Chapter Thirty-Three
EVERYTHING HAPPENED IN A FEVER DREAM.
I was awake but not.
Conscious but burning.
Uncle Wen joined his wife in tears and Auntie Mei tried to kowtow at my feet, only to jerk upright as Whisper stalked forward and hissed.
They tried to touch me; Rook stepped in and shielded me.
They jabbered about so many things; my ears rang too loudly to hear.
They beckoned me to go home...I followed.
However, I didn’t remember moving as we left the cliff and stepped through the black and gold gates of Ashfall Cliff.
I didn’t know how I operated my hands and feet when I could no longer feel such things.
All I could feel was fire.
Burning.
Burning.
People came from all directions, disgruntled and peeved until Uncle Wen flung out his arms and presented me like I was a long-lost prince.
I locked down every muscle as Uncle Wen gathered everyone into the central courtyard, introducing me to every gardener, cook, maid, and handyman, reeling off far too many names.
I braced myself as they touched me for good luck.
I gritted my teeth as hands—far, far too many hands worshipped me and welcomed me, making my insides roar with flames.
“You’re alive!” someone said.
“How is this possible?” another cried.
“Why did you not come home sooner?”
“Where have you been?!”
I gritted my teeth and couldn’t answer.
Whisper never left my side and Rook...she was the only reason I didn’t break. She was a drop of cold in my world of heat. A snowflake that I clung to even as my bones melted.
Something was wrong with me.
Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
I needed space.
I needed ice.
I need her—
“Xiao Lu,” Uncle Wen cut into my surging thoughts.
I was suddenly seven again—knees scraped, hands sticky from candied hawthorn—my mother laughing as she brushed dirt from my trousers, telling me not to run so fast—
That nickname from my youth.
The innocence of such a thing that’d become the worst sort of foreshadowing.
Did my parents call me Luxin because they knew all along what I was? Did they know what I would become? That I would die on the very same day that I returned home, detonating into a pile of ash on the marble tiles where I’d played as a little boy?
“You must be hungry, Xiao Lu,” Auntie Mei said.
“I’ll get you something to drink, sir.” A serving girl smiled.
“Come. Sit. Tell us where you’ve been all this time,” Uncle Wen urged.
Too much.
Too much!
Whisper lost all his obedience, feeling me so close to snapping. Launching forward, he shoved them all back with a fanged snarl and clawed swipe.
And I didn’t have the strength to stop him.
These people thought I was the same innocent child that’d been stolen.
They would never understand the depth of my hatred for Marcus and the board members who’d betrayed me. Never know the bloodthirsty savagery to slaughter them all—
Only one person could come close.
One person I desperately needed to help me...
I reached for her blindly and found her beside me, cold and calm and mine.
Her presence snapped around me as I crushed her against my side.
Someone tried to press a plate of sweets into my hand.
Someone offered me wine.
Whisper kept most of the crowd at bay, but it wasn’t enough.
I’d thought coming home would be silent and still.
That the estate would be abandoned, and I could gather my strength for the war I still had to win.
Why were there so many people here?
Were they still loyal to my lineage or to Marcus?
The huge gates clanged shut and the spacious courtyard started to blur. Blossoms bled into ponds; pillars tumbled into the lawn.
I was trapped.
Going insane.
Burning.
“I-I need to get the hell out of here,” I choked, pressing my lips to Rook’s icy temple. “Help. Now.”
The inferno howled inside me.
Even her wintery energy wasn’t enough.
A throbbing in my chest.
A tearing in my bones.
Flames roared through my blood so abruptly, my knees threatened to buckle.
Rook locked her arm around my waist, taking some of my weight as I straddled the line of awake and passing out.
I wanted to pass out.
At least the fire would stop.
Another wave tore through me—violent and volcanic—like magma replaced my blood. The marble pavers beneath my boots scorched black.
Someone gasped at the smoke.
Someone mumbled a scared question.
Whisper snarled, ears flat, hissing at my pain.
My heart slammed so hard, it felt like it might rupture.
Too much.
Too many.
Too hot.
So hot.
I couldn’t breathe.
I can’t breathe—
Make it stop!