
wander off, hoping it wasn’t a mistake to do so.

“He’ll be fine,” said Sebastien.
“Give him a little space. He probably just needs to think about things. Plus, he’s got that whole ‘
not liking to show emotion’
thing.”

“Yeah, he’s d
efinitely got that,” she agreed. “He’s getting better at it, though,” she noted as they continued walking.

“Oh, hi,” they heard a voice say. They looked up to see Maria coming towards them.

“Maria, hello,” replied Meghan. “I take it everyone is back?”

“Yes,” she answered apprehensively.

“They are probably really angry at me, aren’t they?”

“There was a little
of that going around. Everyone is in a meeting,” she added.

“This late?”
asked Sebastien.

“I guess n
o one could sleep. I got... antsy, needed some air,” she admitted. “Not to be mean, but you guys look dreadful.” Her voice held only concern for their condition.

“You
know, Maria,” said Meghan, “I would really like to explain it all, but I just don’t have it in me right now to do so.”

“I understand, really, I do. Are you all okay?”

“More or less.”

“Um...” Maria paused, looking like she wanted to ask something.

“If you’re wondering about Ivan,” guessed Meghan, “he just took off that way,” she pointed.

“Oh. Okay, well, good night.”

Maria sped off.

Meghan was actually glad everyone was in a late meeting.
She wasn’t quite ready to face anyone yet. Explaining what had happened was something she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready for. Something stirred in the pit of her stomach. Something she needed to be alone for.

“Sebastien, I
need to go home now.”

“
Do you want me to walk you home? It’s on the way to my house anyway,” he added, as if it were no big deal.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” she said.

They walked, an awkward silence falling over them.

Meghan could not recall the last time she had been alone with Sebastien.
At least, when she knew it was him, and he was in his human form and not bird form, spying on her.

The p
it in her stomach was expanding, the events of the night weighing her down, crushing her. Like there was a weight on top of her body too heavy for her to move.

She reached where Arnon and Kanda were staying and stopped at the front door. “Good night, Sebastien,” she said, barely audibly.

“Yeah. I’ll see you.” He started to walk away and then stopped and turned.

Me
ghan held up her hand. “Not tonight. Whatever you want to say, I’m sorry, it needs to wait.
Don’t
give up telling me, just, not tonight.”

He nodded, tossed her
a sympathetic smile and slipped away. She hadn’t said no. And he knew the timing was bad. It was just the first time he’d had her alone to even think about speaking to her. To really apologize for everything he’d ever done, to explain why he’d kissed her, and to ask her the one question he desperately wanted to know: if she’d ever be able to forgive him?

Meghan stepped inside and shut the door behind her. As hoped
, after speaking with Maria, no one was home. This fact could not have come at a better moment.

She let her head fall forward, tears forming
.

It was too much.

It was all just too much.

This world wanted more than she had to give.

Prophecy or no prophecy, she had nothing more to give.

She should feel happy. Part of the job was done! The Grosvenor had b
een defeated, minus her father, a heartless man she wished was dead. Colby had seen the truth and freed Aloyna; maybe there was hope for him yet. She could not even think about Colin...

She slid to the floor, head in
hands, wondering if she’d ever feel as though she could step foot back into the world again.

##

Ivan wandered, what he thought was aimlessly, until he found himself in front of a familiar door. He stood in front of it, unable to bring himself to knock.

“If you don’t knock
, I can’t answer,” a voice startled him from behind.

He turned
around, Maria gasping at the sight of him.

“Wh-what happened
to you guys?”

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
He could not formulate the night into words. He was glad it was dark. Glad she couldn’t see him too clearly.

“
Come with me,” she told him. “For starters, we need to find you some new clothes. Yours are wrecked.”

She pulled him into
the house and into a room near the back.

“Good thing we’ve got some extra stuff here. The people have been very generous, given us more than we could possibly need.” She rifled through the boxes, searching for something that might fit him.

She turned to hold up a shirt and noticed he hadn’t moved.

“Ivan,” she said clearly. “There’s a wash basin right behind you.”

He nodded, turned and startled himself upon seeing a mirrored reflection.

Whose face was he looking at? He didn’t recognize himself.

He stepped up to the basin, peeling off the remainders of his jacket and shirt, letting them slip to the floor. He leaned over the basin and splashed the cool water onto his face. When he opened his eyes, his skin was cleaner, the blood from his cheek was gone, but he still didn’t recognize the face in the mirror.

W
ho was this person staring back at him?

He felt Maria’s delicate touch on his shoulder and
turned to see she’d found a set of clothes for him.

Maria lost her grip, letting the clothes fall.

What she saw in his eyes caught her breath. She reached up, stroking his face affectionately.

“A hundred years of worry,
in twenty year old eyes,” she whispered. “That’s what I see when I look at you.”

He closed his eyes, lost in her touch.
He had never wanted human touch before. Never desired it.

But he did want it
now. He craved it.

After almost dying that
night, he had felt it, deep within the very pit of his soul. He wanted to live, to leave his past behind and find the strength to survive the future.

He wanted to love.

He wanted a completely human connection.

An intimately human connection.

He let out an unsteady breath, opening his eyes.

Maria’s stared back into his.

He didn’t pull away.

S
he encouraged him closer, realizing now what she could offer Ivan that no one else could. She could be his anchor, the one thing he could trust never to change. His very own private piece of stability in an ever-changing and chaotic world.

Ivan
embraced Maria as if his life depended on it, leaning his forehead onto hers, their lips not quite touching.

His
chest ached. His entire being ached. He didn’t know if he could give in. Wouldn’t giving in just lead to more heartache, more pain and more confusion?

She felt his res
istance and pulled him to her.

“You do not
have to carry the weight of the world alone, Ivan Crane.”

Her words melted ove
r him evaporating all remaining fear.

Ivan had found his reason to live.

He lifted his arm, flicked his wrist, closing the door.

Locking them inside, shutting a
way the world he needed to leave behind. 

Deciding to live.

Determined to survive
.

A
nd choosing to love.

##

Colby took an anxious breath and stepped inside his home.

He’d gotten Aloyna to a safe location and had just
now returned.

He heard
footsteps crunching against glass down the corridor.

His father was home
.

He knew what Colby had done.

Colby had questions. A lot of them. And this time, his father wa
sn’t going to get away with vague answers.

He kept
his stride strong, his gaze determined.

His father was standing just ahead, his back to Colby, kicking glass shards against the wall.
Without looking at his son, he asked, “What happened here?” His voice was surprisingly calm.

Colby swallowed hard, about to speak, when his father turned
and looked him in the face.

Courage disappeared, replaced by guilt.

“As I expected,” his father’s displeased voice responded.

Colby stepped closer, trying to regain his hardened
stance. He still needed answers to questions his father was going to answer.

Fazendiin, a few feet away from his son, unexpectedly reached out and
with great force, slapped Colby across the face, knocking him to the floor.

“You insolent fool!” his father spat at him.

Colby clambered back to his feet. His father had never hit him before. He had threatened, but had never done it.

Colby
couldn’t find his voice. He could not look at his father.

His
thoughts, which just moments ago were focused, clear, and ready for answers, dissolved into candid realization. He no longer needed to ask his father if he had cursed Aloyna into the glass. He knew it to be true.

Did that mean everything else was true? Not just what they had seen in the blood vision, but
also the prophecy his father had kept hidden from him.

Aloyna claimed
the prophecy was a lie anyway, but still, his father did not know this fact. A fact Colby decided to make his own secret.

“You have no idea what you’ve do
ne here today,” his father scolded, disappointment evident.

Colb
y stammered out his words. “You swore almost daily that you’d find a way to free her.”

“She deserved her punishment.”

“You never told
me
that! You never told
me
what she did! If you hated her so much, why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Part of her punishment,” Fazendiin replied heartlessly.

“Her punishment? No. It was mine!” Colby argued.

His father scowled.

“You made me believe that the Svoda had cursed her into the glass. I felt sorry for her. For you! You made
me
believe that you loved her. That she deserved to be free. And that the Svoda deserved our vengeance. How is that
not
punishing me?”

When his father did not respond
he added, “You made me kill Jasper Thorndike, the man she loved.”

“She was
never
supposed to be set free,” Fazendiin finally spouted. “She should have spent an eternity wallowing in self pity. Her only friend in this place being
you
...”

“So you had
me kill Jasper out of spite, to what? Make her hate me?”

“I had you kill Ja
sper for his power,” his father asserted. Fazendiin’s eyes flashed fury. His son knew more than he had hoped.

“
You never stopped to think about what it would do to me though, did you? What else are you keeping from me?” demanded Colby.

His father
did not reply.

“I listened in,” Colby revealed
. “On your little rant earlier to my sister and her friends. You told me you’d found out about her months ago, and the truth is, you knew she existed the moment she was born.” Colby’s voice grew stronger, more confident.

Fazendiin looked at his son.

His creation.

His greatest and most powerful asset.
One he could not lose.

“You know what,”
continued Colby. “You are such a hypocrite!”