Chapter 40 Face the Past
(Even When It Destroys You)
Arabella
The gentle sway of the Sky Serpent told me we were still airborne, though the quality of light filtering through the porthole suggested dawn wasn’t far off. We’d dock at Skyspire today. No stopping at Azroth’s Claw, but Kaz had already promised we’d return there for a real visit.
I’d woken with my arm draped across his chiseled chest, my body spooning his in a reversal of our usual position. He was still deeply asleep, his breathing steady and even, one hand loosely holding mine where it rested over his heart.
It was rare—so wonderfully rare—to wake up with him still beside me. Usually, he was up before dawn, already three schemes deep into his day while I was still trying to remember my own name. But these past two days on the ship, he’d stayed in bed with me.
We still hadn’t fully reconciled after our fight, dancing around each other with careful politeness interspersed with bouts of desperate sex.
The words that needed saying remained lodged in our throats—those three little words neither of us seemed capable of uttering.
But we’d found a kind of truce in the physical—in tangled limbs and shared breath and the way our magic sang when we touched.
I studied him in the pale light. Dark hair spilled across the pillow, longer than I was used to seeing it. It matched the short beard he’d grown during our journey, making him look more like a pirate king than a Dark Lord.
What goes on in that gorgeous, complicated head of yours? Unable to resist, I ran my fingers through his soft hair. My gaze traveled lower, tracing the curve of his shoulder and the muscles that corded beneath his skin.
I pressed a kiss to one of the runes on his back, feeling the slight raised texture against my lips. His skin was warm, almost feverish, but that was normal for him. The bone-deep magic that powered him ran hot.
Pressing my forehead against his back, I breathed him in—winter storms and steel, with that underlying note of clove that was uniquely his.
For a moment, I let myself pretend this was simple.
That we were just a married couple waking up together, with nothing more complicated than breakfast to worry about.
The Heirloom had other ideas.
A sharp pulse of energy shot through my skull, making me wince. It didn’t like when I got too close to him now, as if it sensed something dangerous in our connection.
Fuck off, I thought.
I carefully extracted myself from the bed, and he made a soft sound of protest.
The last two days on the Sky Serpent had been nice. Not the tense, silent affair I’d feared. Our friends had stopped tiptoeing around us, though I’d caught Thorne giving us the side-eye when Kaz and I emerged from our cabin looking thoroughly disheveled.
At least Captain Brecca hadn’t started a betting pool this time.
I dressed quietly, choosing practical leather trousers and a tunic rather than one of my gowns. Griffin had asked me to review his apprentice applications this morning, and knowing him, that would involve at least three explosions and possibly some light maiming. Best to dress accordingly.
As I pulled on my boots, I glanced back at Kazimir one more time. Part of me wanted to crawl back into bed and steal a few more moments of this fragile peace. He’d sprawled across our bed, one arm now flung over the warm spot I’d vacated. A ray of morning sunshine was shining across his torso.
The sight triggered a flutter at the edge of my consciousness like a moth against glass.
Then the world tilted, and I was—
Elsewhere.
The memory potion was working its magic again, dragging me back into the past whether I was ready or not.
Colors bled and re-formed until I stood in a familiar corridor of golden-veined marble and soaring arches.
Sunspire Palace.
I was fourteen. A pretty golden ring on my finger caught the light as I passed tall windows, and I twisted it absently. Mother had given it to me just this morning, pressing it into my palm with one of her sad smiles.
“For my brave girl. It was your grandmother’s.”
I’d promised I would be careful with it, thrilled to have something so beautiful and grown-up. Now I wore it as I wandered the palace halls, supposedly heading for the royal library while Father conducted whatever boring business had brought us here.
But the palace was vast and full of secrets.
Of course, I’d gotten distracted. When had I ever been able to resist exploring where I shouldn’t?
I’d already discovered three hidden passages and a courtyard where the fountains ran with wine instead of water.
If only Sebastian were here—he loved exploring with me.
But he’d gone back to the Academy after his summer break.
I took a turn down a corridor I’d never seen before, drawn by the elaborate tapestries and that particular brand of recklessness that had always gotten me into trouble.
The corridor grew darker as I ventured deeper into the palace’s heart.
Fewer windows here, more shadows. The air here felt charged with a kind of energy that made the hair on my arms stand up.
I rounded a corner and collided with a woman.
“Watch where you’re going,” she snapped, steadying herself against the wall.
The sorceress wasn’t dressed like Auremar’s other mages in their gaudy gold and white. Her robes were gray, shot through with strange red stitching like veins of blood. Her dark hair was pulled back severely from her face, revealing sharp cheekbones and gray eyes.
There was something familiar about her, something I couldn’t quite place. A scent, perhaps, or the cadence of her voice.
“I’m sorry,” I said, dipping into a curtsy as I’d been taught. “I was looking for the library.”
“You’re far from the library, girl.” Her voice was silk over steel, beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
“I got lost,” I lied, lifting my chin. Even at fourteen, I’d never been good at playing the helpless noble girl.
Her eyes narrowed, and I felt magic probe at the edges of my mind. Not the gentle touch of a healer, but something invasive and wrong. I tried to step back, but my feet wouldn’t move.
“Interesting.” She moved closer, and I noticed how the shadows seemed to bend toward her. I caught a whiff of her scent—bitter herbs and something metallic, like old blood. “Lord Evenfall’s daughter, aren’t you? Yes, I can smell the heroic blood on you. Very interesting indeed. I wonder if—”
The memory shattered.
I came back to myself with a cry, my knees buckling. The cabin wall was the only thing keeping me upright as the full horror of recognition crashed over me.
That face. Those robes. I’d seen them again, only days later, on the worst night of my life.
That sorceress was the one who’d killed my mother.
Strong arms wrapped around me before I could fall, and then Kazimir was there, naked and warm from the bed, cradling me against his chest. His dominion magic crackled against my skin, ready to obliterate whatever threat had made me cry out.
“What is it?” His voice was rough with sleep but alert, ready for violence. “Are you hurt?”
I couldn’t speak past the sob building in my throat. This time, I didn’t try to hide the tears that spilled down my cheeks. I pressed my face against his chest and let them come, ugly and raw and unstoppable.
Kazimir didn’t demand answers or try to fix it. He just held me, one hand stroking my hair while the other kept me anchored against him. His shadows wrapped around us both, creating a cocoon of darkness that felt safer than any fortress.
“Memory?” he asked quietly when the worst of the storm had passed.
I nodded against his chest, not trusting my voice yet.
“Your mother?”
Another nod. He made a low sound of understanding, his arms tightening. We stayed like that for long minutes, my tears soaking his chest while he offered the kind of quiet support I’d never expected from the Dark Lord of Skyspire.
Finally, when I could breathe without hitching, I pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “I saw her before. The sorceress who killed my mother. I saw her days earlier, at the palace.”
His expression darkened, shadows literally gathering in his eyes. “Tell me.”
So I did. I told him about wandering where I shouldn’t have, about the strange corridor and the woman in gray robes with red stitching. About the way she’d looked at me like I was a particularly interesting specimen.
Kazimir’s arms tightened around me. “Gray and red,” he repeated, his voice carefully neutral. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. And I was wearing a ring,” I whispered, touching my bare finger where the ring had once sat. “The night she died, I was wearing my mother’s ring. The one she’d just given me.”
Kazimir’s jaw clenched, and I felt his magic pulse with barely controlled fury. But his touch remained gentle as he wiped the tears from my cheeks.
“It’s connected, isn’t it?” My voice cracked on the words I’d been afraid to voice.
“The sorceress saw me that day, and then a few days later she came for me and… my mother tried to stop her. What if”—I had to stop, swallow hard before I could continue—“what if my mother died because I went wandering where I shouldn’t? Because I drew that woman’s attention?”
The question hung between us, heavy with guilt and grief. I searched Kazimir’s face, desperate for him to tell me I was wrong, that it was just coincidence, that a fourteen-year-old girl’s curiosity hadn’t signed her mother’s death warrant.
But Kazimir had never lied to make me feel better, and he didn’t start now.
His silence was answer enough.