“You should never have been here.” His eyes shift to me and, for a moment, all the sorrow a person was ever capable of is mine. He gives it all to me. Sympathy. Empathy. Longing. “This is a nightmare no others should endure.”
Ilryth rises, suspended in the air as though it were water. He extends a hand to me and I regard it warily. My palm slides against his and, for a heartbeat, he does nothing but grip my fingers. I meet his intent stare and a thousand unspoken words pass between us. Nothing is said. But an understanding that transcends words sinks into me like the warmth of his fingers. In that fleeting breath, the barriers between us aren’t as strong as either of us would like. We gain a rare glimpse into the other’s soul.
There is a part of me that wants to withdraw. To hide my face and my heart. But a lonely corner belonging to a woman who cried one too many nights alone, craving the comfort of an embrace, wants nothing more than to linger here. For this moment to drag on long enough that my pain becomes a shared burden. Even if the idea of someone else truly seeing my raw and tired heart is as terrifying as carving out a piece of it and handing it over.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he whispers as the howling begins to pick up, breaking the trance.
I nod, unable to say anything more.
With a flap of his tail, he swims upward through the air. I am pulled along with him, weightless. The air rushes across my skin and it’s the first thing I feel.
No…not air.
Tiny bubbles.
I blink ahead as we rise toward the sun and away from the roaring underneath us. The world continues to fracture, spiderweb cracks chasing us upward. Ilryth glances down, continuing to soar with strong strokes of his tail.
“Hold on.”
I squeeze his hand tighter.
The bubbles rush over me. We crash into the branches of the tree and are met with blinding light. I let out a gasp and flinch on instinct, waiting for pain. But there is none.
I blink as the light fades—no longer blinded by it. I am still hovering above Ilryth in his bed. Lucia’s fingertips are still over mine, resting on his temples. But now, his eyes are open.
The duke stares up at me, as if he is trying to crawl back into my mind. Then, as reality crashes around us both, his brow furrows with anger. His gaze shifts to Lucia, who lets out a surprised chirp and pulls her hands away.
“How dare you involveher.”
CHAPTER9
“Your Grace, I—I—”Lucia quickly swims away.
“This is not the business of a human. She should not even be here,” Ilryth seethes.
I take that as my cue to swim away as well. The sound of a man’s rage has a cloying, grasping feeling working its way up my spine, gripping the back of my neck.Get away, every instinct demands. The water is cooler with distance between us. Easier to move through. There’s a riptide to Ilryth’s proximity that’s almost inescapable. I stare at my yet-tingling fingertips, half expecting them to still glow and bubble.
“Ilryth,” Sheel says firmly. I’ve never heard one of them say his name plainly, without any kind of honorific attached. I’m surprised the first I hear do it is Sheel, rather than one of the women whom I presume are his sisters. Now that I’ve seen their mother, the familial resemblance between him, Fenny, and Lucia cannot be denied. Sheel’s act does the trick and Ilryth stills. “You were in a bad way. Not even responsive this time around. Lucia needed to resort to drastic measures to pull you back before the wraiths consumed your soul and took over your body.”
Ilryth looks back to the young woman with a hateful glint to his eyes. I can’t stop myself from crossing to her. I rest a hand on Lucia’s shoulder. He doesn’t mean his anger, he can’t. Goodness knows there are times I wanted to throttle Em and all it took was a reminder of how in the wrong I was in the moment to quench my rage completely.
“She did everything she could to help you. You should bethankingher, not scolding her,” I say firmly.
“You don’t even know of what you speak.” He seems like he’s barely able to hold himself back from redirecting all that rage at me. But heisable…which makes him better than many I’ve known.
“I might not know the details of your magic—since all of you have yet to properly tell me,” I add with a slight bitter note. “But I know what a man misplacing his anger and hurt on a young woman who doesn’t deserve it looks like.” The words echo in my mind, chafing, a little too raw. They’re words I wish I’d had the grace, or opportunity, to say to Charles. Instead, he always seemed to get the better of me. The young woman I was back then cowered time and again to the point that I’m surprised her spine didn’t break.
But I’m not her anymore. I’m better. If I can fight Charles to the bitter end, through all his threats and jabs, I can stare down a siren duke.
Ilryth points at me, eyes narrowing. A noise of disgust ripples across my thoughts and he shakes his head, turning away. With his back toward Lucia, he murmurs, “Thank you for your assistance, Lucia.”
“Always, Your Grace.” Lucia bows her head. She glances in my direction. “Thank you, but that wasn’t necessary.”
I get the sense the words were only to me and try to reciprocate, focusing on her and her alone. “I don’t care if he’s a duke or a pauper. I’m not going to stand by and let someone treat you that way.”
“It really is fine. I know my brother,” she says with a note of sorrow. Almost of pity. And confirms my suspicions about the familial resemblance. “The trench is hard on any…especially those with many burdens to bear. The wounds of the wraiths are deep and difficult; they’re meant to destroy the soul.”
“We all endure deep and difficult wounds. They’re not an excuse for handling oneself in a boorish manner.” I squeeze her shoulder before releasing. “Never compromise your worth, not for anyone, not even for family.” The words come naturally—I said variants of them enough to my own sister.
