Everlife (Everlife #3)

Two men stand behind him, ensuring he’s locked in place as a well-dressed man paces directly in front of him, back and forth, back and forth. One of those men is holding a wafer of ambrosia and yelling at Killian, furious that he tried to steal food from him. Him, an exalted General.

Finally the General stops and glares at Killian with cruelty and calculation in his dark eyes. “You want this, boy?” He shakes the ambrosia in Killian’s direction, making sure he smells the sweetness. His mouth waters, and his gums ache.

“Beg me for it.”

Killian shakes his head no, refusing to beg. Even now, pride rules him.

Motions exaggerated for effect, the General takes a bite of the wafer. Little crumbs fall to the floor, and Killian whimpers. When he reaches out, the man on his left stomps on his hand.

A cry of pain from Killian—and me. Hot tears continue to pour down my cheeks.

The memory plays on, the General reaching for the whip hanging on the wall. Killian stays put, still staring at the crumbs.

With a nod from the General, the guards rip away Killian’s shirt.

“Soon,” he says, unfurling the whip, “I’ll take you back to the Learning Center, where you belong. Until then, you’re going to beg me, as ordered. That, I promise you.”

The scene goes dark, and, even as I sob, I question why I’m not allowed to witness what happened next.

No doubt the answer is simple. It would have broken me.

I had tae beg for scraps as a child, simply to survive. I’d rather die than beg for anything.

So badly I want to wrap my arms around him, around the boy he used to be and the man he became. I want to protect him from the past, present and future. I want to know why he’s forgotten me, but I’m learning more about him.

Something Luciana said nags at me. Love is not a feeling, but a choice. In that, I agree with her. But I wonder…

What if Killian lost his memories because he must choose to be with me without having feelings for me?

Will he?

More determined to find him by the second, I brace and pursue our bond…

A new memory takes shape. Killian stands in front of a mirror, naked. Gloriously, exquisitely naked. He’s only seventeen years old, yet muscle sculpts him. His skin is bronzed, mostly free of tattoos but littered with scars.

Why didn’t those scars heal? He should have regenerated.

A girl crouches behind him. She has short, dark hair, pale skin, elfin features and a slender build. She’s wearing a black tank top and a pair of barely-there panties, and it’s clear the two have just had sex.

Envy pricks me. Envy and anger, with a dash of hurt. This boy is my husband, and this girl is seeing him at his most vulnerable. Seeing him in ways I haven’t. Not yet, anyway. Her memories of him belong to me!

At least I recognize her. Erica used to Flank Killian, chronicling his exploits. Then she helped him help me, and Myriad locked her in the Kennel.

Another item for my To Do list. Find her and set her free.

I turn my attention to the small but luxurious room. The bed is covered by a plush black comforter while a fuzzy white blanket drapes the foot. A matching circular rug surrounds the bed. Softness when you lie down, softness when you stand up. The walls are painted black, except for the mirrored one. Several frames hang throughout. Empty frames. Once they contained holographic images of Killian and Archer, but Killian deleted them after Archer defected, then saved the frames as a reminder. You can count only on yourself.

The dresser is hand-carved in the shape of a dragon, wings extending from the sides to act as bookshelves.

“Let me get this straight,” Erica says as she tattoos his calf. “You want a map of Myriad to cover your entire body—just because. Isn’t that taking realm loyalty a little too far?”

“There is no such thing as too far, baby. Besides, the tattoos will cover my scars,” Killian replies, accent-less.

Doesn’t feel comfortable enough to be his true self with Erica? And baby? Gross!

I have a direct line to his thoughts, but he isn’t thinking about the accent. Only about using the map to keep track of all the things he plans to hide inside the realm, how Erica will never know. No one will know, no matter how hard or often they study the images inked into his skin. Can’t read a map without a key.

His mind is the key.

He’ll hide weapons, money used in Myriad, Troika and even the Land of the Harvest, and extra supplies of ambrosia, just to name a few. That way, if ever he loses his home or earns a punishment that strips him of his possessions, he won’t have to start over. Not again.

My heart clenches in my chest, seeming to bump against broken ribs. The other tattoos he’s asked Erica to add… He’s lost so much, and wants to honor what he loves and misses with the whole of his being. His mother, his friendship with Archer. The car he’d kept in the Land of the Harvest because he’d never gotten to drive in Firstlife, until some punk kids had stolen it from him. Ashley, the foster sister who died. Even Madame Pearl Bennett, Ashley’s mother.

Pearl adopted him, offering him a family, only to return him mere days after Ashley’s death.

What he mourned most of all, however, was his chance to become a General. When he failed to develop the proper gifts, he received a demotion and the Secondking’s disappointment.

“Scars are sexy,” Erica says. “And unique. So few of us have them.”

“Most children are protected, their vulnerability carefully shielded.”

I hear bitterness in his tone and realize he received his scars the day the General caught him stealing ambrosia. The whip…

Acid fills the pit of my stomach.

I’ve always speculated about Killian’s scars and tattoos. While I’m grateful I now have answers, I would have preferred to learn the truth from present-day Killian. To know he trusted me with his secrets and pain.

But even if his memories were intact, why should he trust me? When I sided with Archer, choosing to live in Troika, I abandoned Killian, just like everyone else. At least, that’s how he must have felt. Yes, he pushed me to let my heart lead the way, knowing I would never be happy in Myriad, but it cost him more than I ever realized.

Maybe he forgot me because he wanted to forget.

Sadness overwhelms me. Between one blink and the next, my link to Killian’s past is disrupted, and the scorched manna field whisks back into focus. The rain has stopped falling, the sun shining brightly. I remained in the memory all night long?

Zero! The vote!

I jackknife to a sitting position, my thoughts whirling. Once I had a choice to make: Troika or Killian. I chose the realm over the boy. Today, with the vote, the same choice is set before me.

I’d already decided to put Killian first; now my determination solidifies. Today, I pick the boy. There is nothing more important than a life. A single life is priceless.

I will help Killian. I will save him from those who think to harm him. I will build a new life with him, and for him. A better life. Two realms united, one people. Starting with us.

Firstking help anyone who gets in my way.





MYRIAD



From: K_F_5/23.53.6

To: Z_C_4/23.43.2

Subject: Here are the facts, short and sweet 1. I’ve bonded with Tenley Lockwood. Yes, I’m that good.

2. I’m a prisoner inside Troika. ←Yes, I said Troika.

(a) I successfully traveled through the Veil of Wings.

(b) If you want more soldiers inside the realm, bonding is the way.

3. I had ambrosia hidden in a secret compartment in my boot, as I was trained.

(a) I drank it, of course, so I’m now out of ambrosia.

(b) No one has realized my comm is currently working.

4. I’ll be returning to Myriad soon—with cargo. Be ready. This particular package bites, hard.

5. I don’t have a fifth point, but I felt like using an entire hand. We must stay true to our feelings, right?

If you have any instructions for me, now is the time to send them. Let’s win this war!

Might Equals Right!

ML, Killian Flynn





MYRIAD



From: Z_C_4/23.43.2

To: H_S_3/51.3.6

Subject: Killian Flynn My dear General Schmidt,