Chapter Thirty-Four #3
“Even with a headstart, I can still beat you to the den,” I pronounced, mentioning our destination—where my griffin was.
“Let’s see if you’re right or not,” she challenged, a small smile playing on her lips—though it had a sad undertone to the expression.
Deciding to let it go for right then, I leapt into the sky and flew after Aurora—who had, indeed, gotten a headstart.
***
After spending hours helping Ezra teach Margo about the different zirilium in an alcove of The Haven’s library, I was exhausted.
It hadn’t occurred to me before then why Ezra had requested my presence specifically until the topic of study came up.
Then, I spent the next few hours giving demonstrations of different zirilium—and explaining the ones that weren’t safe to do while indoors, surrounded by flammable items and other fae.
Margo had been disappointed when she realized she wouldn’t get to see my lightning up close, but she’d understood well enough—after making me promise to show her another time.
Night had fallen over Cairnyl over an hour ago. I’d told Ezra and Margo earlier in our studies that I had dinner plans, but time had slipped through our fingers faster than we could try to catch it. Once we realized how late it was, I had to excuse myself as I apologized profusely.
Only as I turned the corner into the royal wing of The Haven did I allow myself to slow my pace from a near-run to a brisk walk. Aurora’s chambers were at the other end of the corridor, but I took the opportunity to smooth my hair down and tame my bangs as I walked.
The wing was quieter than I’d expected, but considering it was nighttime, maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. Perhaps everybody else was feeling the exhaustion, too.
As I passed by the lounge room that Quinn, Byn, and Rayven had exited earlier in the day, I noticed the door was slightly ajar.
I knew Quinn had shut it firmly behind her, but it was always possible that Byn or Rayven had visited again, and hadn’t been quite as careful.
Taking the liberty to protect whatever Quinn didn’t want to reveal inside, I reached over and slid the door shut before carrying on down the corridor.
Stopping in front of Aurora’s door, I knocked the familiar pattern of the Valwain.
“Aurora, it’s me. Are you ready for dinner?” I called out when she didn’t immediately answer the door.
When the moment stretched on, with silence the only thing greeting me from the other side of the door, I grew nervous that she’d decided against dinner.
Focusing a thread of my energy toward one of the sun stones on my gloved hand, I channeled that into the stone of the floor beneath me.
I reached out through that earthy material, feeling throughout the chambers on the other side of the door.
And came up empty.
“Aurora, I’m coming in,” I announced as I reached for the handle—only for it to be locked.
I bit my lip in a moment of contemplation before I funneled more energy into a moon stone.
Holding out a hand to the lock, I froze it and the surrounding area, then backed up.
I was suddenly grateful I’d decided on trousers today as in one swift motion I kicked the door in, the lock and ice shattering as one.
What I saw on the other side of the door made my stomach drop to the floor.
The room was empty.
Aurora wasn’t there, nor were any of her belongings.
The one bag she’d arrived with was gone, along with its contents.
The dresses and other items I’d given her in her time with us, though, were folded and organized neatly on the perfectly made bed.
Stepping closer, my anxiety spiked when I saw a folded paper atop one yellow dress.
And it had my name scrawled on the outside in Aurora’s handwriting.
Aviva,
If you’re reading this, you’ve already found that I’ve left.
I don’t have a better reason than the fact that he needs me, Viva. You’re gone, your father is gone, and I’m all he has left. If I stay gone, too, what then?
Please don’t hate me when you discover all I’ve done.
But in the end, you have everything you ever wanted. It’s his turn to get what he wants.
The Stars know he deserves it.
I’m so sorry.
Aurora
I read it once, twice, three times, trying to wrap my head around what had happened. It took me until after the second read-through for me to realize the he mentioned in the note was speaking of Dimitri—he was the only one that made sense in that context.
My breath was ragged, as if I’d just returned from a long run. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, stunned, reeling, reading it over and over. I glanced at the made bed, the bare room, the spaces where my friend had existed, where she no longer was—and a part of me mourned.
Then Byn’s hands were cupping my face, turning me toward him. He must have been talking, asking me things, but all I could do was meagerly hand the note to him.
He read it once, then wrapped me up in a tight embrace. I could feel him pushing a wave of relaxation toward me through our intertwined souls, and I drank it in—just enough to slow my breathing.
And once there was enough air in my lungs again, it clicked.
I pulled from Byn’s embrace, my eyes on the door and the corridor beyond.
“What is it, Avi?” he asked, following my gaze.
“Byn, what was in the room that you, Quinn, and Rayven were in earlier today?” I questioned, my mind begging the Stars for my gut not to be right.
“Our war plans, mostly. Maps, soldier and trokav counts, strategies—things of that nature. Why—”
Before he could finish his thought, I was slipping out of the room and breezing down the hallway until I was flinging open the lounge door—the same one I’d slid shut not long ago.
Only to find the main table in the center of the room bare.
The same place where I could only assume the plans had been earlier that day.
Byn rushed in behind me, then paused. Taking it in for a moment, he swore when he realized what had happened that day.
Aurora had betrayed us.
She’d betrayed me.