Page 110 of Sunsplitter

“Is that why Avroz sent you away?” She pushed another step.

His tail lashed, low to the ground. Every breath was too tight in his chest.

“Antal,say something.”

“What do you want me to say?” he snapped.

“What happened? You vanished. You changed so much.”

They all kept saying that. As if this was such a mystery. As if his splintered heart was an impossible puzzle, rent by the fissures they’d put there.

“What am I supposed to tell you, Ixli?” Antal stood. Each breath felt too tight. “It’s not enough to say I’m sorry I hurt you?” An ache in his ribs. “How am I supposed to explain to you that I fell in love with ahuman?” His claws flexed, digging into his palms. “That I was afraid to tell you, in case I hurt you more?” A rise in his voice. “That I wasafraidof what you might do to him if you knew?”

Antal’s teeth clamped to aching. There was something in his chest, clawing and spitting, fighting its way out. Here was Ixli, this daeyari who used to know every piece of him, who’d left him on his own when everything had crumbled.

“And how do I possibly make you understand that none of it even mattered?” he snarled. “Because Avroz slit his throat in front of me.”

Ixli fell so Void-damned still. Antal could have used her antlers as a coat rack.

“He… what?” she breathed.

“I fell in love with a human, Ixli.” Antal pressed a hand to his chest, this worthless cage where his shredded heart lived. “Avroz didn’t like that, so he killed him. This made me unspeakably sad. Avroz didn’t like that either, so he banished me to the Winter Plane. There, you’re caught up. Is that a satisfactory summary ofwhat happened?”

“But… you never…” Her tail snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

There it was. That parrying snarl, that warrior’s strike.

“And risk you running to Avroz again?” Antal said.

Ixli’s claws flexed. Antal was vaguely aware of Fionamarastanding, quietly refastening her silviamesh. He could feel her glare.

Everyone. Alwaysangryat him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ixli repeated quieter. Fiercer.

“Ixli, I can’t do this with you right now—”

“I could have been there for you, Antal. I could have helped. Syvr and me both!”

He blinked. “What—”

Ixli lunged for him.

Not with fangs. Not with claws. Her knuckles landed soft against his chest, forehead bowed to his shoulder. Her tail found his, the softest twine at the tips.

Antal went rigid. A shudder through every vertebra.

“You could have told us,” Ixli whispered into his shirt. “Not everyone is like your father, Antal.Wearen’t like your father. Syvr and I care about you, but…” A pause. A crack. “But you pushed us away.”

Softness crushed Antal worse than spite, Ixli’s plea slicing deeper than claws. He cast around him, seeking rescue. Fionamara only offered two raised brows.

“She’s right, you know,” came a voice from above.

Three heads snapped up in unison.

To see Syvr lounging on a tree branch, tail swaying with stunning nonchalance, for someone eavesdropping on a conversation. They’d positioned their seafoam scent downwind. Didn’t teleport close enough to detect the static. Cunning daeyari.

They dropped to the ground, greeted by a swat and a snarl from Ixli, another guarded look from Antal. Syvr wasn’t a fighter, but with two daeyari closing in, he backed between them and Fionamara. If both kezri were here…