Page 46 of Ruin of Revenants

The ones who’d not been able to keep the thought quiet in their heads had already vanished.

“You’re likely right, but from everything I read, they weren’t exactly cozy with the true Emberglade family either. They don’t care what happens to us; they probably bonded us out of spite, to watch us drive one another mad until we ask them for death.”

“If they just wanted us dead, there are faster ways,” she bit out. “And if they don’t care at all, they wouldn’t bless us with magic or prophecies or anything.”

I smirked indolently, hoping the expression annoyed her. “I think they savor our suffering.”

Isoria huffed. “Your emotions are so strong they’re clouding any possibility of reason.” She pushed away from the counter, stalking toward me.

For the first time in my life, I had the urge to retreat from a phoenix shifter.

But Isoria paused a mere arm’s length away from me. “That hollowness inside you…there’s an echo of grief to it,” she whispered.

I blinked, averting my gaze. Why I answered her, I wasn’t sure. Maybe I thought saying the words would unburden some of the weight on my chest. Who knew emptiness could have weight? “My mother. Some events reminded me of her…I lost her when I was a boy.”

When I dared to lift my eyes, Isoria swallowed. Her golden eyes shone with unshed tears, and as her own feelings swelled, I managed to feel them through our bond, consuming my own numbness. Worry. Sorrow. Homesickness. “Then don’t you understand why I can’t give up?” she asked, voice quavering. “You know what it is to lose a parent. Well, I might lose mine if I can’t find a way back home. If I can’t regain my freedom.”

She released a shuddering breath. I gaped at her, not knowing what to think. I hated the grief flooding me, her emotion reminding me of mine until I couldn’t tell where hers ended and mine began. I wanted to retreat to my own numbness, to relish it as I never had before rather than drown again in this old, familiar ache.

“Now let me heal you so we don’t have to keep feeling this—”

I stepped back. “No,” I said firmly. “I don’t want you using your magic on me.”

Her eyes flashed with annoyance. There was the inner fire I’d been searching for, my reminder that she couldn’t be trusted.

“You want to continue to suffer?” She laughed, but there wasn’t humor to it. “Or you want me to continue to suffer with you.”

“I don’t want you influencing me with your dark magic,” I ground out, shoving off the doorway.

I pressed back to my bedroom, shutting myself into the illusion of safety with my own, newly familiar misery. With a numbness that was my own and didn’t remind me of Isoria’s grief, which, thankfully, I couldn’t sense from this distance. That didn’t force me to recognize that we shared something in common, or remind me that I’d sent a mother to the dungeons tonight.

Maybe that made me a coward.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Isoria

“You don’t look much better than a revenant,” Lily teased from across the breakfast room, clearly trying to make light of Archer’s disheveled appearance.

“Thank you, that’s what I love to hear all ladies tell me,” Archer murmured. His smirk lacked its usual forceful charm, a clear indication he was comfortable among his friends and willing to let down his mask a little. He sat slumped at the head of the breakfast table, forcing down bites of egg and fried meats that a couple of servants had wheeled in from his personal kitchen.

I’d been woken by the sounds of them stirring in the kitchen, turning to find that the light creeping through my bedroom curtains revealed it was around noon.

Though exhausted from the little sleep I’d had, I was eager to be awake during the daylight, to finally soak in the sunshine instead of skulking about like some nocturnal creature. When Orchid knocked, I was already at the vanity, brushing out my hair.

“Lily and Owen requested to join you and Archer for a late breakfast this afternoon, so the prince called me to help you prepare,” she’d explained. “He said you three will be training together afterward. I have a practical outfit, but it’s still lovely.” She offered me a timid smile, one I’d happily returned.

My hair plaited in a crown, I was clothed in a gold tunic fitted with a leather bodice and leggings as soft as clouds. Orchid’s efforts made me feel royal while also making me prepared for whatever training I was to endure today. The pastries I’d made the night before had been placed on the table with everything else the servants had prepared, so I relished the fruit of my labor last night, enjoying the way the sweetness and tartness of the berries contrasted as they exploded across my tongue. The dusting of sugar I’d added to each gave a pleasant crunch and countered some of the sourness.

Mama would have loved them. Bren would have tried to steal extra. The stab of grief made the food stick in my throat, and I had to gulp down some water to help.

Archer cast me a sidelong glance, his own piercing gaze shadowed by dark circles. He looked hungover and exhausted, and every emotion emanating from him was full of misery, guilt, and distrust. I was half-surprised he could sense my own homesickness at all.

“What do we need to practice today?” Owen asked, cutting off the small talk to jump into business.

“Everything,” Archer said drolly. “Isoria is abominable at her stance, her footwork, the way she wields a blade. Anyone within a mile radius can tell exactly what her next move will be.”

I bristled. “I’m a healer; that’s my primary focus—”