✵ SWEETER THAN HONEY ― nikolai lantsov ✵

Yi

"This isn't your choice," Nadia tells him. "You've been fighting beside us and bleeding with us for months now. We deserve the chance to try and save your life."

"Even if you're a useless otkazat'sya," Zoya chimes in.

"Careful," Harshaw warns. "You're talking to the Darkling's. . . wait, what are you? His cousin? His nephew?"

Mal shudders. "I have no idea."

"Are you going to start wearing black now?'

"No."

"You're one of us," I tell him, "for worse or for better. And if Alina has to kill you, she might just lose herself in the process while also becoming the most powerful Grisha alive, and unfortunately, I don't like those odds."

"Then it will be up to Misha to stop her with the power of awful dancing," Genya chirps.

"She is pretty moody," Harshaw confirms. "Not totally there, if you know what I mean."

Nadia reaches out and nudges Mal's hand. "At least consider the plan. And if it all goes wrong―"

"Alina gets a new friendship bracelet to match with me," I finish humorlessly.

Alina's expression is pensive as she turns Tamar's plate in another circle. "It will take more than an explosion to kill the Darkling. He survived the Fold and the destruction of the chapel."

"Then what?" Harshaw asks.

"Let me do it."

The words fly out of my mouth.

Everyone turns to look at me, some expressions of surprise, some unreadable. Zoya's lips curve upwards ever so slightly and I swallow, repeating my words firmly.

"I'll do it, Alina." I meet her eyes.

"Are you sure this is for the best?" Genya asks, her amber eye filled with concern. "Your past with him. . . he might try to get in your head, Yi."

Mal furrows his brows. "Your past? What does that mean?"

I look down at the wooden table, running my fingers over its stains and divots. "It's not that important."

"I think it is," Mal counters, his tone not yet hostile but his eyes imploring.

I fold my arms. "When I met him, we were friends."

Alina raises her eyebrows. "What?"

"I befriended him," I state flatly, staring at Tamar's plate at the center of the table as I remember the day I first spoke to him.

You've grown soft, Yi.

"I sought him out after my experiences with the King. And he told me about his goal to create a safe place for all Grisha." I close my eyes. "He exploited my insecurities as a Fabrikator. He told me that everyone would be treated equally, that I should know how horrid it feels to be inferior. And I trusted him. And I. . ." I grimace slightly. "I may have opened up to him and shared a sob story while simultaneously breaking down into tears."

Alina winces. "Oh."

"Yeah," I say. "He comforted me and our interests were aligned and we seemed to agree on everything and I thought we were friends, like he was some kind of mentor to me. But that's in the past now, and I need to be the one to kill him."

Zoya leans back in her seat, folding her arms, and for a moment I'm afraid she's about to laugh at me, but instead she grins, her beautiful features seeming to glow despite the sickly light of the tavern. "Saints," she whispers. "You're no child anymore, Yi."