Indignation thrummed through me and I glared up at him. “I care about the girl. There. Now tell me.”
Xavier shook his head, the white strand swaying over his brow. “Tell me you care about me, Zara. Not her.”
I blinked. He can’t be serious?
“I’ll know if you lie.”
I swallowed back my retort. My denials. Though I wanted to voice them. This was a game to him. He was using Cynthia to force this from me, and I wouldn’t take the bait. I won’t.
“So stubborn,” he breathed, his gaze lowering to my lips. They parted as if on instinct, and I quickly pressed them together into a thin line. “After everything you have done, love, I don’t owe you anything,” Xavier practically spat, and I could feel his pain, his grief over his uncle course through me.
“Then why did you take me, Xavier?”
He was quiet, the air between us charging as his eyes slid over my face, my body, making me shiver. Xavier exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
“I'll send someone to heal you.”
Fear of possibly seeing Julian crashed over me again, but Xavier added coldly, “I'm not doing this for your benefit.”
My brows pinched, and I wanted to ask what he meant, but his hands shot out, his palm landing across my nose, the other on the back of my head. That awful stench filled my nostrils again, and the world blurred as my limbs went weak.
Muscular arms caught me as I fell unconscious… again.
Chapter 23
Dedra
I watched my muddy boots as I took a step, and then another. The tavern’s stairway was narrow, and I had to hunch my shoulders as I made my way up it. Liquid sloshed in my tankard, spilling over its edge and down the sides. I wasn’t sure if it was from my being inebriated or because of my shaking, but either way I didn’t care. I was numb, and I didn’t know what to do about it. This kind of grief, this hollowness, wasn’t good for me, and the only person who ever understood me was gone.
I arrived this morning and didn’t bother going up to the castle—I couldn’t. Not yet. I was too angry, too fragile.
I had gotten the news in a letter. In a fucking letter. A letter that now burned in my pocket, crumpled and worn. The ink bled and blurry from my stained tears. The ride into the village only added to my grief. Half of Blackrock was in ruins. Theo had warned me in that letter, but seeing it, seeing the death and destruction—it was too much. But this tavern was still standing. The same tavern Theo and I had lived and worked at whenwe became old enough to leave the castle. When Flynn had to focus on Xavier and Jaxon.
This tavern was like a second home in a way. It was run by the same couple, Cameron and Elida, and the moment they had seen me walking through the doors, they both embraced me in a way that had me wanting to fall apart in their arms. But I didn’t let myself. Instead, we talked and had a few drinks before they insisted I get rest. I refused, not wanting to be alone just yet, but after my fourth ale, they insisted again. I would have argued with them, but there was no point. It didn’t matter. Nothing did.
I reached the top of the stairs and swayed slightly before turning down the hall. I approached a weathered wooden door, and with a push, it creaked open. Stumbling toward the bed, I fell onto it, spilling more of my ale, but I still didn’t care. My fingers clutched it tighter, and I took a long sip from it, the ale slithering down the back of my throat.
I remembered nothing from before the fire—the one that took our parents from Theo and me. Not a single memory. Theo didn’t either. All we had was Flynn. He always checked on us. Made sure we were cared for, and it was because of him we never had to worry. Because of him, we had Xavier and Jaxon in our lives. We were the only kids he’d let them be close to growing up, besides Aria. He saved our lives, and we owed him everything. And now I’d never be able to tell him… thank him… see him.
A sob ripped through me, and I clutched the ale in my hands harder, like it was the only thing holding me together. I hated this, hated this feeling. It was all-consuming. I was never good at controlling my emotions. Flynn knew this about me. Always tried to help me control it. He had always seen me, thereal me. Known who I was at my core. But now I felt like that same scared little girl who had lost everything again, and this time I didn’t have anyone to help pull me back from it.
Grief twisted to anger so fast it almost made me laugh. Anger was easier. And that was the worst part about it. I blamed him. Blamed him for causing this mess. And I blamed Xavier for not protecting him, for not letting me see Flynn at the end. For stealing those last moments from me. I could’ve had more time. I could’ve… I launched the ale across the room, the tankard smashing apart against the wall. I watched as its liquid ran down the weathered wooden slats and onto the uneven floor. Clutching at my hair, I fought with the tight bun, tearing at it until my hair fell loose and free around my shoulders. Its strawberry ends crinkled and frayed.
My body was shaking, desperate todestroysomething, and my hand found the hilt of my sword. It sliced through the air as I turned and struck, again and again at the mattress until it was nothing but a pile of splintered wood and feathers.
My heart was pounding, and guilt crashed through me as I stared down at the destruction.
I dropped to my knees. The sword clattering to the floor beside me, the sound too loud in the silence. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I bowed my head until my hair veiled my face. Fresh tears slid down my cheeks as my body shook, and I crumpled onto the heap of feathers, sobbing until I couldn’t breathe.
Chapter 24
Jaxon
I stood at the top of the dungeon stairs and waited for my brother. I regretted provoking Zara, I should never have let her get so close. She nearly kissed me, and why had I almost let her? I knew what she was doing, but I had let it happen, let it play out. A small part of me wanted it, still wanted her.
I shook my head, dismissing the thought. She wasn't mine, and the distant ache and pulse I felt were nothing more than an echo, a scar. My brother's soul had been ripped, and now a part of their bond, a piece of his soul, was stitched onto mine, forever serving as a stark reminder of what I had done. This ache, this connection was just the damned cost, my soul forever forged, tainted.
And that had only been for a few months… but Zara?
