Burn of the Everflame — Chapter 46

46

DIEM

orae watched the sky as Tybold left, her eyes fixed on the spot where heS had faded into the evening dark. If I knew how to rebuild the bond between us, I might have done it right then and there, if only so she didn’t have to endure her pain alone.

But my beloved gryvern was used to suffering on her own. As generations lived and died around her, solitude had been her constant. When Teller—shirtless, with flushed cheeks and rumpled hair—and Lily—lips swollen, dress askew—emerged onto the terrace to investigate the noise, Teller reached to comfort her, and Sorae ducked away. She curled into a corner and hid her head beneath her wings.

“Thank the Blessed Mother,” someone muttered. “Our gryvern is smarter than our Queen.”

The crowd smashed back into focus. A ring of glaring faces surrounded me on every side. I’d taken a priceless power away from my army, and they

hated me for it.

And I hated them back.

The Descended had every advantage, yet their hunger for more was insatiable. They raged at any tip of the balance in anyone else’s direction, even though their thumbs were glued to the scales. And the mortals knew what it felt like to be those gryverns, stripped of their voice and forced to submit. It disgusted me to see them so eager to put others in the very same chains they had fought to escape.

Could no one be content without someone to crush beneath their heel?

I stormed away from Luther and shoved a path through the crowd, my anger rising with every disapproving look and mumbled jab. I aimed for my

tent in camp, but at the sight of my mother standing beside it, I almost fled for the forest instead.

“You did the right thing,” she said as I approached.

“No one else seems to think so.”

“They’re scared, that’s all. Today made the war more real for everyone.

They’re realizing how much is at stake if Ophiucae wins.”

And you just made that outcome a lot more likely.

She didn’t say it, but it was true.

I told myself I didn’t care. I reminded myself that I’d done the right thing, and I made a promise that I would never let any goal make me as

ruthless as my sire.

I just wasn’t sure I believed it.

“You did the right thing this morning, too,” she said, a bit more gently.

“Sometimes, death can be a mercy. You’re a healer, you know that.”

“I’m not a healer anymore.”

“You will always be a healer, Diem. It’s in your heart.”

Her words wound around my chest, squeezing tight.

My hand brushed against my empty scabbard. “Vance ordered those people to kill me, but they acted like I wasn’t even there. Ophiucae must have kept them from hurting me.” My gaze met hers. “He has my sword.

He knows I plan to use it against him. Why is he still protecting me?”

Her mouth tightened. “Maybe it wasn’t protection. Maybe he knew what would happen, and he wanted to force you to be the one to do it.”

A sick, oily feeling coated my stomach.

“Diem,” she started again, moving closer. “Maura told me you made a grave for Andrei. I want to visit it, and I’d like you and your brother to come with me. I think it’s time for the three of us to go home.”

I flinched. “We don’t have a home anymore. The house is gone. There’s nothing left.”

“Our memories are left. Those can’t be destroyed.”

I barely managed to hold back a retort at the irony of her words, given the day’s events. After what I’d seen in Henri’s head, the thought of going back to the place my father died felt more terrifying than ever.

The sounds of weeping drew my eyes over my mother’s shoulder to the campfire. Maura had her arms around Lana, who was holding her belly and sobbing. When I’d banished Henri, I hadn’t given much thought to what would happen to her or their child.

The nausea in my gut hardened and heavied. I backed away, overwhelmed by a frantic need to escape the choices I’d made and the consequences they’d brought down on everyone around me.

“Diem, stop,” my mother called out. “Where are you going?”

I was walking away before I could answer. Past my mother, past the camp, and into the forest.

THE CHIRPS and howls of the woods had always been a source of comfort.

Although the people of Emarion had never fully welcomed me, the land did. It could be unforgiving, quick to take the lives of any who weren’t wise enough to respect it, but for those who took the time to learn its secrets, the forest was a confidante, a benefactor, a protector, a home. In the company of the trees, I never felt alone.

I wasn’t alone tonight, either. As I wove through the trunks, footsteps at my back matched me step for step, and the burning mark on my chest told me who it was.

He didn’t grab me or call for me to stop. He simply followed behind, my steadfast shadow, forever ready to love me when I was ready to accept it.

Guilt slowed me to a stop. “You told me once that you’d run away with me,” I said bleakly. “You said we’d find ourselves a cute little house somewhere boring.”

“I remember,” he said. “I was promised goats.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out sounding pathetic and small.

His warmth heated my back as he moved closer behind me. “We could still do it. Build our cottage on the sea. Plant an apple orchard for Sorae and

Tybold.”

My heart stumbled. “Tybold’s gone.”

“He’ll be back.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

Luther hummed thoughtfully. “He will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because of how I feel for you.” His hand curled around my waist, holding me against him. “If the Kindred cast us apart like they did the gryverns, my love would survive every stolen moment. If they bound me to the will of another, my love for you would be the vow that their command could never break. I would love you across realms and centuries, and when fate brought us together again, I would love you all the more.” He pressed a kiss to my hair. “We found our way back to each other. So will they.”

In the dark gulf of my soul, my brittle heart collapsed under the weight of the unbearable night, and when I could not endure a second more, the ghost of his heart sang its hopeful tune to call me, crawling and battered, back to the sun.

But after all that happened today, sunlight and hope felt too far away. I wanted to stay in the darkness where I belonged.

“Distract me,” I whispered.

I spun in his arms and clutched his shirt, dragging him closer. My mouth crushed against his, and the need it kindled spread like a wildfire. I raked a hand through his hair and scraped another down his chest, then grabbed his belt and dragged him with me as I hurried backward.

His hand curled around my head to soften the blow as I slammed us against the trunk of a massive oak. A part of me warmed at the gesture— how he always found ways to protect me, even from myself—but the scratch of the rough bark fed a different, darker emotion.

My hand slipped into his pants and pumped his hardening length. “You still haven’t taken me against a tree.”

His cock twitched in my hand. “Diem,” he groaned.

“I want you to fuck me,” I said, my tone harsher.

My thumb swirled around the bead of arousal at his tip, and he wasted no time giving in. He captured my mouth, and my tongue goaded him on in aggressive, prodding strokes. We tore at each other’s clothes, and though I knocked his hand away every time he reached to rip off the top of my leathers, he was easily distracted by the sloppy, ravenous quest to find skin.

My nails dug into the rippling muscles of his back. “Take me hard, Luther. Make me scream.”

Make it loud enough that I can’t hear the thoughts in my head, I wanted to say.

He shoved my pants down to my knees, my thighs squeezing as the chilly air hit my slick, sensitive center. His fingers circled my throbbing clit,

pinching just firmly enough to send fire through my blood but soft enough to stay this side of pleasure, not pain.

Tonight, though, pleasure wasn’t my vice of choice.

I bit down hard on his lip, hoping to push him into responding in kind, but his touch turned even more tender. One hand rose to lightly brush a lock of fallen hair from my face, and a small sound of frustration slipped out of me.

Luther broke the kiss. His brows twitched down as he studied my face.

I turned to the tree, dipping my chin. I planted my palms against the trunk and rocked my ass back. “Take me,” I said again.

His hands curled around my hips, but when I tried to grind against him, his grip tightened to hold me in place.

“Luther,” I snapped. “If you want to help me, then fuck me.” I glared at him over my shoulder. “Use me. And don’t hold anything back.”

Something dark passed over his face. Something that should have terrified me. Instead, I finally felt alive.

He grabbed the end of his belt and yanked it free of his pants with a snap. “Arms behind your back.”

I obeyed, heart thundering in my chest. He held my gaze as he wound

the leather around my wrists.

“Tighter,” I said.

He slid the buckle further.

“Tighter,” I said.

A muscle feathered on his jaw. He jerked hard on the strap, my fingers curling in at the sharp bite of the leather digging into my skin. He secured the buckle closed before I could push him any further.

“If it goes too far, you will tell me, do you understand?” he asked.

I looked away. Too far was exactly what I had in mind.

He gripped a hand around my throat and pulled me back against his chest, rumbling in my ear. “Do you understand?”

“I do,” I said quickly.

He tilted my head upward, caging me in his stare. I wondered what he found there—if he still saw the fierce, strong woman he believed me to be, or if he recognized how pitifully I’d fallen apart.

His fingers loosened on my neck and dropped to unhook the fastenings at the top of my leathers. His hand slid beneath them and over my flushed skin, kneading my breasts.

“More,” I whispered.

He tugged at my nipples, hard enough to arch my back but far softer

than the darkness in me craved.

“Harder,” I begged.

He pinched the peaks between his fingers, a lightning bolt of pain shooting through my chest—that was the light I needed. Not a comforting glow, but violent, crackling destruction.

Another hook unsnapped, and the leather stretched wider, my mark dangerously close to being revealed. Panic rose as I squirmed against his

hold.

He paused. “You want to stop?”

I leaned my chest against the tree and pressed my hips back. “I want to start.”

“Always so impatient,” he murmured. His hands skated down my arms and closed around my bound wrists, using them to pull me against him. His length slid between my thighs, coating himself in my wetness. “This is what

you want?”

I nodded again.

“Tell me, Diem. I want to hear your voice.”

“Yes,” I moaned. “Fuck me, Luther.”

He slammed into me, and pleasure exploded through every nerve. The bond purred as the feeling of my mate inside me filled me with unrivaled bliss. I felt peaceful and safe and verging on happy.

And I fought against it with everything I had.

“Harder,” I insisted again.

His pounding picked up speed, though it only increased the feelings of serenity I was racing to avoid. Over the bond, I could feel Luther’s matching pleasure and the way his ever-present worry for me momentarily began to ebb. In moments like this, it was so easy to empty my head of every haunting thought and rewrite it with only this, only us, only now.

And then my mind flashed back to the Sophosian corpses, and guilt

buried me in a field of their ashes.

“Harder,” I growled.

Luther clamped one hand on my shoulder and wrapped my braid around the other, tugging on both to bring me under his control. I encouraged him with rasping moans, but I still wanted more. I crushed myself against the tree, letting every powerful thrust of his hips grind my face into the trunk,

then writhed until my breasts spilled fully free. The sensitive skin scraped over the coarse bark and turned an angry, irritated red.

I’d never shied from the boundary between pleasure and pain. My body responded in the most carnal of ways to the exhilaration of dancing too close to danger.

This was . . . something else. I wasn’t holding my hand to the flame to see how long I could stand it—I was dousing myself in kerosene and lighting a match.

Luther leaned in to kiss my neck, a tender reminder that there was more than lust at the heart of this, and I turned my face away. As my head dropped forward, his grip on my hair pulled tight. The prickle that coated my scalp did little to sate my malevolent hunger.

He jerked my hips back and bent me forward until he drove deeper and hit that perfect spot. Over the bond, his ecstasy surged, carrying me with it, and I frantically swam the other way. I stabbed my teeth into my lip to drown out the pleasure as heat built low on my spine.

His hips slapped hard against me. “Is this what you want?” he asked, voice gruff with desire.

“Harder,” I said, legs trembling. “Make it rough.” I pressed my face into the bark until my vision spotted. “Make it hurt.”

“You want me to hurt you?”

“Yes. Yes.”

Luther stilled.

“Is that what you want,” he said, his timbre dark and dangerously low, “or are you punishing yourself and using me to do it?”

Shame rolled through me. I felt seen in the worst kind of way. My gaze dropped. My cheeks burned.

Luther slid out of me, and the emptiness he left behind was world-

consuming.

“Diem.”

“Release my hands,” I whispered.

His magic sparked against my skin, and the leather strap split and fell

away.

“Diem,” he said again, more gently.

One arm clutched to my chest to cover my mark as I straightened my clothes, avoiding his eyes. “I think I need to take a walk.”

He tucked himself back into his pants. “I’m coming with you.”

I backed away. “No—I just need a minute to clear my head.” I turned to run, then paused, cringing at what I knew I had to do next. I slowly walked back to Luther and stretched up on my toes for a kiss—soft and loving, nothing like the explosive self-destruction of moments ago—and slid the other hand to his waist.

He set his forehead on mine and pressed a palm low on my back to hold me against him. “Let’s go to my room in the palace. No one will bother us.

We can talk, sleep . . . or fuck, if that’s truly what you need.”

My heart yearned to agree. His bedroom was the place where I’d awoken all those months ago, on the day my life and my heart set down a path from which neither would ever return. Even after all that had changed, I was still walking through the flames, and he was still trying to save me from their burn.

My fingers closed around thrumming metal. “I’m sorry,” I breathed.

Then I turned, and I ran.

To my relief, Luther didn’t try to chase me. The forest wrapped its verdant arms around me, and after a few minutes of running, I was finally alone.

I sank against a tree, wishing I could melt into its bark and become one with the steady land. My soul was tumbling into a destructive spiral I couldn’t seem to stop. I wasn’t just cracking under the pressure, I was letting it grind me into a glittering dust, cup me in its hands, and blow me away.

My emotions sharpened to rage. Why was I punishing myself? I’d been tearing myself apart to save this world. I’d given people more second chances than they deserved, spared every life I could, no matter how rotten.

What had it won me but the world’s condemnation?

If there was one thing the mortals and Descended could agree on, it was the ruthless Queen they wanted me to be. They may have wanted my sword to point in each other’s directions, but they were entirely united on how swiftly, and without mercy, my blade should swing.

The Diem they really wanted was the woman I’d become for one moment in Fortos, when I’d ordered the High General to slit his own throat.

Not because it was the right thing to do, or because I had no other choice, but because I hated him, and he deserved it. Because vengeance felt good.

In that moment, I was my father’s daughter. Not the father who raised me, but the one whose blood ran in my veins. Tonight, I understood him

better than I ever had.

I shoved the Meros compass that I’d stolen from Luther into my pocket and set my hand against the soil. The Forging magic stirred—I could feel Ophiucae’s presence in it, something dark and powerful that didn’t belong.

Spying on him had only ever ended in disaster for me before, but I was nothing if not persistent. I closed my eyes and let the Forging magic carry me over the sea.

He was standing in front of a fire, but it didn’t look like a campfire.

Long, jagged pieces of metal pierced through the flames, and the sounds of shouting and shattering glass could be heard in the distance. On one side of his silhouette, the distinct shape of Sorrow’s Edge hung from his hand.

“Hello, daughter,” he said without turning to face me.

“Where are you?” I demanded.

“Can’t you sense it through the magic? Don’t tell me that’s yet another lesson I need to teach you.”

I looked around. The vision was hazy and ill-defined. A fog of dark shapes wove through scattered bursts of flickering orange-yellow flames.

There were no trees in sight.

Ophiucae began to walk, and I was involuntarily drawn along behind him. The tip of the sword dragged at his side, scraping loudly against the ground—paved ground. Smooth and flat. Not open land, nor anything like the cobblestones of Lumnos or the dusty gravel of the Ring Road. In fact, I’d only seen ground like this once before . . .

“Sophos,” I gasped. Suddenly, the fires around him seemed far more horrific. “You’re destroying the city.”

“I promised the mortals they could, before you got in our way. Seemed only fair to bring them back. It’s very important for a leader to keep their word.”

“But the labs . . . the archives. All that history and knowledge—”

“Does it matter now? There’s no one left to use it.”

“What about the mortals who live there?”

“They were given a chance to join us.”

“And the ones who said no?”

“I left it to Vance to decide their fates.”

My heart crumbled. I’d held on to a scrap of hope that some in the realm had survived, but this was absolute destruction of life and land alike.

I’d had my share of objections to Sophos City, but it had been a beacon of possibility. The mortals and Descended who lived here had done so peacefully, as neighbors and friends. Working together, they had accomplished incredible things. It had been a glimpse of what a better Emarion could be. To see it demolished by the same people I was fighting to save . . .

My soul retreated even further into the cold abyss.

“Quite violent, these mortals. I underestimated them all those years ago.” He swung Sorrow’s Edge upright and set the blade against his shoulder. “A mistake I won’t make again.”

“What are you planning?” I demanded. “Why haven’t you been at any

of the battles?”

He let out a low chuckle. “You’ll see.”

He stopped walking and looked up. The vision grew to reveal a familiar building looming large—the Sophos library where Luther and I spent time alone. Though the building beside it was engulfed in fire, the library had remained miraculously untouched.

“You’re quite fond of this place, are you not?”

I hesitated. If I admitted the truth, he might destroy it to punish me for rising against him. If I lied, he might set it ablaze for my deceit.

“It belongs to the mortals,” I said. “It was taken from them. They deserve to have it back.”

“Are you sure? Before I intervened, these mortals were trying to burn it down.” He let out another dark laugh at my surprised silence. “You know, being a Crown is like being a parent. Sometimes, you must let the little ones make their own mistakes. Much as it hurts you to see, you must give them the chance to learn from consequences. And if you come to realize they still cannot be trusted . . . if you truly care for them, you must save them from themselves.”

My chest burned hot, and the world around us wobbled and blurred. The library faded into muddy shadows as something inside me pulled taut.

“Your mate is looking for you.” He turned back to the library. “I think I might stay in my brother’s realm for a while. Perhaps read a few books.” He ran a finger along the heartstone embedded in Sorrow’s Edge. “There is so much to learn.”

He strode toward the library doors, but when I tried to follow, a tether reeled me back—and back, and back, and back—as my consciousness

dragged back toward my body. Distantly, I heard someone call my name.

“See you soon, Daughter of the Forgotten.”

Something seized me by the arm, and Ophiucae vanished. The flames of Sophos smoldered back into the leafy, wooded moonlight of Lumnos.

“Diem?” a voice called out.

One hand flew to my chest, where my mating mark felt like it had been set on fire. “Luther?” I murmured groggily.

“Diem!” the voice said, louder.

My mind cleared, and I jerked upright. Someone was crouched at my side, holding a knife—and they definitely weren’t Luther.

I lifted a hand to cast a shield, but my magic reserves were as dry as the Ignios deserts. On instinct, I reached for my sword, though my scabbard was still empty.

“Diem,” the woman said again. She followed my stare to her knife, and she blanched and hid it behind her back. “I mean, um—Your Majesty. Are you alright?”

I awkwardly scooted away. I recognized her as one of Enness and Runa’s group, a Faunos Descended I’d freed from prison. She’d always kept to herself, never joining in festivities or training. She never joined any of the battles, either. I wondered—a little too late—why she’d come to Lumnos at all.

“I was on my way to the stream to bathe,” she said.

“In the dead of night?” I asked skeptically.

Her eyes dropped low. “I don’t like bathing during the day. Sometimes the guards get too close so they can watch.”

My suspicion was obliterated by a scowl. I would have to tell Alixe to find the offending guards and threaten to pluck their eyes out with a dirty branch.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, climbing to my feet. “Thank you for checking on me.”

I felt the Meros compass click and whirr against my leg. I’d used the kiss to distract Luther so I could steal it, hoping to keep him from chasing me down. From the panicked fury simmering over the bond, he must have just realized what I’d done.

“You have a mate,” the woman said, her eyes growing wide.

“What? No, I—” I followed her stare to the glowing mating mark left on display by my half-unfastened leathers.

Fuck.

I clamped a hand on top of it. “Please don’t tell anyone you saw this.

I’m not mated—I’m a stranded mate.”

She looked horrified and, oddly, a little relieved. “How terrible. I’m so sorry.”

My jaw tightened at the reminder that what I so deeply valued was seen as an awful burden to everyone else. “I should get back,” I said, a little curtly. “Enjoy your bath.”

She moved to stop me. “Actually, there’s something I was hoping you might help me with.”

I glanced toward camp. Now that I knew where Ophiucae was, we needed to gather soldiers, arrange ships, warn everyone in Meros . . . gods, it might already be too late to save them.

I tried to edge around her. “I’m sorry, I really must go.”

“My niece is missing,” she blurted out.

I stopped.

“After I was arrested for helping the mortals, my brother was driven out of Faunos,” she went on. “I spent sixty-five years in that prison, and he died in the Umbros attack two days before you freed us.” She laughed—a choked, heartbroken sound. “If I’d been a little earlier, I would have seen him one last time and met his mate . . . but then I probably would have died with them, too.”

I took her hand. “I’m sorry. The gods can be so cruel.”

“I found a survivor in Umbros who knew him. She told me his little girl was one of the children they took. He named her Kéani—after me.” Her amber eyes gleamed with brimming tears. “He never forgot me.”

I squeezed her hand and held it to my chest. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to bring Kéani home.”

“I asked Blessed Father Faunos to give me a chance to save her. When Enness asked me to come here, I thought it was an answer to my prayers. I was sure that if anyone could find her, it was you.”

A heavy pit lodged in my chest. I’d been stretched so thin between so many other problems, I’d done nothing to find the missing children.

Her hand pulled from mine and fidgeted at her waist. “I sent letters by hawk to every realm. I used my magic to make the hawks keep looking until they found her. I wasn’t sure where she was or what she looked like, or even if she was still alive, but I had to try.”

A twig snapped behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, eyes narrowing on the wooded shadows.

“This morning, I finally got a response.”

I looked back to the woman. “Your niece wrote to you? Did she tell you where the children are?”

She swallowed. “The letter wasn’t from my niece.”

Her fingers twitched. Grass rustled by my feet, and something sharp pinched my calf. I looked down to see a green-scaled snake with reddish rings and a black diamond on its head, its long fangs embedded in my flesh.

I yanked it from my leg and hurled it into the brush, but another snake slithered from the grass and launched for my ankle.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman whispered.

A snake dropped from the tree above and landed on my shoulders, sinking its fangs into my neck. I gasped at the scorching heat of its venom entering my blood. Within seconds, my eyelids felt impossible to lift. I reached into my pocket and closed a hand around the compass.

Then my body hit the soil, and everything went dark.

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