The Other Side of Truth (The Marked Ones Trilogy Book 3)

by Alicia Kat Vancil

When we reached the curb I asked, “What were all the cranes about?”

  “They say if you fold a thousand cranes, your wish will be granted,” Patrick answered without looking at me as he swung our hands back and forth.

  “Did you get your wish?”

  A brilliant smile spread across his lips, and he looked over at me. It was a smile I had been missing so much without even realizing it. “Yes, I think I did.”

  PATRICK

  I turned on the shower as I pulled my sopping wet hoodie and shirt over my head.

  “You can go first, just promise to leave me some hot water, okay?” I said as I started to walk out of the hotel suite bathroom.

  Nualla reached out and grabbed my arm as I passed her. “I want you to stay.”

  I turned back slowly and she looked into my eyes.

  “Please stay,” she pleaded as her fingers, cold and shaking, ran down my arm to my wrist where her fingers brushed against my silver tracker bracelet.

  I brought her hand gently to my lips, trying to kiss away the coldness in her fingers. “Forever.”

  After a long moment, Nualla pulled her hand away from my lips and undid the button on her jeans. She slid the wet fabric down her legs and then stepped out of them. And I did the same, kicking my jeans to the corner of the bathroom without taking my eyes off of her. Her hand then slid up her side to the edge of her shirt, and stopped. Her fingers were shaking and I didn’t think it was just from being cold.

  “Nualla?” I asked questioningly, starting to shiver myself standing there on the cold marble floor in only my boxers.

  “I don’t want you to be upset when you see it,” she answered in a small voice.

  I sucked in a breath and swallowed hard. She was talking about her scar—the scar I had caused.

  “Hiding it away won’t erase what happened,” I said quietly. “I need to face it—what happened—but only if you’re ready.”

  With trembling hands, Nualla slowly slid the shirt up and over her head. And then she tossed it to the floor, still not meeting my eyes. I took a step closer and reached out a shaking hand toward her. There it was, silvery green just like mine, and just under her ribs on her left side. I ran my fingers over it gently and she shivered.

  “The person who made that, he’s gone now?” Nualla asked as my fingers traced the raised edge of her scar.

  I froze and then pulled my hand away from her. And I could feel Aku stirring in my head. Wanting desperately to say something, but not saying anything because he had promised to stay silent, if only for one night. But I needed him to break his silence—to give me the answer I needed.

  That part of us that hurt her, is he…still in there somewhere? I asked Aku within my head.

  He was silent for a moment before he answered. No.

  Are you sure?

  That part of us was tied to the chip. Without it, he does not exist, Aku stated confidently.

  Okay.

  I want you to understand something, Patrick. Nualla may not be my One, but that does not mean that I would ever do anything to harm her.

  And it was in that moment that I finally realized all that he was willing to sacrifice. That he was willing to stay a prisoner within my head for the rest of our lives.

  Thank you. It felt like so little to offer in return for such a sacrifice, but it was all I had.

  For what?

  You know why.

  Aku was silent for a long moment before he said, She’s waiting for your answer.

  I looked up into Nualla eyes, searching them for fear. Of him. Of me. But there wasn’t any. Either she was truly unafraid or she was hiding it so deep down I couldn’t find it.

  “The person who hurt you is gone but…”

  “But?” she asked uncertainly.

  “But Aku is still here, within my head. And he will probably be there for the rest of my life,” I admitted, because I had promised myself that I would never keep anything from her again.

  Nualla stared at me in astonishment. “How is that possible?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Nualla continued to stare at me for a moment longer before her lips started to tremble and she ducked her head, pressing her cheek against my chest. Right over my heart. Right over my scar.

  She sniffled and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close. “Hey, I know it’s weird, but it will be okay. We might be a little broken right now, but we’ll be okay,” I cooed softly to her.

  Nualla let a single sob rack her body before she looked up at me. And I stared into her beautiful eyes, with their silver flecks like captured moonlight before I couldn’t hold back anymore. I pressed my lips to hers, kissing her like I was drowning and she was my only hope for air.

  We pulled our remaining clothing free from our bodies, a tangle of fingers and lips, and stepped into the shower. As the water ran over our bodies, our fingers trailed across each other’s skin, like rain. Sliding across every surface and exploring every inch. Rediscovering what it meant to be together. To be One.

  It felt like I had spent forever holding my breath and now I could breathe again. And by the hitch in her breathing I knew she felt the same. I opened myself tentatively to welcome her emotions and she flowed gently into me. Filling all those broken, missing pieces of my soul like she was the mortar that kept the mosaic of my heart together.

  As she filled the cracks of my heart and I hers, Nualla tangled her fingers into my hair and deepened our kiss. A tingling warmness surged through my body and I gripped the edges of her thighs. Lifting her up and pressing her back gently against the shower wall. She let out a startled cry as the cold wall met her flesh, and then pressed her lips harder against mine.

  As I pressed my body against hers, feeling her completely with every touch—every kiss—I had to wonder what I had ever done to deserve someone like her.

  There was something in the way she moved—the way she moaned my name—that I knew I would never be able to live without. That I could search the world and never find someone who could love me so fiercely, so recklessly, so completely, as she did. That I could search the world and never find someone who would choose me and love me despite all my flaws and damages. That could make me feel like every kiss, every breath, every moment in this life was well spent as long as it was with her. Her, who made me want to try every day to be deserving of her love. To want to be that person I saw reflected back in her eyes.

  Nothing Else Matters

  Monday, December 24th

  PATRICK

  A scream ripped me out of sleep, and I sprang into action. Not thinking, just moving, as I leapt from the bed. I crouched in a defensive position, ready to strike as my eyes darted around the dark room. Taking in all the little details before I finally realized where I was. I was still in the hotel suite, the Christmas tree in Union Square glittering distantly through the windows.

  My heart thudding away in my chest, and I focused on the dark figure in the bed that was between me and the window.

  The figure was bent over, their whole body shaking with each sob.

  “Nualla?” I ventured as I stood up slowly.

  She looked back at me with haunted, frightened eyes through the darkness.

  I took a few steps forward, and quickly slid back into the bed. “Nualla, what’s wrong?”

  She looked at me, lip quivering, and then threw herself at me. “The bodies. So many bodies.” She was shaking so badly that the words came out jerky and uneven.

  The whole moment was like those nights after the school attack when she had cried into her pillow at night when she thought I was asleep. But a hundred times worse.

  I pulled her naked body up and onto my lap, so she was straddling my hips. And wrapped my arms around her, threading my fingers through her mass of black tangled curls.


  “It’s okay. It will be okay,” I whispered into her hair over and over again like a mantra. As if the more I said it the more likely it was to come true. And with every sob that wracked her body, I held her just a bit tighter.

  “We’re so broken,” she stated, her voice coming out hoarse and raw.

  “I know,” I whispered back. “But we’re together and as long as we are, nothing else matters.”

  TRAVIS

  I had been lost in a fog since Thursday. Worrying about how I was going to make everything right with Parker. But nothing on earth would ever make me forget what today was.

  I pushed open Patrick’s door. “Hey Patrick, you almost ready to go to—?”

  The room was empty. Not empty in that it was miraculously devoid of the mess of drawings, but that he was absent from it.

  My heart started to beat uncomfortably fast, and I whipped out my phone.

  Please just be getting coffee. Please just be getting coffee.

  I called his phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

  No, Patrick, not today. You can’t be MIA today. I need you. You promised.

  And then I realized with a start that I hadn’t seen him since Sunday morning. That I wasn’t at all positive that he had come home last night.

  Fighting the rising panic, I called his phone again, but it still went straight to voicemail. With a sigh, I left a message. “Hey it’s…it’s your brother. I hope you’re just out getting coffee or whatever it is you do while I’m usually at work. But just in case you forgot what day it is today, it’s Christmas Eve day. And…well…yeah, call me back when you get this.”

  PATRICK

  I reached out, and then sat bolt upright when my hand touched nothing but bed.

  My heart thudded against my chest as I searched the room frantically. And then skipped a beat when I saw a naked figure sitting on the other side of the room. She was wrapped in a blanket, but the fabric hung down in the back revealing a Marked One’s Mark peeking out from beneath the edge of spiraling black curls.

  Kira?

  A small choking sound escaped my throat, and she turned. Concern spreading quickly across her face as she looked back at me. “Patrick, what’s wrong?”

  It’s not Kira, Aku stated confidently.

  How do you know?

  Trust me, it’s not her.

  “Patrick?” Nualla asked again as she stood.

  I swallowed hard. “You…you have a Marked One’s Mark on your back.”

  Nualla blinked at me in stunned surprise before she looked away. “I know.”

  “You do?” I asked in disbelief. “When…when did this happen?”

  With a heavy sigh Nualla walked over to the bed, pulling the blanket tight around her like a cloak.

  She dropped down onto the bed next to me. “It started to appear shortly after I was released from the hospital. Really slowly at first—I actually thought it was just a bruise. But then as it got darker and clearer I realized what it was.”

  I just stared at her in horror. I had done this to her. Soon there would be nothing left of her, but the scars I had caused.

  “I’m so, so sorry,” I breathed, even though I knew sorry would never be enough.

  “I don’t mind,” Nualla said with a shrug that made the blanket slip down and expose one of her bare shoulders. “Now we match,” she said without looking at me as she pulled the blanket back up.

  “Gods, what did I ever do to deserve you?” I asked with wonder. That Mark was still a stigma to our people, and yet she shrugged it off like it was no big deal.

  Nualla snorted out a self-deprecating laugh. “You were willing to put up with all the bullshit.”

  “Well, then I really lucked out, because you are surprisingly low maintenance in the bullshit department,” I said with a wry smirk.

  Nualla groaned, and leaned against me. “Just wait until you become the chancellar, then tell me this is low maintenance.”

  “Well, we’ll burn that bridge when we get there,” I said as I kissed the top of her head.

  “Isn’t that phrase usually, ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we get there’?”

  “Yep,” I said with a playful grin.

  She pushed me with an exasperated huff, but I grabbed hold of her and we both collapsed onto the bed. Nualla curled up into my side and we laid there, me running my fingers down her soft skin.

  After a while, Nualla let out a heavy breath, “I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay,” I replied uneasily, because her voice sounded so serious.

  “I slept with Travis,” Nualla stated in a strangled voice like she was gritting her teeth and bracing for something.

  My whole body tensed, and I squeezed my eyes shut. “I know.”

  She sat up abruptly, and turned to look at me. “You know?” she said incredulously.

  “Travis told me,” I said with a uncomfortable shrug.

  “He told you? He told you and you don’t even—”

  I put my finger to her lips, stopping her words. “We can’t change the past no matter how badly we might want to.”

  She gave me a dubious look as she moved away from my finger. “So it doesn’t bother you in the least that I slept with your brother?” she asked flatly.

  “Of course it bothers me. But getting angry at you for something that happened a few years before either of you knew I even existed is like getting mad at a cat because it doesn’t have opposable thumbs.”

  A small smile tugged at her lips. “Your analogies are extremely inventive.”

  I smirked at her uncertainly. “Um…thank you?”

  “Well now that that’s out of the way, and you’re cool with it we can forget it ever happened.”

  “I never said I was okay with—” Nualla glared at me. “What were we talking about? I’ve completely forgotten.”

  “That’s better,” Nualla said triumphantly.

  I arched my eyebrows. “I take that back, you are totally high mainten—”

  Nualla held up a pillow threateningly, and I put up my hands in defensive surrender. “Okay, okay, fine.” But even as we both sat there laughing I knew there was something I still had to say. One more secret I couldn’t leave unspoken.

  I sucked in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I have something I need to tell you, too.”

  “If it’s that you slept with Kira, than I already guessed that,” Nualla said as she flopped back onto the bed.

  Excuse me?! Aku spat out incredulously. I never slept with Kira. I mean, I really wanted to, but I never actually got the chance. I mean, I kissed her a whole hell of a lot and… he continued to babble even as I stopped paying attention.

  “Um, actually I didn’t.”

  Nualla turned her head, and gave me an unbelievably skeptical look. “Like ever?”

  “Like ever,” I swore. “And neither did Aku, before you ask.”

  “Huh,” she replied as she turned her head back to the ceiling. Then something seemed to occur to her. “So if it’s not that, then what were you going to tell me?”

  “I’m a Warrior of Kalo,” I stated nervously. I knew I was allowed to tell Nualla. She was my One, and more importantly, we were married. But still…it felt like I was leaving myself dangerously exposed.

  Nualla stared at me for one stunned moment before she burst into laughter. Which was the last response I was expecting.

  “Sure you are,” she snorted like it was the funniest thing in the world. But when I didn’t join her, her face fell. “You’re not joking.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Nualla sat up abruptly, the blanket cloak forgotten. She opened her mouth and a series of sounds came out like she couldn’t quite decide what to say before she settled on, “How?
”

  “It’s in my blood. My parents were—”

  “Is Travis one too?” Nualla asked with huge eyes.

  “No.”

  “Does he know you are?”

  “Yes.”

  Nualla sat there for a long silent moment before she asked, “What…what does this mean?”

  I let out a long heavy sigh. “That my life isn’t going to be easy, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be safe, either. So if—”

  It was Nualla’s turn to put a finger to my lips. “Don’t worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone.”

  And I knew in that moment that she was thinking of Andraya and Emmy.

  Thank you. Thank you for being okay with this. Thank you for understanding, I said with my eyes as I ran my hand down her cheek.

  “So since we aren’t worrying about tomorrow, what are we doing today?” I asked as I brushed a piece of hair from her eyes.

  “Living,” Nualla answered as she pulled me toward her.

  Astari Tahara

  Monday, December 24th

  TRAVIS

  “I hope you know that since you’re dead, I’m going to drink this myself,” I informed the stone grave marker as I sat down cross-legged in front of it. The Galathea family shrine was the largest and most impressive of all of the eight-sided, gazebo-like, black structures in the Kalodaemon cemetery in Marin, and the final resting place of one Emily Inaba Galathea. A girl with a dangerous sense of fashion and a mischievous attitude that I had always known simply as Emmy. “Though, I will leave your flask when I’m done.”

  The cemetery was virtually empty as it usually was on this day. But soon, octagonal wooden lanterns would be hung from each of the curving edges of the shrines. With their beads like fallen stars. And on the thirty-first, come rain or shine, this whole place would be packed to the brim with picnicking families enjoying lunch together and burning messages to their ancestors. But today it was just me, the groundskeepers, and probably a ghost or two.