Pas de Trois
I stand still at his side. I’m not entirely sure what I want to ask him, what I want to tell him, what I want to do to him. But I just have to stand still for a moment as it happens—as the power that he always held over me pours from him with each breath, mingling with the air between us.
With each uneven breath I take, some of his power seeps into my lungs, swirling like a storm and punching my heart with lightning bursts that fortify me, strengthen me, embolden me. Our eyes remain locked as I willingly and gratefully take that power from him. “Why?”
Why did you choose me when I was eleven?
Why did you bring me partners you hated?
Why did you choose Ezra?
Why did you sell me?
Why did you risk everything to steal me back?
I take a step closer, knowing that he can hardly move, knowing that he can’t hurt me right now. “Why me? Why did you choose me to live this life of torment?”
I feel Ezra approach before I see him appear at my side. I hold up my hand to stop him because I need this exchange with Nikolai without interference, without the distracting pulse of Ezra’s pure goodness.
Nikolai lets a smirk curl up the corner of his lips. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”