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Chapter 8

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A thin second passed after Alina heard silence fall in the kitchen, and she launched herself from the bed. She felt her way quickly along the hall, but just before the walls to either side of her disappeared under her fingertips, depositing her in the open front room, she paused.

Why was she doing this?

Alina had never been the type of person to take the idea of sex lightly. She had never understood the other soldiers who bragged about one night stands. If she was completely honest, she couldn't comprehend why people enjoyed them. If there was no history, if there was no trust, if there was no connection between two people... what made a no-names, meaningless, one-time-only fuck with someone you didn't intend on ever seeing again worthwhile? What made it different from sex with a prostitute? What made it different from masturbation with an interactive object?

She knew that people were all wired differently. She figured there were people in the world who didn't need an emotional connection to get the most out of sex, but she also knew she wouldn't be one of them. There were times in her life she'd wished she was that type of person: long months of hard work and dreary days when the ground was covered in the grey sludge that passed for snow in their makeshift, muddy military camps. She'd longed to be the kind of person who could release some tension by going home with a guy she picked up at a tavern, and not feel bad about never seeing him again.

Why was she throwing herself at Mal?

He'd been her closest friend since she was a child. He'd saved her life countless times. He was helping her run right now, avoiding what was essentially a life of well-dressed slavery.

Was she using sex as a thank you? As a reward for good behavior? Alina grimaced. She wouldn't be so intent on this unless it was more than that. It had to be more than that.

She remembered thinking he was perfect as they lay together, hiding from work in the fields beyond the group home as children. She had been unable to imagine living without her best friend.

She remembered the first time she'd seen him after a night out with friends, sporting a black eye and a split lip. Her heart had leapt into her throat and she'd had to work hard not to take his face in her hands and worry over him. She knew none of the specifics, but a deep hatred for whoever had hurt him burned within her chest.

Every time he'd ever made a comment about a girl being interested in him, Alina had kicked sand over the flames of jealousy that licked in her gut.

She'd always assumed he was off limits. That he thought of her as a sister. She'd worked hard to maintain their friendship, since he had never suggested anything more was an option.

Her broken heart had mourned for the loss of his company when they were separated, and Aleksander had been… what? A distraction? A balm? A second place option to settle for since her letters had gone unanswered, and Mal had obviously gone on with his life without sparing a thought for the Grisha girl he thought had lied to him about her powers? Was she only angry at Mal for ignoring her, or had she really had feelings for the Darkling?

Alina shook her head, and let out a frustrated growl. Her mind balked at the self-reflection required to answer that question. She stood alone at the edge of the light, still not stepping forward into the room where she'd be seen, warring with herself.

Mal loved her. That was undeniable. He wanted her—

Still not a good enough reason. Just because he wanted her... She wouldn't want him to be with her just because she wanted him. The same standards had to be applied in reverse. Alina clenched a fist tightly. How was anyone supposed to know—to really know—if they truly loved another person, without motive or condition?

He'd kissed her so passionately... almost desperately, like his very breath was dependent on the contact between his hands and her skin. He'd held her to him so tightly on the bed that it had felt like being pressed together and wound around each other just wasn't good enough, and he intended to pass through her, the way water still managed to invade into tightly packed sand. Like he wasn't sure life would continue if he let her go.

...was this pity? Did she want to give him this just because he seemed to want it so much?

Her mind skipped back to Mal's hesitation regarding the speed with which she'd seemed to switch to him from Aleksander.

Better question, she thought. Why had she been so willing to explore a relationship with Aleksander? As much as she recoiled from the deeper details of the question, she knew it needed to be asked. She had felt so awkward and alone, so different and out of place when she'd first arrived at the palaces and began learning to use her powers. She remembered the frustration and the desperation for some semblance of normality and acceptance. Aleksander had felt… familiar, in a way, and his kindness had been a welcome respite from the open hostility she'd faced from others. He made her feel special. He made her feel wanted. She had believed he had feelings for her.

This posed a difficult follow up question. If she had only been drawn to Aleksander because he showed her kindness and appeared to be attracted to her, how was her situation with Mal any different? How could she know he really did truly love her? How could she be certain of his motives, and hers in return?

She'd considered the possibility that it was either Aleksander or, alternatively, no-one, because she hadn't ever felt that appreciated or desired. Logically, the two of them had made sense to Alina at the time. They had access to each other, and where else was she going to meet someone, locked up in her gilded cage by the King?

Alina suddenly realized her moment with Aleksander was probably as close to a one night stand as she'd ever get. She didn't really know the man whose arms she'd been in.

She hadn't lied earlier that night when she said she wouldn't have entertained the idea of Aleksander if she'd known of Mal's feelings for her. She'd loved him for as long as she could remember.

Screw this. Alina moved suddenly and purposefully into the dim light of the front room. Why was she standing alone in the hallway, trying to justify a desire that shouldn't have to be justified, and quantify reasons that couldn't be analyzed that way? Reason was one thing. The human heart was another.

Mal looked up at her from his position on the floor, sitting with his back against one wall.

Alina cleared her throat and steeled her nerve. She loved Mal. That's all there was to it.

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