Arianna had been the one to declare their next destination. It was the most logical move. Only Talon desiredto see Levea firsthand. Perhaps part of the male hoped the rumors weren’t true, that the story was just another of Vairik’s fabrications.
Grief never made anyone rational.
Nàdair. The warriors there would give Arianna an army. A place where she’d be safe and the staff within the infirmary would happily look after Ellie.
Arianna’s sister was yet another topic of disagreement. Raevina thought leaving her behind would help them travel faster, but there was no way in the seven hells Rion was leaving without Ellie. He’d carry her all the way to Nàdair himself if he had to.
Rion tilted his head back, staring up into the dreary sky. Ash fell in slow rivulets, blanketing the ground in gray hues that matched the empty dregs of his broken heart.
He let his body fall against the tree behind him and the rough bark bit into the back of his scalp. Rion clenched his jaw, fighting the emotions clawing their way to the surface.
He hadn’t failed. He’d saved her. They’d come out alive. Most of them, anyway. He needed to be thankful for that at least.
I don’t want him in here.
Arianna’s words cut through him all over again. He’d tried not to listen in, but his traitorous heart wouldn’t stop straining to soak in every word.
Talon had given him a pitying look before ascending the stairs. Saoirse was worried. Zylah avoided his prodding gaze. The heavy silence had been enough for Rion to grab a bottle of whiskey, a cup, then disappear from the room entirely.
He’d downed two full glasses before Talon had even entered her room.
Rion almost wished Vairik had simply shoved a poisoned dagger through his heart. That would have certainly hurt less,but Rion was beyond wishing for death. He had too much to live for now.
Not just Arianna, Ellie, and Talon, but an entire continent of people who were turning to him, just like Ellie had promised they would. He’d fight for them and he’d fight for Arianna’s memories even harder.
Even if they won the war and she still didn’t remember. Even if she commanded his imprisonment or death, he’d fight. He’d made a vow, after all, and he’d rather see his heart shattered a million times over before he’d ever break that vow.
Rion slid down the tree, letting both legs stretch out before him. He poured another glass and threw the liquid back, wincing slightly as it seared the back of his throat. He wished he had something stronger. Maybe he’d raid Saoirse’s personal stash once they reached Nàdair.
Thankful, Rion reminded himself, even as the alcohol numbed parts of his mind. The false Ashling, the cursed city, was no more, which meant Vairik no longer had a stronghold where he could continue conducting all those heinous experiments. They were currently tucked away from the enemy’s prying eyes, which gave everyone a chance to heal before they embarked on another long journey.
Thankful.
Rion closed his eyes and focused on the air expanding his lungs.
He’d been dealt a lot of pain in his life, probably more than most could ever hope to endure. But this—he sighed. Gods, this was truly the pinnacle of it all. This was the tipping point.
To know the one person he cared for above all else wanted nothing to do with him.
Talon and Saoirse had already tried to reason with him, of course. They claimed Vairik’s hold likely wasn’t permanent, and that, given time, Arianna would regain her memories.
He knew that deep down, but they didn’t seem to understand that she’d been the first one to reallyseehim. Other than Saoirse, Arianna had been the first to ever afford him mercy. To witness that hatred in her eyes now, to see the fear …
Vairik had come so close to severing their bond. All that remained was a slight wisp of a thing. A thread so minute that he didn’t dare pull on it, lest the pressure completely shatter their connection.
He craved that connection. Needed it the way one needed oxygen to survive.
You’ll have it again. You’ll help her remember.
There wasn’t another choice. Eternity without her wasn’t something he could face.
He’d carved a path through every obstacle in his life with brute force and efficiency, but he couldn’t fight this. There was nothing to battle with his hands or magic. In the past, he’d pushed his body to the absolute breaking point until his mind had been consumed by nothing but sweat, blood, and pain.
He wanted that now. To disappear into the numbness of it all. But there wasn’t anyone here who could handle his unhinged wrath. Nor could he risk exposing them with the wild nature of his magic.
He wouldn’t do anything to put Arianna in danger, no matter how volatile his emotions.
Rion downed another drink, letting the burning liquid sit in his mouth. The sharp, smoky bitterness burst over his tongue for several seconds before he swallowed and let the fire coat his throat again. He almost wished his body wasn’t numbing to the sensation.
