did before. I simply felt empty as his blood drenched the earth. And then I saw him rise up in his shadowed form afterwards. That was when the reality of it hit me…that Devina was gone. That my parents were gone. That I had lost everyone that I loved in a single moment. That not even killing the ones responsible could fill that ache inside me.”
Then Mala had appeared in my life, filling that void with something else entirely—with self-hatred and disgust and rage and grief and sex. Judging by the look that crossed Vienne’s face, I knew she’d pieced together that information herself.
“I’m so sorry, Davik,” Vienne said, her voice husky from her tears. “I’m so sorry.”
I locked eyes with Devina, but saw she was already fading. Her appearances were becoming shorter and shorter. She hadn’t spoken this time. Wherever it was that was beginning to pull at her, to take her away…I wanted her to go. Even if it meant losing her all over again. I wanted her to find peace. Finally. After so many years.
“My sister had a pure soul,” I said. “She was the best of us. She always teased me about that. I hated it then but I always knew she spoke the truth. And…and I know she will always be with me. Even if it is not in the shadows. She will find peace. I can already feel it within me…and we were always tied to one another.”
Devina’s lips curled, her eyes glowing.
“Remember her as she was, Davik,” Vienne whispered to me. “Not that night. But every day and night that had come before it.”
“Lysi,” I rasped, watching as Devina faded…
I inhaled a quick breath when she disappeared again.
Gone.
Something told me that I would never see her in the shadows again. I would only see her in memories…or in dreams.
The grief would come at that realization. However, mostly I felt relief. There was a special bond, a special kind of magic, in twins. It was that bond that had tied us to one another, that had kept Devina close to me even in death.
Now maybe we could both heal that wound that had festered for too long. It had been like vovic in our veins, poisoning us both, keeping us prisoners and trapped, so we could not move on from that night.
When Vienne’s eyes found mine, she whispered, “Thank you for telling me.”
Pressing my forehead to hers, I let out a shuddering breath between us, closing my eyes. In the quiet, I could hear the thumping of her heartbeat, strong and certain.
One day, I would see Devina again. I would see my mother and my father again. Vienne would see her father and grandmother again. See Lokkaru again. I took comfort in that.
But we were in this world now. Together.
The sounds of my horde began to pierce the haziness in my mind. The memories of Dothik, of that night, gave way to the feel of Vienne in my arms, her warmth against me, the gentle scraping of pyroki claws into the earth, the scent of which floated up to me, fragrant and rich. Overhead, the stars shone bright, ancient constellations illuminating the sky.
The air was fresh and crisp. Vienne’s heart beat steadily against me.
And when she looked up at me, her gaze more luminous than the stars?
This was what peace felt like.
Chapter Fifty-Three
“What are you thinking of, leikavi?”
Davik’s quiet voice pierced the silence that had built between us.
After he’d told me of his sister, we’d returned to the voliki. Davik had held me against him in the washing tub, though I’d already bathed earlier, and though my arms had shook with the effort, I’d helped him wash his hair and scrub his skin clean. His eyes had been on me the entire time, careful and observant.
Now, we lay in our bed of furs, my cheek pressed to his chest. I listened to the solid thump of his heartbeat as his clawed fingers trailed down my naked back. I’d lost a lot of weight during the week. I felt my raised bones meeting his touch.
We had hardly spoken in the bath. I was still struggling to process the horrific tragedy that had fallen upon Devina—and his mother and father—that had fallen upon him.
As he asked the question, I heard the hesitation in his voice.
It only occurred to me then that my silence might have been misinterpreted as discomfort or wariness.
“Davik,” I breathed, knowing what he thought. As if on instinct, I tried to gather the