Chapter Eleven: Luke

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Chapter Eleven: Luke

            We fled, scarcely daring to retrieve our things from the inn before bolting from the town. For a long time, there was silence between us. I didn’t know what to say to the stranger next to me, and she seemed torn, somehow, though I couldn’t begin to fathom why, after the flat, clinical way she’d informed me that she’d killed her husband.

            I watched her warily from the corner of my eye, but she knew what I was doing. I caught her biting her lip as she watched me watching her with distrust written clearly across my face.

            “Luke,” she said finally when we stopped for the night, her voice breaking on my name with pain I tried desperately to ignore. I could not feel anything for her, just as she couldn’t feel anything for me. I was too far gone to be cared for.

            It had been hours since words passed her lips, and now it was as though a great dam had been broken down and they all poured out at once.

            “I was not entirely honest with you beforehand. My name is not Melaena, as I said, but Adelena. Adelena…Nox.”

            She choked on the second name like it left a bad taste in her mouth to say it. I watched her coldly, refusing to let my control be shattered again. I recognized the infamous last name.

            Please don’t say it, I pleaded silently. Don’t tell me—

            “I was married to Vicenzo Nox,” she said, confirming all my worst fears in six words.

             “Before or after the massacres in Sorabia?” I asked, pinning her with a hard look.

            She swallowed hard. “After,” she admitted in a soft voice.

            I stood and walked across the clearing, unable to look at her anymore.

            “Luke…” she said, her voice breaking again. “I didn’t know.”

            I laughed humorlessly. “And I didn’t know my sister was alive for two years. We didn’t get word that they were safe for two goddess-damned years full of dread and hoping against our will that the waiting would just end.”

            Her breathing hitched before she managed to reply. “Just give me a chance to explain.”

            “And why should I?” I gazed out at the trees without seeing anything, too numb to focus on the greenery.

            “Because you feel something for me, like I feel something for you.”

            I turned to face her, wishing instantly that I hadn’t. Even with tears streaked across her face, she was captivating, ensnaring my heart with ease.

            “And what makes you think that I feel anything for you?” I asked hoarsely.

            “Because you’re still here now,” she said softly, “even after you know what I am.”

            “I don’t think I really do know what you are, Melaena…Adelena. Whatever your name is now.”

            She laughed hollowly. “The irony is, I’m not sure I know any more than you do.”

            “Just tell the damn story, Adelena,” I said quietly.

            She swallowed hard. “When I married…Vicenzo…I was fifteen. My…my father pushed for the marriage. He wanted the connection. Vicenzo was handsome and kind to me, and I admired him. But you have to believe me, Luke, I didn’t know. I didn’t know what he was capable of…not then.”

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