Page 29 of Hero of Havoc

“When your father hears…”

My jaw falls slack as I gape at her, the rest of her sentence unheard as I blink at her, my pulse too loud for her words to register.

“You don't know,” I breathe, and she snarls.

"Don't interrupt me.”

Ice washes over me as I shake my head softly. “You don't know,” I repeat, a whisper of empathy running through me.

“What don't I know?” she snaps back, extinguishing the sympathy that coated my veins a moment ago.

“Father,” I rasp, and her eyebrows furrow as she purses her lips.

“What about him?”

I take a deep breath and let the two words fall from my mouth. “He's dead.”

She freezes in place, her grip slacking around Ember enough for her knuckles to stop turning white, but Ember can't seem to break free, and despite my need to help my sprite, I’m worried any sort of movement from me could send this woman into a purple inferno.

“No, he isn’t,” she declares, shaking her head, and I gulp.

“I saw it with my own eyes,” I promise, and she huffs, unable to take me at my word.

“No one would dare,” she insists, and I suck in a deep breath.

“It was Leonardo.”

My words hang in the air for a split second before my mother's eyes roll and her hand falls loose.

A flash of red begins to fall from her hand, and I move on instinct this time, diving across the room just in time to catch Ember before she hits the floor. I barely save my chin from smashing into the ground as I cradle Ember, aching inside at the sound of her pained whimper, while my mother combusts in a rage of heat, her eyes wide, and her whole body consumed by an inferno.

Panic floods my veins as I hurry to my feet, ready to make a run for it and protect Ember, when my bedroom door bursts open, revealing a snarling white tiger standing at the threshold, making my heart lurch in my chest.

In the blink of an eye, my mother shifts, her burning aura unraveling into a phoenix, just like last time, as she darts for the window.

I'm close, my free hand moving on instinct as I reach for her, to do what, I have no idea, but stopping her is impossible. Her feathers ghost over the tips of my fingers as she launches through the window, leaving destruction in her wake once again.

With Ember pressed against my chest, I stand in the open space, gaping at the flash of red that flies off into the distance. My heart beats wildly as I try to wrap my head around what the hell just happened.

Movement from behind me reminds me I'm not alone as the door clicks shut. I glance over my shoulder to find my white tiger standing guard, but I quickly redirect my attention to the wounded sprite in my hold.

“Ember?”

“I’m okay,” she whispers, her voice thick with anguish, and it cuts me up inside.

“Ember, I’m right here. It’s going to be okay,” I promise, emotions gathering at the back of my eyelids, but I refuse to shed a tear and reveal my weakness. Not for my own vulnerabilities, but because Ember deserves all of my strength. “I’m so sorry, Ember. So sorry,” I repeat, and she shakes her head.

“It’s not your fault,” she promises, and I scoff.

“She’s my mother. She was hurting you to hurt me. It’s definitely my fault,” I insist. “What can I do to help you?”

The sadness consuming me is uncontrollable, but I want to remain strong. Then a memory floods my thoughts. I exhale slowly before taking in a deep breath, and when I exhale for a second time, I let my emotions get the better of me.

Tears swim at the bottom of my eyelids, spilling out without caution or fear, and I let them.

I make no attempt to stop them as they roll down my cheeks, forming like droplets on my chin before they meet their intended mark.

Ember.