Ruined - Amy Tintera Page 0,78
his hands bound together in front of him. His shoulder ached and burned, but he kept his expression neutral and walked in silence.
Emelina was next to him. Aren and the three male warriors were on the horses, and Iria walked beside them. She kept glancing back at him and Emelina.
He stole a quick look at Emelina. She wore the same dress she’d had on last time he saw her, but now it was smeared with dirt and grime and ripped in places. Her dark hair was pulled back, her expression grim. She’d cleaned his wound and spread some berol root on it without a word, and she’d barely acknowledged his presence since they’d started walking.
Guilt tore through his chest, and he hated her even more for making him feel it. The words had tumbled out of his mouth without him pausing to think about them—maybe my father was right to exterminate every last one of you—and Cas couldn’t stop replaying them in his head.
He hadn’t meant it. He knew, with absolute certainty, that his father had been wrong to kill the Ruined without cause. He’d killed them out of fear, and he’d died because of it. Even if Cas hated Emelina with every fiber of his being, he didn’t blame the entire Ruined species for her actions.
“What happened to the real Mary, Emelina?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“I killed her. When she was on her way to Lera.”
“You just killed her. Without provocation.”
“She killed my father and left his head on a stick for me to find. I wouldn’t say I wasn’t provoked.”
Cas swallowed, determined not to feel sorry for her. But he also didn’t feel particularly sorry he never had the chance to meet the real Mary.
“And it’s Em,” she said, quieter. “Most people call me Em.”
A flash of memory—I was educated at the castle with Em and Olivia—and Cas drew in a breath. “You knew Damian.”
“Yes. He was a friend.”
“And I let you argue to set him free. I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot. You were kind to him. You don’t know what that meant to me.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. He could have told her that he would do it again, because Ruined didn’t deserve to die simply for being magical, but he wasn’t in the mood to be nice to her. He kept his mouth shut.
“Do you have to walk so close to him?” Iria called over her shoulder. “It makes me nervous.”
“He’s not going to hurt me, Iria,” Em called, and Cas felt a surge of anger that she didn’t seem to think he was actually a threat to her.
Maybe because he’d squandered the opportunity to kill her. He could still see her face as he pointed his sword at her head. His blade had been locked in place, the terror at actually having to go through with murdering her making his stomach rise up into his throat. Even now, as he stared at the scratch on her neck where he’d nicked her, he felt a little sick.
He should have been able to kill her. He should have enjoyed it. She hadn’t just betrayed him, she’d made him care about her so thoroughly that he couldn’t even hate her properly. And now he was a hostage, injured and still at her mercy.
“I do want to apologize, Cas, for—” Em began.
“Don’t apologize to me,” he spat. “You’re not sorry. You manipulate people. You say and do what you think they want and then turn around and use it against them. Your apology means nothing to me.”
“Well, I’m apologizing anyway!” she yelled, making everyone turn around and stare at them.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry if I doubt the sincerity of an apology screamed at me.”
“I tried being nice. That just seemed to make you more angry.”
“When were you being nice? Was it somewhere between you taking me hostage and yelling at me?”
“I saved your life.”
He snorted. “Your bar for nice is awfully low.”
“I don’t—”
“Would you two be quiet?” Iria interrupted. “The entire jungle can hear you.”
Em shut her mouth, casting an angry look in Cas’s direction.
“I don’t accept the apology,” he whispered.
She took in a breath, like she was preparing to really let him have it. Then her body deflated, the last wisps of anger leaving her face as she shrugged.
“I understand. But I am sorry, Cas.”
He didn’t want her to understand. He didn’t want her to act all quiet and contrite. He wanted to see her being haughty and unashamed. He