Heat of the Everflame (The Kindred’s Curse Saga #3)

Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

I made it to Luther just in time for the second explosion.

The Guardians dropped him and dove for cover, while Luther threw himself on top of me to shield my body from the blast. Streams of fiery wood rained down on a field of flaming debris.

I wriggled out from beneath his weight, then pulled the dagger Taran had given me and slashed through the ropes binding Luther’s wrists. He growled as his hands fell free, a vicious predator uncaged at last.

My breath caught as he pulled me into his arms. Our lips came together like a surging wave on a rocky break, two unstoppable forces undeterred by the violence closing in on all sides.

It was a reckless kiss, a dangerous kiss—and I never wanted it to end.

He tasted of the spice of his fury and the sweetness of his relief. His urgent grip slid to the back of my neck, the burn of his skin against mine searing straight to my core.

“My Queen,” he murmured, the words rumbling against my lips.

“Hello, Prince,” I gasped. “I missed you, too.”

An arrow whizzed past our heads, freezing us both in place.

“Respectfully, Your Majesty,” Alixe shouted from nearby, “perhaps the reunion can wait?”

At her feet, a mortal lay dead with a throwing dagger lodged in his neck. She had stolen his bow and quiver and was firing off arrows at the other archers in the surrounding trees to give us cover.

My gut clenched at the man’s lifeless face. More blood on my hands. More corpses at my feet.

“Are you hurt?” Luther asked, pulling me to my feet.

I swallowed and forced myself to rip my eyes from the dead mortal. I shook my head. “We need to get to the horses.”

He nodded. “Your magic...?”

“Gone. They forced me to take flameroot.”

He glowered and ran for the Sword of Corbois while I sheathed my dagger, pulling the broadsword from its scabbard. Around us, Guardians staggered through the smoke, shouting warnings both at us and about us.

“Alixe,” I yelled. “This way!”

As the evening breeze cleared the haze from the air, the clang of clashing metal took its place. We moved as a trio through the melee, a three-backed beast fighting a burgeoning mob with hate smoldering in every brown eye.

Luther tried to push me between him and Alixe, but I shoved him off. I pounced forward to smash the flat side of my blade against a Guardian’s arm before it could ram a spear through Alixe’s side.

“Don’t kill them,” I begged. “They’re mortals. They’re just angry, they don’t realize—”

“It’s them or us, Your Majesty,” Alixe gritted out. She had a shortsword in each hand that swung in elegant, precise strokes, almost artistic in their refinement. She was the deadliest kind of dancer, each movement choreographed to leave her audience in ribbons.

What Alixe displayed in grace, Luther matched in savagery. His blows were thunderous, shattering bone with every swing. I’d known Luther’s strength went far beyond his magic, but even without the sparks and shadows at his command, he was a fearsome thing to behold.

“We can’t save them all,” he warned. His voice was as gentle as his rage would allow, sensitive to how deeply he knew this mattered to me. “Not if we plan to get out alive.”

“I know, but—”

I yelped and ducked below the swing of a wooden club, then shoved my boot into its wielder’s chest.

“We are not enemies,” I shouted, unsure which of them I was really telling.

Amid a flurry of swings and jabs, Cordellia strode toward us, sword in hand.

“Call them off, Dell,” I warned. “Let us leave here. No one else needs to get hurt.”

“You know I can’t do that,” she yelled back, unspoken words riding her tone .

I knew she was right. Even if she wanted to help me—and the glare on her face left that very much in question—her people would mutiny before they let us walk away. We were too outnumbered, too penned in. They had the upper hand, and Cordellia could not cede it now.

“Give yourselves up,” she warned, “before one of us is forced to do something we’ll regret.”

But that, I could not do. I was willing to put my own life in her care and risk the wrath of her people, but I would not ask the same of my Descended friends—my family .

A club connected with Luther’s hip, knocking him down to a knee. The mortals had correctly pegged him as their biggest threat, and three of them were raining down blows in quick succession, giving him little time to defend and no time to recover.

A fourth man came tearing through the crowd with a long, glittering black blade raised above his head. His scowl fixed on Luther as he brought the sword plummeting down.

Without thinking, I lunged.

I hurled my body into the attacking Guardian. With a violent collision, we tumbled across the soil, Luther and Alixe shouting my name, until the mortal collapsed on top of me.

I froze stone-still, waiting to feel the consequences of his godstone blade. There was no pain, only the slowly growing warmth of hot liquid oozing across my belly.

The man and I gaped at each other. Our expressions were a mirror image of shock—and regret.

I didn’t understand at first. Then he coughed, and a trickle of red leaked from the corner of his lips.

Luther roared and grabbed the man by his back. As his body lifted away, my broadsword slid from his gut with a sickening slurp. His blade fell from his limp hand, its edge bloodless and pristine.

“Are you wounded?” Luther barked.

I couldn’t answer.

Luther and Alixe shifted to fight off the encroaching mob while I lay paralyzed by my horror.

I had killed a mortal—to save a Descended.

It didn’t matter that the mortal was a stranger who wanted us dead, or that the Descended was becoming so dear to me, a blade through his heart would have cut as deeply as a blade through my own.

I had spilled the blood of my people.

For them .

“Diem, are you hurt? ” Luther demanded again, his voice strained. The terror in it pulled me back to my senses.

“No,” I croaked, blinking rapidly. “I... I’m...”

“Hey mortals!” a booming voice cried out over the cacophony. “ Incoming! ”

Three large vessels sailed overhead, instantly recognizable by the unlit fuses trailing behind them.

Clever Taran , I thought briefly. A ruse to help us get away.

And then my eyes moved to the end of their trajectory—straight into the blazing campfire.

A chorus of screams erupted. Luther grabbed Alixe and shoved her to the ground at my side, then fell on top of us just as the campsite exploded into a ball of flame.

Chunks of firewood became burning arrows that sliced through the air, piercing through bodies and tents and foliage as a rainstorm of embers fluttered and swirled. The patter of falling debris mixed with the moans of the injured, the whinnies of startled horses, and the cries of frightened children.

My heart crumbled. This wasn’t what I wanted. All this violence and destruction was because of me, to save me.

Luther’s eyes connected with mine, and I knew he saw me breaking. His hand brushed against my arm and lingered, a simple gesture that offered so much.

He wrapped an arm around Alixe’s waist and another on mine, dragging us to our feet at his side, and together, we ran for the edge of camp.

Taran waved us over, barely visible through the smoky fog. He had the reins of one horse in his hand, the others nowhere to be found.

“The explosion spooked the rest away,” he grumbled. “One of you can take Diem, I’ll follow with the other on foot.”

“You take her,” Luther ordered. “Stay near the coast. Alixe and I will find you at dawn.”

“We’re not splitting up,” I protested, my voice still hoarse from the shock of my kill.

Luther gave me a hard look. “This is the best way to keep you safe. If they catch you—”

“They won’t kill me. I can’t say the same for the three of you, and I will not spend another night wondering if the people I care about are dead.” I steadied myself and raised my chin. “We stay together.”

“Perhaps she’s right,” Alixe said hesitantly. “Without our magic, we may fare better if we keep our numbers strong.”

I gave a sharp nod and set off for the woods. “Good. It’s decided.”

“Diem,” Luther growled, reaching for my arm.

“That’s a command from your Queen,” I snapped.

He worked his jaw, his grip tightening around me. Obedience to the Crown—to me —ran as deeply in his blood as Sorae’s, but unlike my gryvern, Luther could defy me. He just hadn’t done it yet.

“Um, cousins?” Taran started, frowning over my shoulder. “Maybe we should—”

“I found them!” a voice shouted. “Over here!”

A line of dark figures emerged from the firelit haze, silhouetted swords and crossbows dangling from their hands. I knew without looking that Luther was about to toss me over the saddle and send the horse galloping into the woods, so I moved before he got the chance.

I ripped my arm from his grasp and bolted into the forest, away from the campsite, sheathing my broadsword as I wove my way through the trees. I didn’t dare glance back, trusting in the others to follow me, but the thunder of too many footsteps warned me we weren’t alone.

The forest canopy blotted out the moon, making it nearly impossible to avoid anything more than the largest of trees. Low branches and hanging vines smacked across my face while my feet stumbled over tangled roots and fallen logs. Too frequently I found myself tripping and sprawling onto the ground, but each time, a firm hand grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back up.

Every now and then an arrow would whistle through the air, and my heart would hold its breath. At each crack of an arrowhead splitting through wood, my tension eased, but every so often I heard a softer sound—a wet thunk that I could not distinguish as soil or flesh—and my soul would scream with fear at what price might be paid before this night ended.

We ran without ceasing, pushing our bodies to our limits. We ran so long that I lost any sense of time or location, ran so hard that my aching limbs turned from throbbing to numb.

We were outnumbered and outmatched. The Guardians lived among these trees, they knew them like old friends. There was no telling what secrets the forest held that might spell our doom. Any minute, we might run directly into a new rebel camp, tumble into an unexpected ravine, or find ourselves trapped by an uncrossable river.

Only one factor weighed in our favor: they were mortal, and we were Descended. And not just any Descended— warrior Descended.

Well... three warriors, at least, and whatever strange mortal-raised, Crown-wearing, grey-eyed thing I could claim to be.

After what felt like a lifetime, the footsteps behind us thinned out, then fell distant, then turned to silence. We kept going nevertheless, continuing on for what might have been minutes or hours, until our pace slowed and it was no longer roots or rocks but our own fatigue causing us to stumble.

“Cousins— here ,” Alixe’s voice hissed nearby.

A hand reached out of the darkness and slid into mine, jerking me toward a massive tree whose ropelike roots stretched ten feet in all directions. A wide crack in its side gave way to a hollow center large enough for the four of us to slip inside.

Luther pulled me to one side of the opening. He pressed his body against mine, crushing me into the rough wall, then gestured for Taran and Alixe to take the opposite side. Uncomfortable as it was, it concealed us well within the trunk’s inner shadows and out of sight from any passing Guardians that might glance inside.

“We’ll wait here to see if they catch up,” Luther whispered. Taran and Alixe murmured in agreement.

I set my head against his shoulder as we both fought to catch our breath. Our chests heaved in rapid rhythm until they fell in sync, rising and falling together as adrenaline gave way to tentative relief. His hands flattened against the bark on either side of me, a cage of the most exhilarating creation.

There was barely any light in the forest and none at all within the hollow of the tree. Blanketed in darkness, my palms glided over his arms, his chest, his shoulders, blindly searching for any sign of a wound.

“Were you hurt?” I asked. “The godstone—did any of it...?” I couldn’t bear to finish.

He hesitated. Every second he didn’t answer was an endless, torturous nightmare.

“I took a few cuts,” he said finally, my heart stilling in my chest, “but none from godstone.”

Had he not been pinning me upright with the force of his body, I might have collapsed. I threw my arms around his waist, clawing my fingers into his back and wishing I could somehow pull him even closer still.

His hands pressed to my face, gently tilting it up. I felt the press of his forehead and the brush of his nose. His hot breath rolled in like a summer storm across my skin.

“And you?” His lips grazed mine as he spoke. “When I last saw you, your body... your wounds...”

“Nothing serious,” I rushed out. “Already healed.”

Air flooded out of him, his shoulders going slack. He pulled me in for a long, languid kiss that felt desperate, yet exquisitely tender.

As the kiss deepened, he arched against me, his hard muscles rippling beneath my palms. The press of him ground my back against the bark, the rough friction sending fire through my blood.

“You sent me back to Lumnos,” he said gruffly.

“You might have died if I hadn’t.”

“And you jumped in front of a blade meant for me.”

“You might have died then, too.”

His fingers slid beneath my jaw and twitched at my throat, curling in against my skin. “Neither of those things can happen again. Ever .”

I didn’t respond, grateful for the darkness that concealed my eyeroll.

“Promise me,” he demanded.

“I can’t. And I won’t.”

He said nothing for a long moment, but with his chest pressed so close to mine, I felt his heartbeat speed its pace. One hand slid into my hair, still soaked from being dumped into the sea by a wayward boat. His fingers fisted in the long white strands with a tug that forced my face up further toward his.

“I require a promise, Your Majesty,” he growled.

“I promise you I’ll do anything to protect my people.” My palm moved to his chest and settled over his heart. “That includes you, Luther Corbois, whether you like it or not.”

He let out an unhappy sigh, and I smirked at my small victory. In the darkness, I pictured the muscles feathering along his jaw, his glacial eyes narrowing.

“Why are your clothes wet?” he asked.

I pulled my cloak tighter and laid my temple against his cheek, relishing the warmth of his flesh. “I have so much to tell you.”

“So do I. Your brother is safe. I left my best guards on his watch, and Perthe has fixed himself to Teller’s side until you return. But your mother—”

“—is in prison in Fortos.” I sighed heavily. “I know. Cordellia, the woman in charge of the rebel camp, told me everything. I know my mother is a Guardian.” I paused. “And I know how she got to the island.”

His muscles tensed. “Are you angry with me for not telling you?”

I didn’t answer at first—not because I was mad, but because I was ashamed. I had been such a hypocrite, giving him hell over his secrets, all the while hiding truths about my own involvement in the Guardians that had put him and his family at risk.

“I expected her to return with us at the coronation,” he rushed out. “I wanted to give her the chance to tell you herself. I thought you both deserved that chance. But if she hadn’t, I would have. I wasn’t going to leave you in the dark. Diem, I swear—”

“I’m not angry,” I said softly. “There are things I kept from you, too.”

I stared across the shadows, where Taran and Alixe waited nearby. I trusted that Luther’s feelings for me were strong enough to overcome my deceit, but I could not say the same for them. Selfishly, I could not bear it if I lost their faith.

I dropped my voice low. “We’ll speak later. I want to know everything—and I want you to know everything, too.”

He laid a light kiss below my ear, a sweet gesture of confirmation. This was one vow I had every intention of keeping. Whatever lies we once told, from this point forward, we couldn’t let them divide us.

Our lives might end up depending on it.