River leaned back. I focused so much on my emotions I didn’t even notice how tense he was. ‘That’s what they call themselves? It’s a fitting name given the shadows.’
‘Yes,’ I said, cracking the window. This tin of mingling scents wasn’t doing either of us any favours.
‘So do you… do you have shadows?’
Checking my phone for any messages from Miriam or father, I responded in a dismissive tone, ‘No, but that’s a long story.’
Shifting again, he allowed his arm back on the armrest. ‘We’ve got time, and I’ve been dying to know how you’ve been. So much has changed in your life since…’
Was he seriously trying to do this? Ignore everything that had happened and engage in chit-chat about our lives as if he hadn’t broken me?
I glared at him. ‘Since you traded me?’
‘If I could take back time, I—’
‘But we can’t take back time.’ I wasn’t ready for this, but I knew the journey ahead of us was long, and we couldn’t stay silent forever. ‘I should technically have shadows andwill most likely get them if they ever recuperate. My mother drained them to a sliver barely bigger than a rosebud. At least I feel them now. For a while, I thought I had none.’
River looked at me, his mesmerising eyes darkening beneath a deep frown as he promised, ‘She’ll pay for that.’
‘Oh, she will pay for a lot more than that. It’s just… she’s got my shadows and the grimoire she stole from my father, and she could do some real damage if she learns the weaves from that book,’ I expressed my worries as though it were old times and he was still the one I could confide in. It was an instinct that was difficult to get rid of.
Leather screeched beneath his iron grip on the steering wheel, and I looked away. ‘What’s in it?’
It felt silly to admit that I didn’t know. ‘I never asked. I’m not sure if I need another thing to worry about.’
We drove too fast to admire the lands in detail, the landscape turning blurry, but the road ran through a dense pine forest, very dissimilar to the one surrounding the Fogoyan castle.
The trees stood proud in their soaring height. They were old—the energy drifting through the air told me so—but it didn’t linger. The place didn’t mind me, but it remained wary. It could have been my foul mood.
‘You seem so tired; are you sleeping at all?’ River’s question tore through my thoughts.
And as much as I wanted to deny it… I missed this. Speaking to him used to bring me peace. His court offered me a home when I had none. Now every time he opened his mouth, I entered a duel with my fire to keep it contained in my body. It was tearing me apart. And I didn’t know which part of me would win. I didn't even know which part I wanted to win.
My witchcraft stirred to life as my thoughts drifted toward Ortensia and Willow. ‘I’m just busy lately. A lot has been happening the past few weeks.’
‘Want to talk aboutit?’ he asked, his expression softening under a tentative smile that never fully formed.
What could I even say? That he’d broken my trust, and opening up again would be like lowering my shield after he’d already struck me once? He was still holding the bow, still aiming at my heart. And I was meant to believe he wouldn’t fire this time?
‘Listen, Ava… I can’t sleep either.’ He swerved, stopping the car in an alcove by the side of the road. Then we sat in silence as he gathered his thoughts. ‘Every time I try to sleep, I see the pain in your eyes when you realised what I had done. These past two days I counted minutes until I could see you again. You wouldn’t believe how much Michael ridiculed me.’
I couldn’t contain a smirk. Michael probably gave him so much shit—I loved that.
‘I’m not asking you to forget what happened. I could never ask that of you, and I plan to make up for it for as long as I live… or as long as you allow me. All I am asking for is maybe we can just talk?’
Was he being reasonable? And could I ever agree to be cordial again? ‘Talk?’
‘I miss talking to you.' His voice broke, and the way his eyes glistened under the yellow ceiling light unsettled me.
Turning away once more, I wasn’t sure how to respond—only that I couldn’t bear the weight of his expectations. ‘I’m afraid that for you, talking would mean a phase that can progress further. I’m not sure, that’s possible.’
River dragged a hand down his face, covering it for a moment too long, as though he wasn’t sure what to make of my rejection. As though it were tearing him apart. ‘No expectations, I promise. If a conversation is all you ever give me, I’ll still die a happy man.’
Itseemed, no matter what I did, my heart kept getting broken. No matter whether I stayed away or allowed him back in, there wasn’t a perfect solution.
‘How about we retire that dying rhetoric? There’s an awful amount of death going around. Let's not tempt fate.’
He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself.
