Page 21 of And So The Storm Screams

Roots tangled around me, hiding me in their shadows. I let them, because I wasn’t quite ready to reveal myself to Althirion and Nymirae as I watched over Sylaira. Because her fucking mate had his head too far up his ass to see that he needed to grovel at her feet to fix what he had broken.

Maelsar approached, his footsteps wraith-silent. I only sensed him because my body was a traitor where he was concerned. My knees cracked as I rose, meeting him out of earshot of the three. Sylaira was deep in her focus, and I didn’t want to break her concentration. Especially now that she wanted to See.

“Did you know?” I accused him, jabbing a finger into his broad chest. We hadn’t spoken alone since Sylaira emerged from Vaeron’s tent two evenings prior, almost as pale as the day Heraphia had died.

“Know what?” he said, running a hand through his tousled hair.

“That Vaeron had swapped out the virelthorn,” I hissed, crossing my arms, one hip cocked like a challenge.

He went utterly still. “I was just as shocked as everyone when she collapsed mid-vision after the trial.”

A scoff slipped out of me. “I may be a commoner, but I am not stupid, Maelsar. Your carefully chosen words will not appease me.”

He shifted his weight, looking at the canopy overhead. “Yes, I knew.”

“You bastard.” My nails bit into my skin. “You lied to me too. Both of you!”

“Lyr–”

“Don’t you ‘Lyr’ me.” I spun, stomping back to my hidden observation position.

But Maelsar caught me mid-stride and twisted me back to him. “He made me promise not to tell you.”

“Well, I guess it was always obvious where your loyalties lie,” I snapped. But hypocrisy was bitter on my tongue. I was keeping Sylaira’s secret the same way he kept Vaeron’s.

“Do you know why he did it?” Maelsar’s aquamarine irises searched mine.

“Of course not. He hasn’t spoken, not even to defend himself or his actions. And here I thought both of you trusted me.”

Maelsar sighed, his grip on my shoulders loosening. But he didn’t release me. “I trust you. And so does he. He wouldn’t let you shadow Sylaira if he didn’t think you’d bleed for her. If you didn’t want what was best for her.”

“Like he can claim he does,” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“That is what he thought he was doing,” Maelsar murmured. “Iaoth knew she wasn’t Seeing. As much as we hate her, she was right about one thing.”

“And, pray tell, what could that possibly be?”

“Sylaira’s visions could end this war. Vaeron’s duty is ingrained in him in a way that surpasses all else. I’ve long since given up trying to understand it.” Maelsar blew out a long breath. “To him, keeping his mate safe is his scripture. By any means necessary.”

“Including replacing her virelthorn so that she is forced to See,” I finished for him.

“Exactly.”

“And you helped him do that.”

“I did.”

I ran my tongue along my teeth. “And do you feel any remorse for any of it?”

He released me. Stepped back. Flicked his attention to the rustling leaves overhead.

“That’s what I thought,” I muttered, already whirling again.

But his hand closed around my wrist and hauled me back. I stumbled into him, pinned against his chest. “I am sorry that I lied to you about it. That doesn’t mean I trust you any less. Doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

My eyelids dipped closed, lashes brushing against my cheekbones. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he swore, his hot breath ghosting across my ear. “I think I knew from the moment you raked your claws across my neck during your capture. Commoner or not, I plan on marrying you once this war is over.”