“I mean…why bring me anything at all? Why are you being nice to me?” My face softens because this…this iskind.And I didn’t expect kind from Theo Bray.
“Careful, Little Flame,” he teases with a light chuckle. “Don’t forget I’m spoken for. I can’t have you falling for me.”
I glare at him.
One, because that wasn’t an answer.
And two, because sometimes the things that come out of his mouth are absolutely absurd.
He exhales, the humor fading from his features. “Fine. If you must know…” He stands, his muscles flexing as he pushes himself up from the chair. “You remind me of someone and giving you this,” he taps his pointer on the notebook. “Well, it’s something she would have done if she was able to.” His voice fades, and a terrible sadness crosses his face, instantly filling my gut with a sickening sort of dread.
I realize his cocky persona, the one he consistently has on display, it’s possible that it might be nothing more than a mask. And thatmask isn’t on right now, which means I might finally be seeing therealTheo Bray.
“Whyisn’tshe able to?” Unease twists my stomach, forming so many knots, I fear I’ll never stop feeling it.
His eyes don’t meet mine. They shift to the floor instead. “She was sent away.” The pain in his voice is unmistakable, the kind of pain that wreaks havoc on your soul, haunts every waking moment of your day.
“She’s the woman you love,” I murmur, more of a statement than a question.
There’s no way I’m wrong. Not with how he looks right now—so wrecked and unraveled.
“That she is.” He smiles, but it’s soft, and it doesn’t reach his eyes. “She stole my heart with a single glance. Impossible to ignore, impossible to forget.” He shakes his head. “But her scorching words were a pleasant bonus. You’d like her. If you two were to ever meet.”
“And why,” I hesitate, fearing it’s not my place to ask,knowingit’s not, but wanting an answer anyway. “Why was she sent away?”
He laughs. It’s a chilling sound, completely opposite from his usual tone. “She was a servant, and my mother…Well, let’s just say she did not approve of such things.”
“Theo, I’m so sor—”
“Save your pity, Little Flame,” he interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind. “For I plan to get her back.”
“Does she know that?”
“Oh, she better.”
“And where will you be getting her back from? Where did your mother send her?”
His eyes drop to the floor again, and he clears his throat, as though the words themselves are a wound too raw to touch. Like forcing them out is too painful to bear.
“To Bragunda.”
The name drops like a stone between us, crashing to the ground with a sickening crack I feel deep in my soul.
My eyes widen.
Bragunda.
But Bragunda doesn’t have servants…they haveslaves.
It’s been that way for centuries. Dozens perish every day because of the severe mistreatment, the relentless punishments for stepping no more than a fraction out of line.
They aren’t viewed as people, ashumans, and there are no signs of it ever changing.
News of what happens in Bragunda is spread throughout the villages, probably to make us realize that life could be worse, and that we should be grateful, and in a way, I am.
“Theo…how will you ever get her back from such a place?”
Wait a second…Jax had just been in Bragunda, and I am such anass.He must have gone there to findher,to bring her home.
