The Offering Page 64

Which meant . . . Sabara . . .

She was gone too.

I wanted to rejoice, but before I had the chance to revel in those feelings, I saw Xander, and a different kind of joy coursed through me. Not one born of an enemy’s demise, but one of true, unadulterated relief.

“Xander,” I breathed, trying to sit upright.

Brook was still shackled but was no longer being restrained, and she rushed forward, helping me up.

Xander stood above me, grinning. “You’re alive.”

I took him in. His pale skin, the blood on his hand, the bandage where his other should have been. He’d never looked so good. “You, too.” I beamed.

And then he toppled over.

A girl shot forward then, rushing to Xander’s side. I tried to place her face—the freckles, the soft brown hair. There was something eerily familiar about her.

And then I knew. She was Elena’s sister. I’d met her once before, in Vannova.

“Sage,” I accused, glancing nervously to Brook. “She’s . . . she—”

“Saved you,” Brook finished. “Saved all of us.”

Sage eased Xander’s head down, gently, carefully. “He’s sick,” she said over her shoulder, ignoring my misgivings and the fact that we were talking about her. “His fever’s back.” She glanced to one of the soldiers who’d survived the massacre inside the tent. “Go. Fetch a doctor. And tell no one that my sister is dead. I still need to decide how to handle this.”

The soldier did as she instructed, and I wondered at how quickly the tides had turned. Unless I’d miscalculated, this girl was their queen now.

I thought of her sister, and how she’d conspired against me. I thought of Sabara, too, and how she’d only needed royal blood to make the transfer.

Sage had that blood.

I dropped my voice, not really caring if Sage overheard my question. “Are you sure she’s not . . . that Sabara didn’t . . .” I indicated the princess with a suspicious look, making it clear what I meant.

Brook shook her head, but it was Sage who answered. “Only my sister would be stupid enough to try something so reckless. She couldn’t bear the fact that she was—different from all the others. Niko played upon her weakness. He knew exactly which nerves to strike. He knew how to play on her insecurities.”

“Different? How?” I asked, getting to my feet now. The inside of my throat was irritated and felt bruised.

A sly smile spread over Sage’s lips, and I couldn’t help noticing that she wasn’t overly saddened by her sister’s demise. “You didn’t know? Sabara never shared my sister’s deep dark secret with you?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, but her impish smile grew. “My sister was impotent. She was an anomaly in the royal bloodline. She may as well have been born a male, for all the power she was blessed with.”

I frowned, trying to absorb the meaning of her words. “Are you saying . . . that she didn’t have any power at all?” “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And it killed her. She tried to hide the fact for years, teaching herself parlor tricks and dabbling in the black arts, hoping to fool people into believing she’d been gifted with sorcery. But after a while, when it became clear she could do nothing useful, she stopped trying. She envied me, and every other royal who had an ability. She felt like a freak.” Sage shrugged. “Which I suppose she was. What kind of queen has no power?” She stopped talking then and knelt low, pressing her cheek to Xander’s, concern replacing her mischievous air. “He’s burning up.” She looked to the other soldier, as if he might know something. “Where’s that doctor?” she questioned.

When the tent flaps flew open, all eyes shot that way, but it wasn’t the doctor coming to nurse Xander back to health.

It was Max.

My heart stopped, and everything inside me strained to be near him.

I didn’t hesitate long enough to consider anything else, like whether he hated me for leaving in the middle of the night the way I had. All I knew was how badly I’d missed him, and how much I needed him. And that he was here. Now.

I crossed the space in one breath, and was in his arms in the next, practically throwing him off his feet as I hurled myself against him.

His scent was that of wet earth and pungent sulfur. It enveloped me, as did his arms.

His lips, however, tasted like home.

I got lost in that taste, wrapping myself around him in turn, and curling my fingers through the soft, damp hair at the base of his neck. His armor was rigid, but his body managed to find mine and fit itself against me. My entire body tingled, but in a whole new way. I suddenly wished we were all alone, away from here, so I could show him how badly I’d missed him.

When he drew away, it was just far enough so I could see the dirt and ash that covered his forehead and cheeks, and I was certain I’d been equally smudged by it.

“You look terrible,” I breathed, unable to keep a smile from my lips.

“And you,” he said, his mouth still so close to mine, “are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

My heart hammered once at the sound of his words. And then once more when he lowered his head and kissed me again.

“Ahem.” I heard. And then again, but this time with a nudge to my side. “A-hem.” It was Brook, of course, waiting for us to notice her.

I sighed into Max’s mouth as I reluctantly dragged myself from his embrace.

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