Grace and Fury (Grace and Fury #1)(31)

Panting, she scaled a large rock fall and collapsed on the top. She brushed grit from her sore, blistered hands. No calluses yet. Before her, stretching to the horizon, the ocean glinted. Behind her, the caldera smoked.

There wasn’t another person in sight, not in any direction. Even the guard tower had disappeared, hidden by a fold in the land. Out here, she might as well be the only person on the island. The only person in the world.

Do what you like.

Oracle’s words pounded in her head. No one had ever said that to her before. Her life had been ruled by duty. And no one, not even the people she loved, had let her forget it.

She’d hoped that becoming a Grace would be her reward. But Nomi had been given the life Serina had always imagined for herself: a series of balls and concerts and delectable meals. Nomi was primped and pampered. Nomi slept in a soft bed in her own room. Nomi didn’t fear for her life every day.

Sometimes Serina wished Nomi had been the one caught with the book, that she’d been forced to pay for her own crime. On those days, Serina felt like the worst sister in the world. Who could wish a place like this on anyone, let alone someone you loved?

Today, all Serina could think about was Nomi’s bed, and how her sister had wanted Serina to sleep with her that first night in the palazzo. Serina’s only night in the palazzo. Nomi had needed her, and Serina had turned the other way. She thought about the morning after, when she could have given Nomi a hug or words of encouragement, and she hadn’t.

Serina was going to die here, one way or another. She would never see Nomi again. She could have told her little sister she loved her, that she was proud of her. And now she’d never have the chance.

With a sigh, Serina climbed down from the rock and started the slow trek back to the lava tube. The setting sun paced her, hovering just above the horizon, staining the edges of the guard tower red.

Serina heard a clatter of stones, just as a figure appeared from the scrub beside the path. The guard stepped in front of her, blocking her way, his narrow face cocked to the side.

“New or banished, I wonder,” he said, appraising her from head to toe. “No other excuse for you to be out here on your own.”

Serina didn’t like the calculation in his eyes. She lowered her gaze and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. A scratch on her forearm burned when the skin pulled taut.

“Excuse me,” she said, and moved to go around him, her heart trip-hammering in her chest.

He blocked her, stepping into her space. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he didn’t need bulk to frighten her. All it took was his hand on his firearm, and the way he moved so close, so fast. Like he was used to intimidating the prisoners here.

He leaned into her and murmured in her ear, “Your shoes are falling apart. Let me find you a pair of boots.”

One hand stayed on his firearm. The other rose to her shoulder, his fingers splaying against the side of her neck.

Every breath Serina took felt like a scream. What was she supposed to do? It was obvious what this man wanted in exchange for boots, and she didn’t want to give it to him.

She was unwilling.

But when had that ever mattered before?

It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been chosen as a Grace.

For the first time, Serina really understood what Nomi had meant that night in the palazzo, when she’d said it wasn’t a choice if you weren’t allowed to say no. Serina had chosen to be willing, to want the Heir. But it wouldn’t have mattered if she hadn’t.

And it didn’t matter now.

“I—I don’t want any boots,” she stuttered, unable to force her voice out louder than a whisper. She tried to take a step back, but he held her fast, his hand on the curve of her throat.

“Yes,” he said, his fingers digging into her skin. “You do.”

Serina closed her eyes. Her breath came in gasps.

“She doesn’t want the boots, Bruno,” a voice rang out. There was a grunt and a thud. Free from the guard’s hand, Serina stumbled backward.

She opened her eyes. Bruno was on the ground, legs akimbo. Petrel stood over him. “She’s Cave crew,” she said, staring him down. “And she said no.”

Bruno scrambled to his feet, his narrow face reddening. “You better watch yourself,” he growled, but Petrel laughed in his face.

“You know where Oracle draws the line,” she said.

He spit at her feet before heading back into the scrub, toward the guard tower.

Petrel turned back to Serina. “Are you okay?”

Serina nodded, mutely, even though she wasn’t. Her heart still pounded in her chest, and a headache filled her skull with flames. Petrel had hit that guard. She had stopped him. “What is Oracle’s line?” Serina asked, her voice still faint and shaky.

Petrel swung an arm around Serina’s shoulders and drew her along the path. “The system is delicate here. In the ring, the guards have all the power. But out here, split up in their patrols and towers… out here we can sometimes fight back. Oracle doesn’t tolerate the guards forcing themselves on us.” Petrel smiled reassuringly. “Most of the guards leave us alone now. Bruno’s stupid. He won’t last long here.”

Serina’s hands shook. She stared down at her feet, scrambling along the rough path. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Petrel squeezed her shoulder before letting her arm fall to her side. “You fight back. Always.”