Book 5: What Comes After

Amval

I lay on my side, sucking in mouthfuls of beach air and twirling my wrist lazily to suction the sand out before it reaches my lungs. Violets and ink fight the salt spray for attention. Someday, I’ll figure out how to play the way they smell together. Constraint and wildness, light and dark, the lush purple and the deep green. I’ve never written my own songs before, but she makes me want to try.

For the first time since I woke up in the cart, my head doesn’t hurt, and neither does my mark.

Ingrid had every right to be furious with me, but the ground shifted under our feet when she kissed me. The moment before she did, I looked in her eyes and saw them change. The sparks of rage gave way to something warmer.

Something I might call relief.

That, I understand, even if I don’t completely understand what kind of person she turns me into. Blood dries into the sand from the shoulder she bit, and I don’t care because doing anything about i