Page 92 of Ruin of Revenants

“A phoenix,” I replied. “If you can say the word without shuddering.” I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see the terror or disgust dance across his face.

There was a long pause. “Did you know? Or did she trick you?”

My smile was pained as I forced my eyes back open, staring at the puzzled guard. Faithful Grey, wrestling with what he thought he knew about me and what he’d just learned. “I knew.”

For a long time, he was quiet. He shoved my tray of food through the slot in my door and stepped back.

And then I found the note peeking out from beneath the bowl of slop on my tray. We’re with you.

My heart slammed against my rib cage, full of wild hope. We. Did he mean himself and more of the guards? Owen and Lily? And he’d delivered this before he’d had his answer from me.

Tears stung my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them fall. He’d believed in me—they all had—even when I’d given them every reason to doubt my dedication to them. I glanced up, but Grey was already gone, likely not wanting to linger and risk being overheard or caught. Maybe the other posted guards weren’t ones he trusted.

I sat there for a long time, letting myself process this information, this shred of hope. I forced myself to eat the note with the rest of the barely-edible food I’d been given, knowing I needed to keep up my strength.

Isa?

No answer. All I could hope was that she was still resting. I could only imagine the amount of strength and energy that had been sapped from her body in resurrecting us both.

A short while and many more frenzied thoughts later, I heard new footsteps approaching my cell. I leaned back against the wall, staring at the sliver of the outside world the barred window in my door afforded me. The pair of guards who paused outside were not males I was familiar with, and my stomach sank.

“Father rethink his plans?” I asked cheekily as one unlocked the cell door, cringing as he stepped into the space infused with so many forget-me-nots they made the very atmosphere oppressive and painful. “Realize he can’t manage without my charming presence?”

“Up, Your Highness,” the first male said gruffly. The other lifted a pair of shackles, making me bite my own tongue with dread.

But I didn’t try to resist as they settled them around my wrists and led me into the dungeon passageway. I caught a glimpse of Isoria through her window. Curled up on her side on her cot, her chest rose and fell peacefully. It was my only comfort as the guards shoved me along, leading me out into the castle halls and past servants who studied me with lowered gazes, pity marring their expressions.

The guards took me to a private study, not in Father’s quarters but one reserved for clandestine meetings that perhaps he didn’t want his advisors or staff privy to.

When the door opened soundlessly, they released me, letting me walk in of my own accord before shutting the door again behind me.

Candles burned low and Father reclined in a chair alone, staring out the high window at the sliver of starlight it highlighted outside. Palm fronds waved in a gentle night breeze. How many days had passed since Isoria and I had been imprisoned? Was this our second night? Third? The dungeons, with their perpetual dark and the pain of the forget-me-nots, felt timeless, leaving us suspended in endless misery.

“Tell me she seduced you,” Father said without looking at me, without moving. His hands rested on his chin, his gaze stony. “Tell me she deceived you and I’ll understand the sudden engagement announcement, your shifty ways of late, the disappearing death-lovers.”

My throat clogged with sudden emotion. There was an air of desperation about him, as if, maybe, Father wanted an excuse to spare me. But there was no use in lying. “We’re blood-bonded. When I encountered her, I tried to capture her, and that’s when we discovered the tether linking us, one forged by the gods themselves. If she dies, I die. If we do not stay in close proximity to one another, we die. So I came up with the idea of her being my betrothed, because it was the only way to keep us both alive. But along the way, I’ve realized they aren’t the monsters we think they are. She’s kind and brave and loyal. I’ve watched her toil over our people. She’s sweat and bled to try to heal and save them, not destroy them.”

“Have you considered that she is the answer to Maris’ prophecy? The one to ruin us?”

My smile was mirthless. “She already has.”

The king turned toward me finally, his gaze dark. “No, son. Have you ever stopped to consider she was manipulating you, using you until you trusted her, cared for her, and would risk anything for her? All so she could fulfill her end of the prophecy and murder you?”

“If she kills me, she kills herself because of the bond.” An outright lie, but if I hadn’t realized that in my studies, then I had to hope Father hadn’t in whatever research he’d conducted while I’d been holed up in the dungeons. If he had any suspicion that Isoria’s death wouldn’t kill me too, then her life was forfeit. Although if I was completely honest with myself, I knew that Father might sacrifice me anyway to be rid of her.

“They manipulate life and death, Archer,” he snapped. “She can afford to die to kill you. She can come back, but you cannot.”

I shook my head. “I’ve studied phoenixes. They can only resurrect once, and at the sacrifice of another. She already died at Dell’s hand, and she brought us both back to life. She’s out of second chances. If she dies, she’ll…” My voice cracked. “She’ll be gone forever. And I’ll die with her.”

“No.” Father shook his head, tone full of conviction.

That’s when the shadows at the corner of the room shifted. We weren’t alone after all. A figure stepped forward, the female almost too unnaturally beautiful to look at. When the light hit her face, it shone as if a fire burned within her, and her eyes were full of infinite wisdom, like she’d seen ages upon ages of lifetimes. Immediately, my skin prickled in her presence, sensing her power.

A deity.

“The guards told me about the blood bond you claimed to have with Isoria, so I did some research of my own,” Father went on. “Vithenna, Goddess of Life, has answered our pleas and is here to free you of that death whore at last.”

My stomach plummeted. Surely Vithenna would expose my lie about the bond to Father and Isoria would be doomed.