Chapter 20
Phoenix
Work is good. It’s cleaner. Easier.
I sat in a study alcove at the back of the Sorrowsea library, poring over tome after tome, looking for references to the medallion Elle had found.
I had a few leads—nothing concrete. The reading was dense, layered with conflicting symbology and lost languages. Which suited me fine.
Complexity was better than chaos. Which made Caelen’s arrival especially unwelcome.
He sat himself down across from me like he belonged there, like we were friends, like he wasn’t the last person I wanted to see.
He picked up the medallion before I could stop him, turning it over in his hands.
“So,” he sighed. “She did tell you.”
I snatched the medallion back, glaring.
“Do you mind?”
“Actually,” he said, leaning back in the chair, annoyingly relaxed. “I do.”
He gestured toward two robed attendants weaving through the stacks—green hoods drawn, arms full. They crossed the room and dumped their burden onto the table in front of us.
Heavy tomes. Ancient bindings. Symbols I hadn’t seen outside restricted sections.
The books landed with a dull thump.
“I thought these might help,” Caelen said, straightening the books with care. “They’re… personal to me. I figured you’d want every angle.”
I leaned in, slow and deliberate. “Let’s get one thing straight,” I said, voice low. “I don’t trust you. And I don’t need your help to figure this out.”
I slid the closest book aside with a flick of my fingers. “But thanks for the gesture.”
Caelen tilted his head, maddeningly calm. “Now, now. No need to lose your temper.”
I leaned back and smiled—tight and cold.
“You’re right. I’m perfectly calm. And I’m good here, thanks. If I ever need anything from you, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Caelen didn’t move, but his eyes sharpened at the dismissal.
“Look, Phoenix—”
“Caelen,” I bit out.
His jaw flexed at that. “I know you care about her. Ellie. It’s obvious.”
The way he said her name made something rise in me. I forced it down.
“You really don’t have a clue how I feel about her,” I said, voice low. “So stop pretending you do.”
Caelen blinked—slow, unreadable. “I’m just saying… she’s been through hell. What happened to her. With Vael—”
I tensed before I could stop myself.
She hadn’t told me everything. Not directly. And Caelen saw it.
The flicker of silence. The gap.
“Oh.” A beat. He looked at me, something like hesitation flickering behind his eyes. “She didn’t tell you?”
He leaned back, like he wasn’t twisting the blade.
“I assumed…” His voice trailed off, then he shrugged like it cost him something. “It doesn’t matter. But still - she’s not someone you can protect from everything.”
I stared at him, jaw tight.
“No,” I said. “But at least I’m not trying to own her.”
Caelen’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Neither am I. I just want to give her something real. Something safe.”
I almost laughed. Sharp. Bitter.
“If you think that’s what she wants, you really are an idiot.”
His jaw ticked. “She doesn’t even know what she wants.”
That did it.
The heat snapped through me—pure, visceral.
“You don’t get to decide that for her.”
My voice dropped. Low. Dangerous.
“She’s had enough people try to cage her in the name of safety. Don’t think for a second she won’t burn yours to the ground too.”
Caelen’s smile twitched. He rose slowly, adjusting his cuffs like he wasn’t about to say something meant to gut me.
“I can see we’re not getting anywhere,” he said calmly. “But for the record? I care about her too. Deeply. And I know she deserves better than what you—what any of you Shades—can offer.”
He met my eyes—cool. Measured. “You know that too. Don’t you?”
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. But my fists curled tight beneath the table.
I stood. “You are so full of shit, Caelen.”
“Am I?”
I stepped toward him, fists clenched. “You don’t even know Elle. You show up after years of silence—after nothing—and now, what? You think you’re in love with her?”
“I always loved her!” Caelen snapped, louder than he meant to.
The words echoed off the library walls. My chest rose and fell. Blood roared in my ears.
“You didn’t even look for her,” I said, low and sharp. “You didn’t fight for her. You let the world believe she was gone. And now you want to play the noble prince?”
Caelen’s face flushed—guilt flickering behind the defiance.
“I was a child, Phoenix.”
“So was she,” I growled. “And she still crawled through hell while you sat in your golden cage and waited for the world to fix itself.”
“Don’t talk like you were there!” he shouted. “You don’t know what I lost!”
“No,” I said. “But I do know what she lost.”
Then came the line. The one I shouldn’t have said—but did. “And you’re damn lucky you don’t have to live with knowing it.”
“Fuck you, Phoenix,” Caelen spat—his voice cracked, stripped bare. “You think you’re so much better—smarter than everyone. Like only you can understand her. Like the rest of us don’t matter because our trauma doesn’t meet your fucking standard.”
“Just get the fuck out of here, Caelen. Go back to your throne room,” I said coldly. “Get the hell out of my face.”
“What are you going to do if I don’t?” he sneered.
“Don’t push me,” I warned, voice like a fuse.
“Maybe you shouldn’t push me,” Caelen snapped back.
Then he shoved me.
Not hard.
But hard enough.
That was it.
My fist hit his jaw like it had been waiting.
He reeled backward into a shelf. Recovered. Charged.
We hit the table. A stack of books crashed to the floor. He caught me in the ribs. I drove my shoulder into his chest.
We weren’t thinking anymore—just fists, fury, years of guilt and silence turned into violence.
The sound of the door slamming open barely registered.
“What the hell—”
Elira.
I froze.
My knuckles were bloodied. My breath came in ragged gasps.
Then her shadows moved—fast, wild. They tore us apart like they’d been waiting. Like they didn’t care who started it.
Caelen hit the wall. I staggered backward, heart pounding.
Elira stood in the doorway, her chest rising and falling, eyes wide with something I couldn’t name.
She stared at us like she didn’t recognize either of us.
“Phoenix!”
I didn’t answer.
Didn’t look at her.
I just turned.
And walked out.
My footsteps hit the corridor like thunder.
And then, a breath later—
Hers.
A moment later, I heard hers behind me.