Everlife

My stomach begins to churn with broken dreams and promises. Killian and I, we’re anchors to each other now. If Troika decides I’m no longer worth the hassle, they can take both of us out with a single blow. Same with Myriad. Kill one, kill the other.

I don’t want to die, but I’m not afraid of my end. What terrifies me? The thought of Killian’s end. I want him to have a chance to live the life he’s always been denied.

“Take the boy to a safe house inside Troika,” Luciana tells Shamus. “Tell no one where he is, least of all Miss Lockwood.”

What? No. I won’t be separated from Killian while he’s inside Troika, and definitely not while he hates me. If we’re apart, that hatred could fester and grow. Together, I can remind him of all the reasons he loves me.

“What happened to your desire to finesse the situation, eh?” Shamus asks her. “What about the vote?”

Her gray eyes narrow on me. “If she wants to learn the location of her beloved, she’ll vote for Orion.”

Are you freaking kidding me? I’m being blackmailed by Generals? Love and honor are supposed to be prized; revenge and deceit are not supposed to be a viable option, ever.

There’s another way, a voice whispers along the Grid. A voice I’ve never heard before, and yet I recognize it as my own. Temptation wrapped in desire, too good to be true, yet too dark to be good.

The voice comes from deep, deep inside me. A place now mired in shadows. A place I didn’t know existed...the worst part of me. There I find rage, hate and a thousand other things I thought I’d dealt with.

The shadows didn’t come from Killian, I realize. They came from me. For years, they’ve been hiding, waiting to strike. Ready.

Despite this, I find myself replying. Tell me.

Make her pay. Make them all pay.

chapter three (#u7856cc18-ae4b-5347-95b0-46827ab3d420)

“You cannot free a fool from the chains he reveres.”

—Troika

Killian

Pain. Heat. I’m consumed! Flames engulf me from head to toe. If my skin melts from my bones, I’ll scream and I’ll curse and I’ll probably beg for mercy, but I won’t be surprised.

Might not even resist.

Part of me is ready to die. Death will be a relief. I’ll wake up Fused to someone else. Two will become one. But the other part of me fights to live now. The enemy is here. Two Troikan Generals want me dead. I’ll do them no favors. I won’t just survive; I’ll thrive.

As I fight for every labored breath, the Generals talk amongst themselves.

The female: “From what I’ve observed in the past, he’ll revert to the worst version of himself. The more he fights his dark impulses, the better he’ll become...but she’ll begin to deteriorate.”

The male: “Basically, they’re screwed either way. And so are we.”

I focus inward, searching for answers. Where am I? How did I get here, in this condition? I’m a blank slate, and the answers elude me. Emotions do not. A tide of misery, sorrow and grief rises, as if they’ve seethed for months, held back by a dam that no longer exists.

Anger joins the deluge, sparking a fall of acid rain inside my chest. Who can I trust, if not myself? I need my memories.

What did the General say earlier? Myriadians always have a harder time adjusting to the bond. Our Light forcibly attacks their shadows while their shadows gently seduce our Light. However, Troikans have a difficult battle in the end.

Bond?

Truth or lie?

Rays of Light burrow through my skull, shining, shining so brightly. In contrast, shadows wind and twine through my thoughts, memories and even the Grid to...protect me? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, those shadows are quite literally keeping me in the dark.

Bar me from what’s mine? Die bloody.

Kill. Kill! A demand from the shadows. Kill the Light, kill the girl.

Some part of me protests. Embrace the Light, trust the girl.

There are only three people I trust right now. Me, myself and I.

Usually I avoid any hint of illumination. In the Light, destruction awaits. In the dark, indulgence is the name of the game. Today, I rush toward the brightest beams, determined to chase the shadows from my memories. Desperate times, desperate measures. To get something different, you must do something different.

Shadows disintegrate. Not all of them, not even close, but enough. Information unfurls. I have a name—Killian Flynn. An occupation—Laborer. A goal—to please my king. A purpose—save my mother, whatever the cost.

The anger heats, quickly turning to rage. That rage races through my veins, my muscles seeming to plump and tighten on my bones. My skin pulls taut, threatening to rip at the seams. How can I not know more about myself? Why does the information seem...wrong?

On my wrist are the numbers 143, 10 and I have no idea why they’re there. What else has been wiped away with mental Windex?

I need to know more. All. Ignorance isn’t blissful, but dangerous.

Embrace the Light.

The words drift along the Grid, spoken by...me? A softer, gentler version of me, anyway. Confusion plagues me, and my brows furrow. Only a Troikan would suggest I embrace Light rather than fight to extinguish it, but I’m no Troikan. However, my affiliation doesn’t matter right now. I obey.

The risk pays off, new facts crystalizing.

Once an orphan, I became the best ML ever born—it’s not bragging if it’s true. I have won souls no one else could reach. Ice queens, narcissists, the damaged.

For some reason, females like being seduced by me. I like seducing. Give me a challenge, watch me excel.

One of my last assignments was Tenley Lockwood, one of the damaged ones. Used for her station, rejected by her parents. Locked inside an asylum and abused.

I must have failed to win her. I—

Tense up. I remember. I did fail. Miss Lockwood made covenant with Troika, forsaking me, and choosing to be with Archer Prince.

Misery, sorrow, grief—now I know where they come from.

Never good enough...

Kill her!

Be at ease. Resist the darkness.

The chorus inside my head is maddening. A constant tug-of-war. Now, at least, Miss Lockwood is trapped in the circle of my arms. Wait. Miss Lockwood is trapped in the circle of my arms? The real girl, not her Shell. We’re touching, skin to skin, and there’s no pain.