She might not be his ever again, but he would always be hers.
Slowly, the fire around them dimmed. The flames coating his skin fell away. Until it was just them, clutching hands. “You are strong. Never forget.”
Oro watched her gaze drop to his wrist, where he kept her golden rose necklace wrapped around and around, against his pulse. It washis most prized possession. Her lips parted, before she blinked. “What do you need?” she asked. “What can I do?” She said it even as she sat in a cell, imprisoned, on a different world.
Oro focused on calming his breathing, his pulse settling, and that was when he realized there was, possibly, something she could help him with.
“Your portaling device. Do you know where it is?” He needed it to warn the newlands and get help to fight against the beasts.
She frowned, as if trying to remember. It had only been days, but it felt like so much longer. “Lark had it,” she finally said. “Neither of you found it?”
Oro shook his head.
She looked to her side. Oro wondered what she saw. “Let me see what I can do.”
ISLA
Isla couldn’t pretend that telling her where the starstick was would benefit Lark at all. But maybe...maybe there was something else Lark wanted.
“What do you want?” Isla said. “Name your price.”
Lark looked over at her. “Cronan’s heart, on a platter.”
“I’m working on it,” Isla said. “What else?”
Lark considered. She took a deep, rattling breath. Silence stretched, and Isla wondered if her ancestor would refuse to answer in immortal stubbornness. But then she spoke. “My feather,” she said.
The object Lark had used to store her abilities. The feather Isla had found in Aurora’s room.
“It’s here,” Lark continued. “Yourhusbandhas it. I can feel it.”
Isla winced, thinking about the last time she had seen Grim, hours before. He had made it overtly clear what he thought of her.
But Oro wouldn’t have asked about the starstick if he didn’t desperately need it. The beasts were only coming through because he and Grim had opened the portal to save her.
“I’ll get it for you,” Isla promised.
As Grim steered her through the dungeon hours later, it seemed like he was trying to stand as far away from her as possible. It wasn’t hard to wonder why. He had seen his destiny as clearly as she had.
But if she was going to have a chance at defeating Cronan, and if she was going to get that feather, she needed Grim to be on her side. If it was impossible for him to regain his lost memories...then they would have to create new ones.
When they had first met, they had both been in prisons. She was locked in her Wildling room, trapped by the role she had been born into and by her powerlessness. He couldn’t escape his duty to his people and his monstrous reputation.
Somehow, together, they had broken free.
That same Grim who fell in love with her was somewhere in there. And wasn’t this just the truest test of love? Seeing if they would be able to fall for each other, again and again?
During the Centennial, even with her memories erased, she had started to have feelings for him. She had to believe he could do the same.
She wouldn’t accept the deal Cronan offered. She’d find another way. She wasn’t leaving here without her husband.
“Your hope is pathetic,” Grim snarled, his deep voice rumbling through the tunnels of the dungeons.
“It isn’t,” she whispered. “You will find your way back to me. I know it.”
At that, he whirled her around so she was facing him. They were at the end of the tunnel, and light poured through, illuminating his face. It was clean—hers was covered in a layer of grime.
He gripped the front of her shirt and dragged her before him so they were just inches apart. But there was absolutely nothing loving about the movement. He bared his teeth and said, “You are nothing to me. You areno one.”
