because i am weak, i turn in his arms. because i am weak, i press my lips to his, searching for something to make me stop running, to make me forget. we are both weak, it seems. as his hands run over my skin, i feel a different sort of pain. worse than Maven's machine, deeper than my nerves. it aches like a hollow, like an empty weight. i am sword, born of lightning, of this fire- and of Maven's. one already betrayed me, and the other might leave at any moment. but i do not fear a broken heart. i do not fear pain. i cling to Cal, Kilorn, Shade, to saving all the newbloods i can, because i am afraid of waking up to emptiness, to a place where my friends and family are gone and i am nothing but a single bolt of lightning in the blackness of a lonely storm. if i am a sword, i am a sword made of glass, and i feel myself beginning to shatter.
excerpt from GLASS SWORD: Bk2, C17 by: Victoria Aveyard