52. Zai
Zai
Icouldn’t stop staring at the woman kneeling beside me. A dangerous thrill raced through my veins as I drank in the heat spreading across her skin. The spike in temperature bloomed from her chest into her cheeks.
Making her fluster was far too exhilarating, almost addictive.
Blue light pulsed beneath her palms, washing away the worst of the pain clawing through my leg. A traitorous voice whispered that I wanted her hands to roam free, to explore my body. Wanted her to climb on top of me and—
I shoved the thought away. She was from the Moon Queendom, for the sunless void. Besides, she’d never want me anyway. After everything I’d done, how would I even begin to earn her trust?
Of course… an apology might be a start.
I wet my lips, but before I could speak, Kestrel bounded through the opening. Erion followed close behind, carrying a basket filled to the brim.
Kestrel launched into animated babbling, hands gesturing wildly. “You won’t believe what we found! There’s this cottage tucked between the trees not far from here—a family of woodcutters! I sang them a song and wouldn’t you know it, they gave us bread, cheese, apples, and even a bottle of—”
His voice cut off as his gaze locked onto my half-naked body sprawled across the stretcher with Lora’s hands on my bare thigh.
“Uh.” Kestrel’s mouth hung open. “Did we… interrupt something?”
“Well…” I smirked, glancing at Lora.
“Ha ha, funny,” she grumbled.
Erion’s frown transformed into something harder, something I hadn’t seen in him before. Jaw clenched, he stalked into the shallow cave and positioned himself behind Lora, his narrowed eyes fixed on me.
Tension coiled in my chest. The image of Lora kissing him twisted through my mind like poisonous smoke.
“Anyway…” Kestrel threw his arms wide. “Let’s eat!”
He snatched the basket from Erion and started handing out bread and cheese. Lora accepted hers only after demanding he wrap it in cloth, to avoid smearing her food with her bloody hands.
She tore a large chunk from the bread with her teeth, jaw working with fierce determination as she resumed healing the wound. Crumbs clung to her lower lip, and something primal roared in my core.
Kestrel popped open the bottle, tipped it back, then exhaled loudly and thrust it toward me.
I propped myself into a sitting position and took several gulps. The amber liquid seared down my throat, harsh and warming, loosening the tension in my muscles. I offered it to Lora.
With a grunt, she snatched it from my grasp and downed several mouthfuls. Wincing, she shoved it into Erion’s hands.
As we passed the bottle around, my gaze stayed fixed on her. Every graceful shift of her shoulders, every determined press of her palms against torn muscle. She was as strong and agile as a mountain cravik navigating across traitorous crags.
Images of her drifted through my mind—her graceful movements as she’d fought off guards in the prison courtyard. But up on the ramparts, she’d gone all rigid as the reinforcements arrived. The color had drained from her face and that broken whisper had left her lips.
It’s him.
Had she meant Commander Solvar? The name was still etched into my mind. The bastard from my first trip to Gravendale Border Camp, who’d treated me like something stuck to his boot.
“That commander…” I murmured. “The one who arrived with the reinforcements. You know him?”
Lora stiffened, her muscles tensing beneath her rust-red dress.
“You mean the man who killed her mother?” Erion cut in, voice sharp, shifting closer to her.
My stomach twisted. Had the commander really killed Lora’s mother? Savage heat roared through me. I wanted to burn the blaze-wretched filth to a heap of smoldering ash.
Erion glared at me like he wanted me to understand just how much more he knew about her. How much closer he stood to her heart than I ever could.
Lora’s head whipped toward him, eyes blazing.
A flush crept up his neck. His lips pressed together as realization crossed his face. She’d probably told him that in confidence, and he’d blurted it out like a badge of honor.
Satisfaction flickered through me at his discomfort. But Lora clearly didn’t want to dwell on the topic. Too personal. And she didn’t trust me.
Neither of them did. Somehow, I had to earn their forgiveness. Any words I could offer seemed hollow and meaningless, but I had to say something.
I drew a steadying breath. “For what it’s worth… I’m sorry for—”
“For trying to kill us?” Lora’s voice cracked like a whip.
Scratching my neck, I glanced away. “Yeah… that.”
Her voice quivered with restrained rage. “And for actually killing our guards? Our friends.”
“Your…? Oh, you mean—” I swallowed as memories of our first fight surfaced. “To be fair, the monsters killed most of them.”
Her jaw clenched. “And what about the ones still alive when Erion and I left? What did you do to them?”
Heat crept up my neck, and my gaze slid to Kestrel. His eyebrows lifted in obvious curiosity.
But I couldn’t tell her the truth. If I admitted to torturing and killing the last three guards, she’d shove an ice spike through my heart.
I cleared my throat. “We took off and left them behind. No idea what happened to them.”
Lora’s gaze snapped to Kestrel, searching his face.
Blazing void, I was done for now. Kestrel had nothing to gain from protecting my lie. He seemed eager to team up with them and could easily earn the Dual Wielder’s trust by exposing me. He would announce my lie, just as Therovan had.
But he only offered a small nod in confirmation, and relief surged through me. He’d covered for me. My heart swelled with a tender ache.
The blue glow vanished from Lora’s palms as her voice dropped to a murmur. “Silt and rot, I shouldn’t have left them.”
She blamed herself. Of course she did. The way she’d stepped in and protected friend and foe alike—of course she’d carry the weight of their deaths on her shoulders as well.
Bitter shame twisted through me. Their blood stained my hands, not hers.
Erion squeezed her shoulder, crouching beside her. “It’s not your fault. You did what you had to.”
His hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into it, eyes closing.
A beast reared inside me, a territorial fury I had no right to feel. I locked it down before it consumed me.
“What about Caldera?” Lora’s head whipped toward me.
I frowned. “Who?”
“The woman in Brookfalls. What did you do to her after Erion and I went into the river?”
“Oh, the—” I stopped myself before calling her the traitor.
Lora glared at me, and even Erion’s gaze sharpened with suspicion.
I had to give them at least part of the truth to make it believable. “She kept attacking us, but we overpowered her and…” I swallowed. “One of the pirates pierced her through with a spear.”
At least it was partly true. Tera had thrown the spear. But I’d poured heat over her along with the rest of the crew—the true cause of her death. I was a coward for concealing it.
Erion’s throat worked, pain etched into his features.
Lora turned to him, resting her forehead against his. “We’ll make her sacrifice matter.” Her voice quivered. “We’ll seal the rift and tell the world of her bravery.”
Erion nodded weakly. Unspoken words passed between them. The beast inside wanted to tear him away and take his place.
Jaw clenched, I racked my brain for something to break their tender moment. “So… how exactly do you plan to close the rift?”
Lora didn’t even glance my way, but distrust radiated from every line of her body.
Kestrel grinned around a bite of bread. “They need a sun stone from the Forbidden Archives.”
Lora’s glare snapped to him.
Kestrel shrugged, unbothered. “What? He asked. And you weren’t exactly subtle about it in the pit.”
I shot him the hint of a smile, grateful for how he played along. I already knew about the sun stone, of course, but this didn’t seem like the right time to reveal we’d paid Lora’s family a visit.
“A sun stone,” I mused. “And how would that help close the rift?”
Kestrel shrugged. “Good question. Beats me.”
Lora’s glacial stare could’ve frozen a river solid. Erion crossed his arms in silent mutiny.
They didn’t want me knowing their plans. Fair enough. But the truth had settled deep in my chest. They weren’t a threat to the Sun Kingdom—they were trying to save it. Save all of us. Knowing that, there was no way I could bring the Dual Wielder to Father.
Despite my miserable life in the palace, a hollow ache settled in my core at the thought of never returning. It was my home. And even if my family despised me, they were my flesh and blood.
But by abandoning Father’s mission, I’d sealed my fate as an outcast forever.
Or… maybe not.
If I helped close the rift, perhaps I could convince Father it had been the better choice.
Surely, he’d allow me back when he saw the truth for himself.
With the rift gone, he’d understand the Dual Wielder was never a threat.
He’d have no choice but to acknowledge that I’d helped save the world from the monsters.
The thought lit an ember of hope inside me. But the chance of returning home wasn’t the only reason to help the Dual Wielder.
Somewhere beneath years of dutiful training and bitter pride, something fundamental had shifted. A pull toward something I’d been fighting ever since Mother died.
I wanted to be part of this. Part of something right.
My gaze lifted to meet Lora’s, my voice a low growl. “I’ll help you get the stone.”
She scoffed. “Really? You’ve been trying to kill us, and now you want to help? Why?”
A smirk tugged at my mouth. “It just seems like the right thing to do.”
Her lips tightened as I echoed her own words back at her. She shook her head. “Forget it.”
I raised a challenging brow. “I can get you into the Forbidden Archives.”
Her glare pinned me in place. “How?”
My smirk widened. “It has a door that only opens to royal blood.”