Torn: Sequel to Ruthless

Chapter 16

Octavia

The words echo in my mind like a relentless chant: Kai is gone. Over and over, they twist and turn, yet they still don't make sense. Kai is gone. He's not here. He's not coming back. 

It feels like my chest has been hollowed out, like someone's taken something vital and smashed it into a thousand jagged pieces. Breathing hurts. Everything hurts. I want to scream, but my throat feels too tight, like it might shatter if I try.

He's gone.

I'm sitting on the cold, unyielding ground, my back against a stone wall that digs into my skin, but I don't care. My knees are drawn up to my chest, my arms wrapped around them like that might hold me together. My sword is still in my hand, useless. I couldn't save him. I couldn't save him. The blood on the blade catches my eye, dark and dried now. His blood. I stare at it, unblinking. My hands are stained too, trembling as I remember the way it felt—warm, sticky, alive. I've seen so much death in this arena. Too much. But nothing—nothing—could have prepared me for this. For him.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it out, but it's worse that way. All I see is his face. His stupid, crooked smile, the way his eyes softened when he looked at me, the way he teased me, like the world wasn't falling apart around us. Like we had time. We didn't.

I don't know how long I've been here. Time doesn't mean anything anymore. The world feels far away, muted and heavy, like I'm underwater and can't quite reach the surface. Somewhere, faintly, I hear voices—Apollo? Seena? It doesn't matter. Nothing matters now. Not the Games, not the Capitol, not even my own survival.

Not without Kai.

I should've done more. I should've stopped him, fought harder, something. I keep replaying it in my mind, every second of it, searching for a way to rewrite the ending. But no matter how many times I go over it, the result is the same. I hear a sound—broken, raw—and it takes me a moment to realize it's coming from me. My chest heaves as the sobs start, small at first, then bigger, harder, until I can't control them anymore. I bury my face in my hands, shaking, gasping for breath between the tears. I can't stop. I don't want to stop. This pain—it's all I have left of him.

"I'm sorry," I choke out, the words ripping free like a wound. "I'm so sorry, Kai."

I never told him. I never told him how I felt. I thought we had more time. I thought I could bury it, that it didn't matter. But it mattered. It always mattered. And now... now it's too late. All those moments I dreamed of, all the things I wanted to say but didn't—they're gone. Stolen.

The last thing I remember is the way his eyes met mine. There was something there, something I can't quite name, and then... then the knife. He didn't even flinch. He just kept looking at me, like he was trying to tell me something, like he wanted me to remember. I press my hand to the spot where he fell, the dirt cold beneath my palm. There's nothing left but blood and memories, but I swear I can feel him. The weight of what could have been, of everything we'll never have, presses down on me.

It's not fair. None of this is fair. He deserved more. He deserved a life, a future. He deserved to be more than a pawn in this cruel, twisted game. He deserved to be loved. He deserved... me.

I sit there, the cold seeping into my skin, until it feels like I'll never move again. The arena waits, the world waits, but I don't care. Without Kai, none of it matters. But then I hear his voice in my head, faint but certain: Keep going. I don't know how I'll do it. I don't know if I can. But if I don't, everything he did, everything he gave up—it'll be for nothing. I wipe at my face, my hands still trembling, and force myself to stand. My legs feel like lead, and my heart feels even heavier, but I stand. For him.

For Kai.

I take a step, then another, each one harder than the last. But I'll keep going. I'll carry him with me, every step, every breath. I'll win this. Not for the Capitol. Not for the glory. For him.

For the boy I never got to love.