Page 23 of Winds of Ruin
She sat up straighter. “I would never have. You arefartoo pretty to kill.”
Again, with the distractions. “We’re having a serious conversation now, Else.”
She took a deep breath. “Fine. I understand you. It should have beenmewho died in the amphitheater that day. I’ve tried to find my way back to myself ever since, but it’s been an uphill battle.”
“You need to stop blaming yourself. I see what you’re doing.”
She shrugged. “If I hadn’t climbed up the arena wall, if I hadn’t distracted Ryn, then I may still have my Source Match. I have no one else to blame.”
I shook my head and reached out toward the barrier between us. “That isn’t true.”
“Isn’t it?” she snapped back, and my heart sank as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
“Elsedora…” How could I make her see that she didn’t need to hide from me?
“I’m fine, puppy. It is always a hard week. I can’t sit here and complain to you about the things I’ve lost.”
“I enjoy hearing you, though,” I said. “I’ve never asked you… how did you know you’d found your Source Match in Ryn?”
When Firose’s magic had first called to mine, I’d justknown.Walking from the wreckage of the amphitheater without her had broken something fundamental within me, even if it hadn’t been love—it had been too new for that.
“I didn’t know I possessed Source magic, so I thought it was impossible. But when he crumbled, a part of me did too—the magic within me writhed,” she admitted. “I didn’t know until I lost him.”
Tears welled, clouding her bewitching hazel irises. I’d wanted her to open up, to talk to me, but now I wished only to hold her—the one thing I couldn’t do.
“I wish I could embrace you,” I said. “And if I ever get out of here, I promise you will never have a moment of peace during this week every year.”
And every other week.
So much for not blushing again—but I refused to let her go on thinking she was unworthy of care.
Losing her parents, her Source Match, her sense of self… she shouldn’t bear it all alone. I’d wear her pain for her if I could.
A weak smile spread across her beautiful face as she said, “I will hold you to that someday.”
“Ah… the redhead. Still mourning her lover?” The Death Origin’s hiss grated on me.
Pulled back to the depths of his torture, I growled. If he touched a hair on her head, he’d pay. He had taken enough from her.
Caym crept out of the cave’s shadows. The viscous molten red veins in the black rock glowed brighter, burning hotter. We always ended up here—in this lair of his mind’s making.
He appeared less and less human with each passing year. His skin had paled, his blonde hair had grayed, and his sharp crooked nose had caved in, exposing the bone beneath tattered flesh. Long claws grew from his fingertips.
The unnerving predatory glint in Death’s murky green stare had stayed intact.
More monster than man, he meant to intimidate.
“Have I hit a nerve,puppy?” The way Caym used El’s nickname caused my back to stiffen. My fists clenched, ready to strike.
“Don’t speak of her!” I barked. Of all the horrid things he’d shown me, imagining her at his mercy scared me the most.
“I’ll do more than speak of her…” His tone made bile rise in my throat. “I’ll snuff the life right out of her.”
When he closed his clawed fist, my boots scraped against the rough rock as I launched forward. Before I could reach him, I fell through dark amber smoke.
That fucking coward never let me get in a single hit.
Chapter 9
