“Well,” Seruf combed her fingers through a freshly untangled section of my hair, “may I make a suggestion? What do you think of the name ‘Lasair?’ Do you know what it means?” she asked when I started to protest.
“No,” I said.
Seruf smiled. “‘The Bringer of Light.’Lasair.”
I turned the word over in my head.Lasair.It was similar to what Terrick had affectionately called me but more sophisticated. A better fit for an adult, perhaps.
“It’s not all that different from Lass, is it?” Seruf said, as though she’d heard my thoughts.
I didn’t want to admit I rather liked it. So I stayed silent as she combed my hair.
And perhaps I was a fool. Perhaps I was simply starved for a touch of kindness, but I relaxed beneath her ministrations. My breathing steadied. My tense muscles loosened.
She drew back, cupping my chin in her palm. “Would you like to see Norhall, child?”
I swallowed.No.The only word out of my mouth should have beenno.
But I said nothing.
Seruf continued. “You are my protégé and you would be given the finest accommodations, afforded every respect and comfort. We have soft clothing.” She traced a hand over the cuts and hives on my bare shoulders. “And warm, scented baths you can indulge in whenever you wish. And thefood…have you ever tasted chocolate? Sweets?”
At my blank look, she tapped her fingers against my chin. “You will sample them,” she assured me. “As many as you’d like. What say you?”
Bile rose in my throat.
At the time, I didn’t understand why. She had shown no abhorrence, no inclination toward violence. Only a friendly, soothing demeanor.
Yet her touch, her presence, and the sweet apple scent that wafted from her skin made my stomach roil in rebellion.
Despite her caring words and gestures, there was no warmth in Seruf’s eyes.
Aside from the power we shared, Seruf had no bond with me. She did not care for my well-being. If she had, she would not have assumed me dead so easily. She would have continued searching for me until she saw my corpse with her own eyes.
It’s what Terrick would’ve done. For all the mistakes he made, Terrick never gave up on me. He cared too much to let me go.
Seruf didn’t care.
She only wanted the fire that flowed through my veins. The fire that had come from her own blood. She wanted the piece of herself that she’d given up returned.
I would find no love if I accepted her proposal.
But perhaps I could find peace.
Seruf, far more powerful than I, would certainly not fear me, or look at me in repulsion as the humans had done. Could I live freely beneath her tutelage? Could I, perhaps, learn to control the fire that had long terrorized me?
A fluttering sensation rose in my throat. A peaceful life. It was all I’d ever wanted.
But what would that peace cost me?
The rolling sound of hoofbeats drew me away from my ponderings.
No less than a dozen human soldiers rode into Vaporia. They drew their snorting, panting horses to a halt, and grimly surveyed the debris surrounding them.
Seruf turned, her wings spasming as a flicker of annoyance crossed her face. The soldiers, likely blinded by the billowing clouds of ash and smoke, did not immediately see her.
“We’re too late!” a man said as he dismounted his horse.
“Search the buildings,” a woman called. Her horse shied when a smolderingskelton—skeleton of a home collapsed, sending embers into the sky. The woman snatched the animal’s reins, steadying it. “Move quickly. And bring the wounded to Quinn.”
