Chapter 28
Inever believed this day would come. That I would be on a ship, sailing toward a home I thought I’d never see again. Yet, as I sit here, my joy is tainted.
Daed. My dark prince. My husband.My betrayer.
I don’t want to believe anything Lanneth said, but her words cling to me, haunting the corners of my mind. He wasn’t there when I needed him. And though I try to deny it, there are questions swirling in my head, questions I can’t answer, no matter how hard I try.
But still, despite everything, my heart aches for him. Souls, how it aches. Not only has Daed betrayed me—he has betrayed my heart. The heart that foolishly made me care for him. The betrayal cuts deeper than I ever imagined.
I wince as I sit in the chair, my back throbbing from absorbing Zyphoro’s wound. She lies asleep on the cot, her breathing shallow, while Solena carefully sets my broken fingers. I glance at my hand, recalling how I healed myself against Gygarth, how the green light had surged through me. I still don’t understand it. Until I do, I’ll have to heal the old-fashioned way. Nowthat I’m free from Baev’kalath and the rituals of the demon’s worshipers, I should recover. Although the weight of Ashen weaved through my hair is putting a crick in my neck. It appears to be his new favorite place to hide and sleep.
“Do you know who she is?” I ask, gritting my teeth as Solena sets the second finger.
“No,” Solena replies, her voice low, cautious. “But Arax has seen many more dawns and dusks than I have.”
“He won't say,” I mutter, frustration creeping into my tone. “Claims it's not his place.”
“Then you'll have to wait for her to tell you,” Solena says, which only deepens my irritation. “But she’s powerful—no question about that. I’ve only ever seen one other with abilities like hers.”
I nod, the name heavy on my lips. “Daedalus.”
Solena’s hands still for a moment, but then she resumes her work. “Yes.”
“Does that mean she’s infused with the void as well?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Solena sighs, a shrug barely visible as she finishes with my fingers. “I do not dare to presume the workings of the void. But to my eyes, that is how it seems.”
I watch her tidy up the bandages and splints, her head hanging low. There’s a quiet sadness in the air around her, one I can’t ignore.
“You’re unhappy to be here?” I ask softly.
Solena looks up, a half-smile tugging at her lips, but her eyes betray her. “I fear I will never see Orios again.”
Her pain weighs on me like a burden I can’t lift. Guilt gnaws at me, the realization sinking in deeper than before. “I’m sorry, Solena. I should never have dragged you into this.”
She shakes her head as she heads for the cabin door. “No, don’t be sorry. I came of my own accord. And though I may notbe awakened like you, for the first time, I feel alive. I’m glad to be here with you…” She pauses, her smile blooming like the first warm light after a storm. “With my friend.”
Her words are a balm I hadn’t realized I needed, a warmth that reaches deep into the cold places inside me. Solena will never know just how much I treasure them.
“I’ll leave you to rest,” she says softly. “The ship seems to know its course, and the weather is stable. We should reach land soon.”
“Thank you, Solena,” I murmur as she closes the door behind her.
I force myself to my feet, every muscle protesting as I make my way toward the cot across from Zyphoro’s. She sleeps soundly, her chest rising and falling with each steady breath. Her body heals while mine aches with the strain of mending her wound. I know I must sleep to recover, but something catches my eye—something glimmering beneath the deep neckline of her vest.
My heart stutters in my chest. I would know that glow anywhere.
I carefully reach down, not wanting to disturb her, holding my breath as I pinch the leather cord around her neck. Slowly, I lift it, and the luminous stone slips from beneath her leathers, cool and smooth against my fingertips.
A moonstone, hewn in half.
The sight of it sends a harsh pang through my chest, and a gasp escapes my lips. The soft sound is enough to make Zyphoro stir, and I quickly stumble backward, collapsing onto my cot as she rolls to her side, the necklace now hanging in plain view.
I can’t tear my eyes away from it—the broken orb glimmers softly in the dim light. I know who wears the other half of that moonstone, though I wish I didn’t. I don’t want to admit what it could mean. That stone is precious to him, and whoever wears the other half… they must be just as cherished.
I lie on my side, my back aching but no longer caring, only staring at the shimmering half-stone as if it might hold all the answers I’m too afraid to ask. Tears threaten to break free, but I close my eyes, forcing them back.
Sleep.I tell myself.Just sleep.
