Legendary
“I can’t believe you did this for me.” She looked up from Legend’s wounded palm to his beautiful face. “I think that means you’re the hero after all.”
His expression darkened at the word hero, as if it was something he’d rather not be called. But she didn’t care. He was her hero.
Tella could still barely move her limbs, but she managed to wrap a hand around the back of Legend’s neck as the first of many fireworks burst into the sky. She heard them shimmer and pop as she leaned in closer and bought his full mouth down to hers. At first his lips didn’t move. Panic tore through her that something was wrong, that perhaps he regretted what he’d done. Her lips moved more tentatively, about to pull away, when he softly kissed the corner of her mouth.
Maybe he’d been afraid of hurting her before.
He was impossibly gentle as he kissed her again; hands barely stroking her waist as his lips slowly traveled along her jaw and then down her neck. So light it was almost painful. It was the delicate sound of music, the distant crash of ocean waves; there but still too far away. Tella wanted to erase the distance. It should have felt like the beginning of something, but somehow it felt like the end. As if every feather-light press of his lips was an unspoken good-bye.
More fireworks exploded above, gold and violet and brighter than before.
She tightened her grip around his neck, trying to hold on to him and this moment, but he was already pulling away as he lowered her toward the steps.
“What’s wrong?” Tella asked.
“I need to leave.” His gaze shuttered, his lips moved into a severe line, and then he let her go, completely. He set her weak body down, abandoning her atop the cold moonstone steps. “Good-bye, Tella.”
Her stomach went hollow. If she’d been standing her legs might have crumbled.
He was striding away. Leaving her.
“Wait—where are you going?”
He continued down the steps.
For a moment she feared he wouldn’t turn back around. But it was almost worse that he did. His eyes, which earlier had been so heated, so full of emotion, didn’t glitter or shine or spark any longer. They were flat, black, and growing colder with every heartbeat like the fading fireworks above. “There’s somewhere else I need to be. And, no matter what this looks like, I’m still not the hero in your story.”
Something cracked inside of Tella. It might have been her heart, breaking while he walked away—as if he hadn’t just freed the Fates and damned the entire world for her.
42
The steps beneath Tella were cold, but not nearly as icy as the heartless boy who’d left her there. She’d been left by boys before, but it had never hurt this much. She wanted to get up, to walk away with her head high, as if he mattered as little to her as she apparently mattered to him. But Tella’s limbs still felt like paper, weak and thin and pathetic.
A dramatic sigh cut through the chorus of fireworks still crackling above. Then Jacks was sauntering up the stairs, shaking his head as he walked. He looked as if he’d dressed up and then gotten into a scuffle. His fitted jacket was covered in swirls of frayed gold embroidery. The cream shirt beneath it might have looked fine if the lace hadn’t been ripped from the cuffs and the collar. Two of the buttons near his neck were missing as well. “I told you it was a bad idea to put yourself in a card.”
“How do you know that’s what happened?” Tella asked.
“I’m a Fate. I know things.”
She tried to shove herself into a more dignified position, but her limbs remained firmly planted against the cold stone. “Did you know this would happen all along?”
“It was one possibility.” Jacks continued his lazy climb. If he was disappointed that he’d missed Legend, his voice gave no indication. His handsome face appeared unreadable. It looked perfectly indifferent, save for the tiny wrinkle in between his brows. “Pining doesn’t look good on you.”
“I’m not pining. I’m angry,” Tella said. Jacks was the last person she wanted to pour her heart out to, but given that he was the only one there and that her heart was already cracked wide open, it was impossible to hold the words back. “Half the reason I put myself in that card was so you wouldn’t take his powers or kill him. And then he just left me here on these steps.”
“Did you honestly expect more from Legend?”
Maybe she hadn’t expected more from Legend, but she’d wanted more from Dante. How could someone who’d given up everything he’d worked for just abandon her? And why had he bothered to kiss her back? He should have let her go the minute she’d pressed her lips to his.
“You’re definitely pining.” Jacks’s mouth twisted in disgust.
“Stop judging me. It only looks that way because I can’t move. If I could, I wouldn’t be lying here. I’d be with my mother.”
“So you know where she is?” Jacks drawled.
Tella scowled. “Don’t you have something better to do? Shouldn’t you be off celebrating with all the other Fates that Legend just freed?”
“See how weak you are after being inside a card for a handful of minutes? The other Fates were trapped for centuries. They might be out of the cards, but, at the least, it will take weeks before any of them, or your mother, are strong enough to open their eyes. Once they do wake up, they still won’t be at their full powers because of Legend.”
“So then why aren’t you off plotting how to get the rest of your magic back from him?”
“Who says I’m not?” Jacks’s smile was all dimples, the sharp ones she’d seen the first time they’d met. She hated them now as much as she did then. Dimples were supposed to be charming and kind, but his always felt like a form of attack.
Tella’s arms and legs still weren’t working, but she managed to glare in return. “Leave.”
“Fine. But I’m taking you with me.” In one agile move Jacks scooped her up, lean arms far stronger than they looked.
“What are you doing?” Tella screeched.
“I’m taking you to your sister. Don’t waste your feeble energy fighting.”
If only Tella could have fought him. But she didn’t have the strength and she was so tired of fighting. Her battle had died on those steps the moment Legend walked away. All she wanted now was for the night to end and for the sun to return, so that when she looked up at the sky she’d no longer see all the bleeding stars and think of Legend. Her one triumph was that her mother was free, but until Tella saw her in the flesh, it would still feel as if she was missing.
“Are you crying?” Jacks asked.
“Don’t you dare criticize me for it.”
His hands tensed. A flash of cold kissed Tella, a reminder of Jacks before his heart had started beating again. “If you’re crying about Legend, don’t. He doesn’t deserve it. But if this is about the cards”—Jacks looked down on her, and for a lightning-brief moment all the indolence and carelessness left his expression—“I did the same thing. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t cry.”
“I thought you weren’t human.”
“I’m not. But there was a time when I was. Thankfully it didn’t last too long,” he added, but Tella thought she heard a hint of regret.
She craned her neck to look up at him. He met her gaze and she swore his softened with something akin to concern, his silver-blue eyes tipped down, teardrops about to fall.