Page 165 of Burn of the Everflame

“You’re back already?” Alixe asked, emerging from the palace. “I thought you were going to stay in Umbros for a few days.”

“Change of plans,” I muttered, then quickly filled her in on the details of our disastrous visit.

“Luther will be glad to see you home,” she said when I’d finished. She glanced around. “I’m surprised he’s not here. Usually he senses you coming long before you arrive.”

I hated that I was a little bit grateful my flameroot-dulled aura had masked my return. I hated even more than I’d still been gutted to not see him waiting for me on the palace steps.

“He’s in the forest, gathering firewood for the Guardians. I told him we didn’t need it. The Ignosians offered to keep the campfires burning with their magic.” She smiled proudly. “Even for the Guardians.”

That was no small victory. When the Ignios refugees first arrived, the rancor between the two groups had been palpable. I’d asked Nidara and my mother to work together to mend it, but it wasn’t until Runa and Enness’s group had arrived, allowing both camps to see mortals and Descended living together as friends, that their efforts began to make progress.

“I can send someone to get him,” Alixe offered.

“No,” I said quickly—too quickly. “I, uh . . . I’m sure he’ll find me later. Could you arrange some food for Sorae instead?”

She nodded and left, and I stroked Sorae’s fur as I helped Teller unlatch our bags from her back. “You should go see him,” he said.

“Tel,” I warned, “leave it alone.”

“I’m your brother. It’s my job to tell you when you’re being an idiot.”

“You’re in the Royal Guard now. It’s your job to obey your Queen.”

“I’m off duty,” he fired back. “Go see him.”

“You know what, carry your own books upstairs.” I whipped around, storming across the lawn and up the palace steps.

“You remember what you told me at the Challenging?” he called out.

Against my better judgment, I stopped.

“You said that if I found someone I loved, I should hold on to them with everything I’ve got.” He hauled his bags over his shoulder and walked up the steps, pausing at my side. “I made the wrong choice when I walked away from Lily. I had all the right reasons to do it, but it was still the wrong choice. I will always regret it.”

I squeezed my eyes closed to fight the emotion burning behind them.

“Go see him, D.”

He walked inside, leaving me alone on the steps.

My hand trembled as it slipped beneath the fabric of my gown to touch the silvery mark on my chest—two hearts and a dagger. The hearts, I understood. I felt the echo of Luther’s heart in my chest every day. But the dagger . . . how could a tool of violence symbolize something that brought me such a feeling of peace?

Because it’s not about the violence, my conscience scolded, as if it was something I already knew. Something I’d always known. It’s a reminder of what you do for the ones you love.

“Fight,” I whispered.

I turned, and I ran.

Across the grounds, past the Guardians’ camp, and into the forest. Into my home.

Toward my home.

I shouldn’t have been able to find him. The flameroot had suffocated most effects of the mating bond, and yet my feet moved with purpose, reeled in by the unexplainable thread that had always bound our souls together, even before I’d ever pledged mine to him.

He was standing near a stream, his back to me, a cart filled with splintered logs at his side. An axe dangled from one hand, and the other was raised, casting a perfect likeness of the moon nestled among the branches. He’d removed his shirt, and the light of his illusion gilded his sweat-soaked skin in a silvery halo.

I watched, transfixed, as stars glimmered around him as if plucked from the evening sky and brought to earth. It was so much like the illusion he’d crafted for me before that I knew this was for me. Practice, maybe, so he could do it again if I asked.

Even when I pushed him away, he still found ways to be my light in the dark.