The Blood Traitor (Prison Healer, #3)

by Lynette Noni

A weighty pause fell, before the man — Galdric — asked, “What are your orders, my queen?” Only then did Tilda Corentine’s emerald eyes lock with his, silent understanding passing between her and her closest friend, her most trusted adviser, as she whispered her answer. As she begged for his help. And then, with their heads bent together, they came up with a plan.

“You once told me I was strong and powerful and I could survive anything. That I owed it to myself to find a reason to live. Now I’m telling you the same, Kiva Meridan.”

“You are who you choose to be,” Cresta declared in a hard voice. “You are what you choose to be. And right now, you need to choose to live. You can figure out the rest later.”

She heard Jaren’s final words to her: How . . . could . . . you? She heard Caldon’s dead-sounding warning: You need to run. She heard Tipp’s wobbling, tear-filled accusation: You’re a C-Corentine? And then she saw her sister’s smug face, her moon-pale skin and honey-gold eyes laughing as her damning words repeated endlessly in Kiva’s mind: Well done, sister. I couldn’t have done this without you.

“No man should be able to lord his power over those weaker than him.

“There’s no such thing as beyond repair,” the ex-quarrier stated firmly. “You’re breathing, aren’t you? You’re still alive — that means you can fix what you’ve broken.”

We can look at the darkness and let it consume us, or we can recognize that it’s only temporary, trusting that once it passes, the light will return,”

“Everyone deserves to have someone fight for them, even — and especially — when they’re unable to fight for themselves. You did that for me, once. You fought for me, you saved my life, and I’ve hated you every day since because it meant that I then had to make the same choice: to fight, and to keep fighting, day after day. And that’s hard. It’s exhausting and it’s painful and it hurts. But I eventually realized that it’s also a part of life, and it will all be worth it one day. I have to believe that — for me, and for you.”

“Life is worth living, even the parts that make us feel like we want to die.

“My name isn’t Brynn — it’s Ashlyn.

I’ve never met anyone who shines as brightly as you do.

The whole time, his hands moved soothingly on her back as he murmured, “Get it out, Sunshine. You’re all right. I’m here.”

“We’re going to make this right. None of this ‘I’ business.

“Come here.” He reached out blindly and drew her closer until her head rested on his shoulder, and only then did he repeat, “Sleep, Kiva.” And so, curled up next to him, she tried to calm her aching heart enough to follow his command.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, in that same quiet tone, but now it was brimming with something else: anger.

“You are who you decide to be, Kiva. Good or bad, it’s your decision. Your magic is a tool — you wield it, not the other way around. It can’t turn you into someone you don’t want to be. That’s not how it works.” His tone softened as he finished, “You don’t have to fear your magic. But you do need to nurture it, embrace it, strengthen it. And when you do . . . Kiva, you could change the world. Heal the world.”

Kiva had made mistakes. Terrible, awful, life-ruining mistakes. But for better or worse, she’d always done what she thought was right. Her magic didn’t define who she was, nor did it have the power to decide her fate.

“I wish you all the best, Kiva Corentine. Your future is as bright as the stars.”

“That’s right,” Cresta stated. “You’re not a victim. You’re a survivor.” She held Kiva’s blurry eyes. “So start acting like one.”

“I could never hate you, Kiva.”

But she didn’t have to, because Jaren was right in front of her now, whispering too as he asked, “Then why have you been blaming yourself for what happened?”

“I did fall in love with a lie, but that lie was you. I fell in love with you, Kiva. I am in love with you. Then and now, nothing about that has changed — except now I know the real you.”

“I chose you, Jaren. I will always choose you. Because I love you, and I —” Kiva didn’t get to finish before Jaren’s lips slammed down on hers, swallowing the rest of her words.

“No, sweetheart,” he whispered back, kissing the tears from her cheek. His lips remained against her skin as he murmured there, “I really don’t.”

Instead, Jaren cupped her face with his free hand, her golden glow like a halo surrounding them both as he whispered a single word: “Beautiful.”

“You’re both idiots,” he grumbled into their ears. “I don’t know why I love you. Frankly, I deserve better.” He then released them to place loud, smacking kisses on first Kiva’s and then Jaren’s cheeks, before saying, “No more lovers’ spats. My poor little heart can’t take it.”

We’re in this together, Sunshine. You and me. Got it?”

Seeing all that, Kiva’s blood turned cold. Because she knew — she knew — there was only one reason for him to be looking at her like that. She held his eyes and croaked out, “Where’s Caldon?” Fresh tears fell as Tipp opened his mouth and uttered two quiet, broken words: “He’s d-dead.”

The queen immediately stopped shaking, her lips tipping up into a sharp, deadly smile as she said, almost sweetly, “Now you get to meet Sarana and Torvin.”

A dangerous slash of teeth stretched across her mouth as she said, loud enough for them all to hear, “Hello to you too, brother.”

Before anyone could process the threat in her words, Cresta declared in a loud, carrying voice, “By the laws of the country to which we were born, I, Crestoria Vossendi Kildarion, challenge you, Navok Arakkis Kildarion, to the blood duel.”

There’s always going to be someone stronger than you. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Cresta had been preparing herself — for this.

Love. She needs to focus on love. Caldon’s voice whispered across her mind, causing a sob to catch in her throat. She couldn’t think about him now, or how one of the last things he’d said was that he wouldn’t let her face Zuleeka alone: We’re in this together, Sunshine. You and me. Only, he wasn’t there. And she was facing Zuleeka without him. Kiva’s heart cracked all over again. But she now also knew what she had to do. Love. She needs to focus on love. Despite her training, all the magic she had left was currently being fueled by desperation — but it needed more than that. For light to grow, it needed more light. I want you to think of a memory, Jaren had told her, weeks earlier, a good one. A memory filled with love, Caldon had added. Even in the midst of the battle, that wasn’t difficult for Kiva — because all she had to do was think of them. Jaren and Caldon. Tipp and Naari. Cresta and Torell and Ashlyn. All the people so dear to her, who had fought with her — and for her. She thought of kissing Jaren on the mountaintop, of crying in Caldon’s arms. Of Tipp’s gap-toothed smile and Naari’s fierce protection. Of Cresta’s unexpected friendship, Torell’s unflinching loyalty, and Ashlyn’s unearned kindness. They were her hope. They were her strength. They were the reason she would not give up. Could not give up. And when Zuleeka finally managed to get a lucky swipe in, slashing her blade across Naari’s torso and sending her staggering to the ground, Kiva didn’t hesitate. On...

“Kiva, sweetheart, look at me,” he begged, cupping her face, his hands shaking. “Stay with me. Don’t close your eyes.”

Because it was Caldon.

“What happens now?” It was Jaren who answered, leaning in to whisper three perfect words right into her ear: “Now, we dream.”