Page 6 of The Incendiary

His words nearly had me spinning on my heel and back into the torrential rain.

Shera’s face rubbed against my hip. I brushed my hand over her damp head.

“Sit.”

She obeyed. She was wild, but my magic connected us, and she seemed to listen to every word from my mouth.

“How long has it been here?” I sighed at the small piece of paper.

“Since you left for your run,” Damond answered.

I looked at the note and gritted my teeth as I read:

Smyth lied to you.

The words were written in an elegant script that seemed appropriate for an ancient sorcerer.

This was the twelfth time in recent weeks that my uncle Simeon had used his magic to materialize a note in our small cabin. Making things appear and disappear out of thin air was apparently one of his many talents.

Both Simeon and Molochai wanted to control my powers in their own ways. Molochai wanted my magic so that he could become wholly unstoppable and seize the entire continent. Simeon wanted to use me as a weapon to destroy Molochai for good.

My uncle didn’t like things that were natural or wild. He liked control. Over four hundred years ago, he’d wiped my mind clean and put me in a four-centuries-long sleep to make me and my power easier to manipulate. It didn’t work, thanks to Gavin Smyth.

When I thought of Simeon and all he’d taken from both of us, I understood why Gavin had always been so angry all the time.

We’d barely been married when Simeon took me from him. In his determination to find me, Gavin had made a blood oath with Molochai, his father, in exchange for immortality, and unwittingly became the Butcher of Nyrida, compelled to slaughter thousands of innocents over centuries, including Phillip and Oliver Gold.

When Simeon woke me up in the present, Gavin threatened Simeon to ensure he would be the one to find me, train me, and nourish me back to life. He had been trying to buy me time before going to my people and Elias. He’d been intending to protect me from Simeon and help me remember what we once were. Get me strong enough to fight for myself. But his fear had kept him from revealing what we were to each other, and his omissions, along with my impulsive inclination to save his wife—who I now knew was me—had cost me my life.

I snatched a pen off the table and angrily scribbled on the back of the note.

He lied to me to protect me from you.

The paper was gone the moment I finished writing. My eyes opened wide when, seconds later, the note reappeared.

Are you in love with him?

My pulse stuttered. Damond crossed his arms with a sigh.

I wasn’t sure of the answer, but my uncle didn’t need to know that.

What does it matter to you? I wrote back.

Jaw clenched, I tapped my foot on the floor. Each passing second tested my limited patience.

The note reappeared with a brief, warm gust of wind.

It was never my intention to hurt you. Come to the Winterton Caves. I‘ll meet you there. I’ll help you, Aryella.

“Bullshit,” I muttered, glancing at Damond, who was always careful with his reactions. After learning how thoroughly I’d been manipulated, I wanted to make my own choices, and Damond respected that.

I’m doing this my way, I wrote back. Let my uncle wonder about the full extent of my anger. Though, I almost added fuck off for good measure.

Damond and I were hiding from Molochai just outside a small village in Avendrel called Varamuth, a few days north of the Winterton Caves. Molochai must have figured out I survived his attempt to kill me when my power didn’t transfer to him, so he would be looking for me. And Gavin was still bound by a blood oath to kill for Molochai on command. Until the oath was broken, we were hiding from Gavin, too.

Simeon’s magic was more refined and controlled than anything I knew—and I knew if he truly wanted to find me I wouldn’t be able to escape. I couldn’t decide whether to feel solace or fear that he was allowing me to remain free.

Maybe he did feel some guilt for the choices he took from me.