“I can’t love you, Thyra,” I whisper. “I’m not capable of that emotion.”
Her response is quiet. “Iunderstand.”
She takes a deep breath, a sensation that pulls at me before she nudges herself closer to me, her hair tickling my face, her scent filling my chest.
“You may not be able love me,” she says, “but you will never speak a false claim of love to hurt me. You live and breathe your intentions, Stellen, and that’s all I want.”
I close my eyes.
That may be all she wants, but it’s far less than she deserves.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Maxim
Agony strikes through my chest.
I stumble against the Iron Tower I was creeping alongside, my eyes widening.
Fuck, no. Not now!
Every night, a blade vision has struck me, forcing me to seek the isolation of my cave for my own safety. My interaction with Antony proved that my mind is completely gone from my body during Thyra’s blade visions, making me vulnerable to death.
But tonight, I thought I had a reprieve.
The moon had reached its zenith and no vision had struck.
Now, I realize fate is playing a game with me.
Dawn is only two hours away. It’s much later than when the visions usually strike, but the stab of pain in my chest warns me I won’t have long, maybe only ten minutes, and now I have a decision to make.
I press up against the red stone of the Iron Tower, its massive structure casting a shadow that gives me the concealment I need to weigh my options.
For the last week, I’ve worked alongside my cousin Kaiba, fortifying our towers along the border, creating extra defensive points in between existing Ember Towers, and readying our troops to defend them. If I could have constructed more stone towers in that time, I would have, but they take months to build.
My warriors have trained all week, using sand to mimic the properties of iron dust, practicing burning it out of the air before it can disperse. What’s more, their clothing is already protective, their armor consisting of fire-resistant boots, long pants, and long sleeves, together with a cowl, hood, and most importantly, a face mask.
Then, today, eagles were sighted flying down from the north, delivering wooden chests to several Iron Towers across our border.
Now, unwanted flames flicker around my fingertips as I consider how I might get inside this Iron Tower as quickly as possible and find out what kind of weapons the eagles have been delivering.Beforethe blade vision strikes.
Of course, I could have sent a team of warriors instead of coming myself, and I was on the verge of doing just that when I saw from a distance what the crates are made of.
Ashen-brown wood. The same kind Antony is determined to collect. The same wood that’s resistant to my fire.
Whatever’s inside those crates, Hadrian must want to protect their contents from fire.
One option is to let my flames burn out of control. I could annihilate this tower, along with every Iron Fae in it, and retrieve the unharmed crates from the rubble.
But at the back of my mind is the concern that Hadrian might want me to do just that. I need to know what I’m dealing with first.
Before I can make amove, the eagles above the tower abruptly bank toward the east, then cast northward before disappearing out of my view.
At the same time, the concealed door at the base of the tower bursts open. Iron Fae pour from it and I brace for a fight, but they march away, also heading northward, their swords gleaming in the starlight on this side of the border.
I risk a quick glance to see if they’re taking up an attack formation, but no, they trek onward.
At the top of the tower, the final two eagles and their riders rise into the air, racing north in a flurry of wings.
