Chapter 71
Zadriel
Eden wasn’t far. That didn’t stop Zadriel from prolonging their journey, leading them through overgrown paths clad with muddy boulders and thick roots marring the soil as if they could bar him from the village themselves.
Their pace was slow. The passing days granting him no solace.
Frigid azure haunted his mind, and he swore he felt the burn of Brennan’s stare on his back, day after day, but...
Zadriel adjusted his hold on Darius, the child wriggling in his arms, babbling while Zadriel attempted to quiet his thoughts.
It was a feat, drowning out the noise as he searched for the ethereal tether binding him to the Dother bloodline.
Feeling for a tug in his center urging him to wander in a different direction...
and finding none. With a Dother in his arms, his curse was quiet. Satiated.
Still, Zadriel looked over his shoulder, sweeping past Aedlin, Aoife trailing a few paces behind. He stared at the brush, dark eyes peeking around an overgrown field dotted with sparse clusters of trees, searching for signs of Brennan.
Did he follow, wrapped in shadows?
Or was Zadriel growing paranoid?
With his next breath, lavender teased his lungs, calming the rush of blood careening through his veins. Remnants of a dream. His nightly reprieve with the Little Witch the only thing keeping his sanity from cracking.
Would it hold him together once he faced Brennan?
Once he truly confronted the consequences of Cillian’s death?
Darius squirmed, arms outstretched. “Mama!” he squeaked, fisting a few stray strands of hair peeking out from Zadriel’s black hood, and tugging.
His amber and azure eyes locked onto a mother who had no interest in holding him today.
Zadriel hissed at the sting in his scalp, admonishing the little one.
A deep frown tugged on Aedlin’s lips. She sighed when she pulled Darius into her arms. “We should find a place to rest.”
“What?” Aoife’s steps quickened, pink splotching her cheeks. “It’s barely past noon.” There was a bite to her words, her voice clipped.
Zadriel knew it was his fault—he shouldn’t have bared his teeth at her.
He’d thought—he’d hoped—all was well once he’d found her on the cliffside above Esper Rocks, but when his panic over Brennan subsided, their silence grew awkward.
Things had been off since. Aoife had little to say to him or Aedlin, her mood growing more somber as time passed.
Part of him wondered if she noticed how he’d slowed their pace. Did she think he’d break their bargain?
It was a laughable idea. Even if avoiding Eden were an option, Zadriel wasn’t foolish enough to invite the Mother’s retribution any more than he already had.
Aoife had witnessed the consequences firsthand with Aedlin after Zadriel was taken; breaking a vow or a bargain only invited pain, the binding magic rebounding.
Driving the oath-breaker to madness until they complied.
Surely, Aoife knew Zadriel would never willingly subject himself to such a thing...
but apart from his earlier show of aggression, he could find no other explanation for her distance.
Sweat beaded on Zadriel’s brow, heat radiating beneath his hood.
The sun bore down on them, unburdened by the wisps of white clouds falling apart in a clear blue sky, like delicate pieces of cotton torn by the hands of an invisible God.
He wiped the moisture away with his forearm, casting a wary gaze down at Aoife.
“It’s hot and Darius should eat,” he offered, tipping his head toward a handful of trees that would shelter them while they rested.
If he was lucky, they’d remain there until morning—the closer they inched toward the north end of Baith, the more difficult it would be to find a good place to make camp.
Still, they’d reach Eden within a handful of days.
Cold azure flashed in his mind once more, a fire erupting along the scars on his arms. Echoes of past pain searing the marks. He pressed a hand against a thick cluster of them, willing the ache away.
Zadriel didn’t want to go back.
The wind grew stronger as Aoife changed course and marched through the field, billowing beneath her cloak and picking up the ruddy fabric. Tossing it around her like a cape.
“At this rate, our travels will continue until winter returns,” Aedlin said, eyeing the horizon as if she were assessing a potential foe and deciding how best to approach it.
Aoife scoffed in agreement. The fallen queen pursed her lips and threw a confused look Zadriel’s way, but he merely shrugged.
Overgrown weeds tugged at Aedlin’s simple dress, a garment she must have stolen while they were apart. It was a light blue, the dye faded in places along the loose-fitting bodice—nothing like the clothing she was accustomed to, though she hadn’t complained.
Long strands of brown hair fell down her back, her posture perfect while she carved a path through the budding wildflowers, careful to avoid the few remaining clumps of snow.
Her fair skin now kissed with a warm glow from the sun.
Aedlin moved like a queen, holding her child and walking through unkempt grass like she walked the halls of Castle Berwick.
What would life in Eden do to that royal spirit?
Zadriel almost didn’t want to know.
Cool shade brushed his face, young spring leaves fluttering in the trees above.
He let their bags slip down his arm and plunk onto the dirt, and Aoife frowned, staring at their belongings with narrowed eyes.
The shake of her head before she turned her attention to a patch of wild strawberry blossoms was so minute, he nearly missed it.
“Is there a reason you’re angry with me, Aoife?” Zadriel asked, pulling a bread roll from his pack.
She inhaled sharply, her fingers stilling on white flower petals. “I’m not mad at you.”
“How cruel of the Mother to allow Halflings to lie.” He tore into the roll with his teeth, hard crust crunching while he chewed, a look on his face that said, tell me the truth.
A quiet laugh was all Aoife offered before she turned back to the delicate flowers. It almost sounded... bitter?
Aedlin raised a brow, looking between them before sitting by Zadriel’s side.
Nonsensical babbles erupted from Darius, his chubby fingers pointing at the bread until his mother plucked him a roll from Zadriel’s bag and broke off a piece.
“We need to find butter.” When she took a bite, she grimaced and sighed. “Or jam... or anything.”
“Our food stores are low,” Aoife agreed, glancing sidelong at Zadriel. “You said Eden was close when we left Esper Rocks. I assumed we’d be there by now.”
His jaw ticked. “Our journey is nearly over,” he mumbled around his food, ignoring the ache building in his chest.
Leaves rustled overhead, the wind whistling as it rushed around them. Aoife crossed her arms as if she could force her emotions down and calm her powerful outburst, but it was no use. And it told Zadriel enough.
Despite everything, she didn’t trust him.
He wiped his hands on his dark breeches before he stood, crumbs tumbling from the fabric to sprinkle the dry blades of grass.
“I stay true to my bargains,” he seethed, shadows darkening his eyes.
Zadriel didn’t wait for a response—he stepped around Aedlin and walked through the field, fingers grazing the weeds. The breeze calming as he moved away.
It was foolish, looking eastward, toward Galdon’s Crossing, wishing he could escape to the Little Witch in the waking realm. Wondering if he’d ever see her again.
Was his mate safe? Was she well?
Had she found solace in the arms of the blond? Or... someone close enough?
He ground his teeth, an ache pulsing in his cheeks.
It didn’t matter that a gentle hint of lavender, smothered by embers and kissed by pine, somehow clung to his clothes—he could no longer feel her.
The warmth that had enveloped his heart for more than a year, while Cillian played king, was gone. Appearing only in his dreams.
Zadriel had strayed too far, and there was no going back. What little freedom remained slipped away with the last of the snow—once they made it to Eden, dreams would be all he had. All he could ever hope for.
When he searched for Mora in his soul, all he found was Darius, the tether vibrating in his chest until he felt the tremor in his bones. A warning not to stray far. How was he to find peace when even his quiet moments were loud, the calming cadence of his mate’s song gone from the winds?
“You don’t deserve peace,” Zadriel hissed.
“That’s a cruel way to think of yourself.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Zadriel suppressed a growl. “What do you want, Aedlin?”
There was nothing quiet about her footsteps—her shoes crunched on the dried rot lining the field, autumn’s bones scattered beneath spring’s growth. Zadriel was simply too distracted to notice her approach.
She stopped a few paces away. “Something’s upset you.”
Zadriel exhaled a long breath before he turned to face her.
In the distance, Arcadia watched, a dark line of evergreens, birches, oaks, and maples coalescing into a wall of swaying green.
A strip of the Forest curled like a talon, sweeping past Baith and wrapping itself around Eden, hiding them from the rest of Berwick.
Holding the Halflings as close to the Mother’s bosom as She’d allow without letting them in.
Protecting them. “I spent weeks under a blood thrall, bleeding out in agony over and over again, because I saved her... and she doesn’t trust me. ”
Aedlin smirked, though there was no joy in it. “My daughter used to keep secrets from me.”
How something could soothe his heart and simultaneously rake its claws into the organ until the burn enveloped him, he had no idea.
Mora.
His Little Witch.
The daughter Aedlin would give anything to find. A mate Zadriel would protect from Eden and Brennan at any cost, even if it meant keeping her from her mother. From himself.
Perhaps he had no right to expect anyone’s trust.
“I’m sorry to hear it,” he offered, wondering what this had to do with Aoife.
“It’s natural, hiding away parts of yourself.
Protecting the pieces of your inner world you think others won’t accept.
” Her amber eyes grew pained. “No matter how I tried to prepare her for it, Mora did not want the life I had to offer. I could see it in her eyes, a longing to be somewhere else. A need to claim something different, something she chose for herself.” Aedlin lifted her chin, her sharp gaze daring him to deny her.
“Which is why I know you don’t want to go to Eden. ”
“I...” Zadriel bit his tongue, searching for the right words, damning his gods forsaken nature.
The fallen queen shook her head. “You can’t lie.” Something hardened in her stare when she looked back toward the cluster of trees sheltering their packs, watching Aoife play with Darius. Aedlin leaned closer to Zadriel and whispered, “I don’t wish to go either.”
The breeze was soft, slipping over his cheeks, chasing away some of the heat—he didn’t think Aoife listened, but still, Zadriel kept his voice quiet. “There is nowhere safe for you or Darius in Berwick, apart from Eden.”
“I see no reason why we can’t create a safe place of our own.
” The queen’s focus lingered on Aoife, as if she too wondered how discreet they needed to be.
“There are enough people who won’t recognize me in common clothes, with no crown on my head.
Give it time, and those who would may soon forget as well. ”
“It’s a risk.”
“One I’m willing to take.” Hope swelled behind Zadriel’s ribs, and he couldn’t decide if he should smother it or let it burn, but then Aedlin added, “I won’t travel somewhere you clearly fear.”
His throat worked. “I fear for myself, Aedlin. Not you. Certainly not Darius.”
“That’s enough for me to choose a different path. Besides”—Aedlin pressed a hand to her heart, her face set with grim determination—“I need to find my daughter. There is no Eden without her.”
On that they could agree. Mora had become his own heaven over these long months. A taste of what could have been.
He was a fool for allowing himself to picture it, a life where Aedlin and Mora were reunited, and Zadriel was free to forge his own path with his mate, if she welcomed it. Still... “I could never leave Darius’s side.”
Aedlin shrugged a shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll grow to appreciate it.”
He raked a hand through his hair, daring another glance toward the Elementalist. “I promised to bring Aoife to Eden.”
Aedlin came to stand by his side, hands clasped behind her back. “Lead her there and allow her to finish the journey on her own if she wishes, though she’s welcome to stay with us if she prefers.”
Zadriel nodded, feeling lighter somehow, that flicker of hope burning brighter in his heart. It was unwise of him to cling to something so fragile, but, for once, he settled into the feeling until it enveloped him. Never wanting to let it go.