Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(119)

Finn could barely hear the prince swearing behind her. All sounds were muffled. This was it, then. Live as a dark-eyed demon or die at his hands. The choices ahead of her weren’t choices at all, but the very same fate dressed as differing options—whether she became one of Ignacio’s black-eyed minions or turned to dust, either way she’d be dead.

The only real choice left was to end her life believing what the prince had believed—that she could be better, if given the chance.

“I’ll do it,” Finn heard herself say.

The look of sheer satisfaction on Ignacio’s face made her stomach twist. “Very good girl.”

Finn walked to where Alfie was pinned to the wall, each step tearing at her heart. When she stood before him, the prince looked like he could barely breathe.

“Finn, I don’t know what will happen to you if—”

“I don’t know either,” she said. “But he might let you go and maybe you’ll have the chance to end this.” It was a silly hope, but hope was all they had left now.

“No.” His whole body was rigid with refusal. “I’m the one who started this. We’ll fight him, we’ll die together. But I won’t let you take this alone.” His eyes met hers, and they were such a rich gold that you would expect them to leak honey instead of tears. “You don’t have to do this,” he pleaded. “You don’t owe me, or anyone.”

For a moment, Finn could only look at him. A smile curved her lips. “Alfie,” she said. It was the first time she’d said his name, and she was struck by the wish that she’d spent the last day saying it over and over again. “All my life I’ve been made to do things I didn’t want to do. This isn’t one of them. I’m doing this because a friend got stuck in my door and asked for help.”

A sound parted his lips, one that spoke of something already broken shattering even smaller. He fought against his restraints and leaned closer to her. His warm breath ghosted across her face as he tipped his forehead against hers. “I won’t be able to save you if you do this.”

She offered him a wry smile, a meager gift in the face of what was to come. “We’ve already almost died a couple of times today. What’s one more?”

Alfie closed his eyes. “One more could be all that’s left.”

Ignacio sighed. “You know I’m not a patient man, Finny.”

Finn wished she would never have to hear his voice again. One way or another, tonight that wish would come true.

Alfie looked at her, his eyes moving over her face the way a child’s fingers ran over a flower’s petals, slow and careful. He looked at her as if to memorize Finn as she was now, as she would no longer be as soon as this magic took her. With the dragon figurine around his neck, he needed only give the command.

“Take her,” he said, his voice breaking around the words. The magic poured out of the dragon in a tendril of black.

The stream of obsidian magic reared back like a snake before darting forward at her chest, pouring into her heart. She felt it surging through her veins, singeing her inside and out. It was as if she were housing the sun itself. As it lanced through her, Finn refused to do what Ignacio had said. She refused to turn to the part of her who had killed for him, who left others behind without a thought, the part of her who believed she was monstrous enough to house this magic. Instead, she clung to the look on the prince’s face—a look of anguish that could only come from losing someone worth having. Someone too good to carry this evil inside of her.

There was no doubt in her mind that she would die in a mere moment, extinguished by the dark magic like a candlewick between wet fingertips. But if you could die in a moment, then maybe you could live in one too. And if she could choose a moment to suspend, to hold gently between her palms, she thought, it might be this one: with the prince’s eyes on hers and the knowledge that she was not who Ignacio had said she was. She was herself.

She bit back a scream, maddeningly full of power. Finn hunched forward, her hands on the ground, her fingers curling against the ballroom floor as she waited to shatter, to burn into nothing, to finally live in a world where Ignacio could not find her. Then she went still. The pain stopped and there was only immense power.

“Finn?” she heard the prince say, his voice thick with hope and fear.

She opened her eyes and by the look on his face, she knew her eyes had blackened. Yet, somehow, she still was of her own mind. Shock and relief burst inside of her, flowing under her skin like a cool stream. She was still herself. She didn’t know how long that would last, but she was still here.

“Try to get free and wake up Xiomara. Stay out of the way,” she said before turning her back on his surprised face and striding down the ballroom to meet Ignacio at its center. No matter how much time she had left, she would use it to take Ignacio down with her. For herself and for her parents, she would put him in his grave.

“Finally,” Ignacio sighed as his black eyes found hers. “Like father, like daughter. You’re mine to guide once more. Now, kill the boy.”

His words were the pull of a weak current. She walked through them.

Ignacio’s eyes narrowed. “I said kill the boy, Finn.”

She was tired of listening. She took off in a run toward him, her fists raised.

Ignacio gave a sharp laugh—half delighted joy and half fury. “Of course. You’ve always been a maldito fighter, but I’ve always been able to break you.”