38. Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Archer
The betrayal was bitter and sharp, consuming me with more grief than I would have expected when I’d only just begun to think maybe I was falling for Isoria. But the anger—that was comforting.
Of course she tricked you. That’s what death-lovers do, I thought darkly.
But as I stood, following her across the room and half-relishing her fear as it shuddered through our bond, I was still half-drowned with sorrow.
“You have to free Bren,” she choked out, backing up against the wall. “Follow my orders.”
My smile was all sharp edges, like if I wasn’t careful, I’d cut myself on it.
It was fitting, considering my foolish heart was bleeding out inside my aching chest. “You didn’t say anything about doing it immediately.
” I leaned forward, pressing my hands against the wall to cage her in.
“How long have you been manipulating me?”
She blinked rapidly, as if trying to keep the tears at bay. “Please.”
She was acting—again. Just as she had with our passionate kisses, with her tender ways. Was anything about her true?
“How long, Isa?” I didn’t know why I used her nickname. Maybe it was a symptom of the last, dying gasp of my hope. Hope that she’d reveal a tender side and wasn’t totally unfeeling.
“I didn’t find the potion until I was out with your sister,” she said. “When I saw my brother, I was desperate.”
“You didn’t think you could ask me.”
“You hunt phoenixes. Why would you free Bren?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Could I blame her? What reason did she have to trust me? “I would have freed him,” I muttered, but it hardly mattered now. There was no proving myself when I was magic-bound to save him now.
Stepping back, I put distance between us so Isoria could pull away from the wall and approach the doorway. “He’s my brother,” she retorted. “I couldn’t take any risks.”
And the worst part of all of this was that I couldn’t even blame her.