Is everyone all right?
Areyouall right?
They each got the same answer.It’s over. It’s gone.
Whether Amelie explained more, I hadn’t had the energy to notice or care. All I could think about was Aspen. The bomb. Aspen. The bomb.
It’s still all I can think about now as I wait for dawn to arrive.
No sooner than I catch the first blush of sunlight creeping behind the distant mountains, I’m on my feet. I cast a glance at Lorelei and Amelie. I don’t bother waking either of them before I retrieve the Chariot from my planter box and flip open the lid. I fill my mind with thoughts of the lighthouse. Varney Cove.
The light of the Chariot wraps around me, energy buzzing, humming, and growing. Seconds later I’m at the army camp. A gentle breeze carrying the tang of salt washes over me, bringing memories of fighting. Blood. A broken warship.
The camp is quiet, and seemingly empty, aside from the raven who flies overhead. Franco must be on guard duty. He caws down at me, but I can’t bring myself to offer so much as a halfhearted wave.
Lowering my head, I start toward the medical tent. As I draw near, movement rustles the tent flap, stealing my attention. A pale hand emerges first, then a heavily bandaged forearm. Finally, Aspen slowly limps out of the tent. His eyes find me at once. At the sight of my mate, my heart awakens for the first time since I found the bomb missing. There’s still a heaviness upon it, but my love for him releases me from the overbearing numbness I’ve felt all night.
With a strangled sob, I rush to him, closing the distance between us. His arms wrap around me, and I press myself to his chest, careful not to squeeze him too tight. He brushes a hand down my hair, saying nothing as I cry onto his bandaged chest.
When I think I can manage to find my voice amidst my sobs, I pull away and meet his eyes. There’s sorrow in them, something that tells me Estel has already warned him of her fears. “It’s gone,” I croak out.
He nods, shoulders drooped in resignation.
“It’s gone,” I repeat.
He lifts a hand to brush my cheek, lips pulling into a feeble smile. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
The followingdays proceed with tense sobriety. After returning to Irridae with the rest of the party from the lighthouse, the other royals leave for their own courts. Luckily, as soon as we settle in at home, Aspen’s wounds immediately begin to heal at a much more rapid pace, the tendrils of black receding from his skin more and more each day.
It’s the only thing that brings me comfort in all this. However, not even that can take away from the sense of doom that falls over me with every day that goes by, knowing any moment could bring the detonation of the Parvanovae. The end of everything I love.
On the sixth night since Mr. Duveau stole the bomb, Aspen convinces me to join him in the bath. I don’t know if he thinks I need to relax or if he’s noticed how badly I’ve been neglecting my bathing habits. Whatever the case, I follow him to our bathing chambers and into the enormous sunstone tub. The aromas that invade my senses bring me a comforting feeling of nostalgia—rosemary, marigold, cinnamon, and cloves. It smells like fall. Like Aspen. Like the baths he used to draw for me at Bircharbor Palace.
I bite back tears of gratitude as I recline at one end of the tub, the warm water reaching my shoulders. Aspen climbs in after me, watching me carefully as he lowers down at the opposite end.
I hate the way he eyes me like I’m made of glass. Somehow, he’s managed to handle the news of our impending doom with far more grace than I have.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
“I do.” I force a weak smile, although I can’t meet his eyes. Instead, I watch as sprigs of rosemary float over the surface of the water. Then a thought tugs my heart. “We should have a bath like this drawn for Amelie. She loved the ones at Bircharbor.”
“Already done,” he says.
This surprises me enough to bring my eyes to his. “Really?”
“Lorelei’s taking care of it.”
I blink a few times, taking in the sincerity on his face. “Thank you.”
Ever since our return, Aspen and I have had the royal bedroom all to ourselves, and Amelie has taken residence in the guest room next door. I must admit, part of me feels she’s still too far away.
For the first time, it isn’t distrust that makes me feel that way. After everything we’ve been through together, I feel closer to Amelie like never before. My heart is linked to hers. Not only that, but I worry about her. She’s been almost as withdrawn as I’ve been this past week. How will she recover from everything she’s done? From the loss of her vengeance? The loss of a mate she once loved and hated to equal degrees?
Then again, how much time will she even have to recover? How much time do any of us have?
Aspen’s touch brings me back to the present as he leans forward and runs a hand over one of my arms. “Are you all right?” he asks.
