29. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Archer
Isoria was in my kitchen again, furiously icing a chocolate cake with a generous dollop of chocolate frosting. Her cheeks flushed, her golden eyes bright from the heat of the still-cooling oven and, likely, her own emotions I could feel pressing in on me, she looked…
I shook my head, catching myself. Why was my heart softening when I looked at her?
Just because I’d felt her grief for her mother and she’d understood mine for a moment, just because she healed and showed a gentle side…
none of it meant she was trustworthy. I’d already taken a risk with Scarlet, even with the blood vow.
What if she decided to break it anyway, to die and be reborn in her phoenix ashes?
So much of the phoenix power of life and death was a mystery to me, and though Isoria couldn’t lie, I still couldn’t trust she either omitted some of the truth or wasn’t fully aware of what they were capable of.
But here she was, the female I’d spent the evening holding and flirting with, the one I had to pretend I was enamored with, doing something so…mundane. If she’d wanted a cake, she could have ordered any of the servants to bake one, but once again, she was toiling in the kitchen alone.
It made her seem so…innocent. Tender. The exact image of a healer who only wanted to create and pour goodness and comfort and love into the world, not death and revenge and destruction. It was a jolting image, each time.
I started strolling down the hall toward my bedchamber, but her voice, low and weary-sounding, made me stop. “Going to drown your guilt in wine again?”
My stomach flipped. Another confusing reaction, since I had no reason to care about what Isoria thought of me. “Are you volunteering to heal me instead?” I asked, keeping my tone light so it came out like a jest as I turned back to hover in the kitchen entrance.
Isoria stiffened, whirling on me. Her anger wasn’t intimidating, even when it throbbed through my veins like it was my own.
Maybe it was because I could feel her grief and fear mingled with it, the bitter taste of her disgust toward me.
“Maybe I’d rather endure your hollow pain than give you relief.
” Her throat worked. “It isn’t right; a phoenix shifter healing one who hunts and annihilates my kind. ”
Lifting my brows, I shrugged like nothing she said cut me, like she couldn’t feel the emotions eating me alive anyway. “Then I’ll be on my way to drown my sorrows. Goodnight.”
“Wait.” Her voice cracked.
I froze, unable to pry myself from the doorway I clung to as Isoria walked to me. A tear slipped down her cheek as she lifted her hand and placed it against my chest, over my pounding heart. “I can’t leave you to suffer. Despite all the suffering you put my people through.”
The ache that spread through me wasn’t mine—it was hers, piercing the void that threatened to overtake me. She was still thinking of the boy I’d nearly left motherless. Probably thinking of others in the past that I didn’t know I’d orphaned.
“I’m glad she escaped,” she said, chin set stubbornly as her magic delved into me, soothing me with peace I didn’t deserve.
“So am I.” I hadn’t meant to utter the words aloud, to confess to anything, but there they were.
Isoria had closed her eyes to focus, but they flew open now, her gaze piercing mine.
Her surprise, her sadness, the slight softening of her emotions, the flicker of hope—I felt it all.
My hand moved as if of its own accord, brushing the tear from her cheek.
I was lost in her eyes, in the connection between us, in the terrifying intimacy that was being unable to hide a single emotion from the female before me.
My life was like a performance, my charming smile always in place to keep my people happy, my father satisfied.
But with her, I was bare, unable to hide behind my mask.
Her palm was still on my chest; my hand lingered against her cheek. She exhaled softly, and my eyes dropped to her lips. She’s luring you in, making you drop your guard, I reminded myself. Don’t fall for this.
I jerked backward as a familiar voice called from the hall.
“Archer?” It was Owen, and he sounded urgent.
Footsteps stopped short, likely taking in the scene and imagining something very different about to happen.
Lily chimed in. “Oooh. Cake and kisses. I can see why you left the party early.”
Don’t forget to play along. I thought at Isoria as I forced a laugh, picking the farce back up like we’d never left it behind at the party. “It was difficult to resist her in this dress.” I trailed a finger along Isoria’s cheek.
Her breathing hitched, and I could feel her disgust and annoyance. At least if Lily or Owen noticed, they would think it was from desire. “He really is a fool for me,” she quipped.
I let my eyes narrow the smallest bit. “Indeed.”
“We thought something was wrong or you received a message from Liana about revenants.” Owen looked uncharacteristically uncertain and awkward, giving me the urge to chuckle. “It seems we barged in without need.”
“It’s all right. I was about to go relax in my own rooms or read,” Isoria said.
Lily watched her with a sympathetic look, her own smile tight.
“We’re all tired of the parties. It’s hard to endure the excess when you know the king and his court are leaving the rest of Emberglade to suffer.
When you’ve seen what we have.” She hesitated.
“Do you want a companion to read with you? Or do you need to be alone?” She sounded so hopeful, it made my heart sting.
Of course she wanted a good female friend. If she knew what Isoria was…
I could feel the twist of pain and doubt within Isoria, but she nodded. “Yes, you can join me, Lily.”
It wasn’t until I watched them leave that I realized I hadn’t been breathing normally in Isoria’s presence.
“You really are besotted.” Owen arched a brow, as if he hadn’t been quite convinced till now by Isoria’s and my performance. It wasn’t like I could be surprised, considering I hadn’t given him any indication of settling down before.
I made myself smile, but every inch of me prickled with unease.