I clutched my stomach painfully. This was the third time this week the healers had come to the dining hall.
It was in that silence that my gaze lifted, and my heart jolted painfully. Standing near the doorway, looking utterly forlorn, was Rowan. His eyes met mine instantly—wide, filled with unmistakable regret.
He was asking for forgiveness.
I clenched my jaw, irritation flaring inside me.
After weeks without a word, after leaving me adrift in worry and confusion, he now dared to show his face, looking like a wounded animal. The relief at seeing him alive overshadowed the bitter edge of anger—just barely. But I wouldn’t let him know that.
With an exaggerated roll of my eyes, I stood abruptly, pushing my chair back sharply enough to cause a scraping sound.
“Let’s go,” I muttered quietly to Talia, who immediately followed my lead, clinging close as we left the dining hall without another backward glance.
I had barely made it a few steps into the hallway before I heard quick footsteps behind me. Rowan was following behind, and he wanted me to know it. I turned to face a shaken Talia.
I sweetened my voice as much as possible. “Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll catch up.”
Talia glanced back at Rowan, unsure. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She looked at me once more and then nodded. I waited until she was further down the corridor before I turned to Rowan. Without hesitation, I shoved him, my anger a palpable force within me.
“Three weeks,” I spat my words at him, scoffing bitterly in his face.
“Mavis, please—” Rowan’s voice was desperate, almost pleading.
“You disappeared forthree weeks. No warning—nothing.And now you show up and expect me to roll over at the sight of you looking sorry for yourself? No, that’s not how this works.”
“I don’t feel sorry for myself; I feel sorry for having left without leaving word.”
I stopped. “Then explain.”
I crossed my arms and tapped my foot expectantly.
He hesitated, searching my eyes. “I was handling commander duties.”
“Convenient timing,” I said sharply. “And what exactly were these duties?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but faltered, his hand halfway reaching for me before dropping weakly at his side. “I want to tell you—but I can’t.”
“Of course.” My voice dripped with contempt. “I almost forgot—you’re a Veiler. You were probably off murdering or kidnapping people. How silly of me to assume you were better than that.”
Rowan’s expression darkened, his voice lowering dangerously. “You knew exactly who I was when you kissed me.”
I glared at him, heat rising to my cheeks in anger and embarrassment.
“Apparently not.”
He reached for me again, desperation bleeding into his gaze. “Mavis—”
I stepped back sharply, distancing myself from him.
“I have a session to get to.”
Without another word, I turned and left him standing there, frustration and hurt still simmering fiercely beneath my skin.
Chapter 43
“A pure spirit is not without its grief.
Without the dark, there is no light.”
