Chapter 79
Vanya
Kross’s entire body stiffened, and then, just like that, he stumbled back a step, as if I’d physically struck him. His chest rose and fell, frantic, and his green eyes blazed with heat that wasn’t fury, but shame—raw, burning shame.
“I don’t…” he whispered at first, voice barely a breath. Then louder—hoarse, trembling. “I don’t remember!”
His voice echoed across the mountaintop, stolen by the wind.
He ran his hand through his rain-drenched hair, tugging at it, shaking his head like he was trying to wake himself up from something. His jaw clenched, and his shoulders rose higher with every breath.
“Sometimes—” he hissed, louder now, looking up at the sky like the clouds could swallow his guilt—“Sometimes there are visions, pieces. I see flashes of what I did. Blood. Tr
