Chapter Twenty-Nine
ELYSSARA
The haze of smoke mirrors my mind—heavy, oppressive, choking.
I miss the feel of Kael’s body against mine. Is it possible to feel safe in the arms of my ruin?
His scent lingers on my skin—oakmoss, leather, steel, and the unmistakable presence of fiery liquor.
I’m being an asshole. I know I’m pushing him to a point he may not be able to return from—but I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.
My pain needs an outlet, and Kael is it.
I know he’s not telling me everything about what happened that night. He’s holding back. But why? What else could he be hiding from me?
I want to know, but knowing what really happened might mean giving up the blame I’ve shoved at him. And then what will I do with all of this rage?
It took every shred of restraint not to lean into his touch, get lost in his ocean eyes, let his hands grip my hips and remind me who we are together.
It took everything not to fall at his feet and be who we were.
But I can’t look at him. Not without Vessira’s images ambushing my thoughts and dominating my reality.
The woman who existed before Kryntar is not the same one who returned.
So I’ll push him away, until he stays away.
I want to reach for the vice that takes me farthest from here—another’s touch. But Thornewood doesn’t offer the same anonymity as Virellin once did. So I’m left with the flask and Rubi’s voidroot.
I drag the smoke into my lungs like it’ll save me from this. But I know the truth: nothing will.
Because silence is the one thing I can’t stand—the voidroot is easier than memory.
Rubi’s door creaks open, and two figures walk into the thick, oppressive plume I’ve created. I sit up, wiping my sleeve across my face to dry my tears.
Seren and Rubi cut through the smoke.
My stomach sours at the sight of Seren, and her words reverberate through my mind.
Destructive and selfish. That’s what you are. You’re better than this, but you sure as Stars don’t act like it.
I know she’s right. I’m being selfish—I’m not the only one who lost Ronyn. I’m not the only one grieving, but my pain has claws and it thrashes and gouges until it draws blood. Only, I don’t want to draw Seren’s blood. I want to hold her until everything is okay.
I look at her beautiful face—wide, curious eyes of honey-bronze stare back at me, expectant. I search her eyes, trying to find the young girl I’ve practically raised, but staring back at me is a formidable woman. A woman who has embraced her fate in a way that I never have.
I hang my head, ashamed and repentant. “I’m sorry, Seren.
I was angry and unfair, and you didn’t deserve that,” I admit, apology wrapped around my every word.
The words taste like sugar—too sweet and syrupy.
I’ve spoken only violence since the Gateway took me to Kryntar and I feel changed by it.
Like somehow bitterness has stitched itself into the fabric of me.
So I let the words hang in the air. Exposing myself to them.
Because this softness is a balm for my wounds.
She sucks in a sharp breath and folds her arms over her chest. “I’ve made excuses for you, El.
For the pain you’ve lived through, the fate you didn’t choose,” she starts, but her voice isn’t soft in the way I expect.
It’s dignified and emboldened—unfamiliar.
“But there comes a point, where that fate has to answer to you, not the other way around. Everyone here is trying to help you, but your rage stands sentry to your heart. At some point, you’ll have to let someone in, make peace with the past, and honor Ronyn’s death, instead of desecrating his memory with your selfishness.
I loved him, El. He was my family, too.”
I wince at the truth in her words that strikes like a blade against a whetstone.
“I— I—” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“I wasn’t done,” she snaps. “Have you ever once wondered why Kael and Therion called Ronyn ‘brother’? Or the significance of the god metal arrows? Or why Kael didn’t use his shadows? Or have you been too wrapped up in your own pain that you forget others have to live with it, too?”
Her words lash me. Striking out like a leather whip, slashing through my fragile grip on my version of the truth.
Because honestly, no. I hadn’t thought about it at all. I’ve been so suffocated by my own pain, that empathy and understanding have evaded me. If only I could have Ronyn back, maybe I could fucking breathe.
My breaths rasp in and out too fast, and my vision swims. I grip my head, vaulting my eyes closed against the truth.
“El, you need to focus,” Seren’s voice cuts through the fog of my mind. “What can you smell, see and feel? List them,” she commands, voice unfamiliar and firm.
My focus narrows, sifting through the bombardment of images, conjured realities and memories that try to drown me.
And through it all, the truth remains. “It’s all Kael,” I sob.
“He’s everywhere.” The more I lean into my senses, my breath slows, and I loosen the grip of my clenched fists.
“He smells like the jungle and rain. I hear him call me ‘Duskae’. I feel his hands through my hair,” I breathe, almost inaudible.
“And it hurts so fucking much,” I exhale with relief, like the words themselves needed to be spoken. Like they were pulling me under.
Seren looks at me—truly looks at me—furrowed brow dissolved, and tender eyes returned.
“There she is,” she smiles. “El, I don’t know what you went through, but I know the solution isn’t in this,” she says, waving her hand through the haze that still smothers the room.
“It’s in people who desperately want to help you.
It’s in letting yourself feel the truth, not the anger that shrouds it. ”
I wipe my face with my sleeve again, eyes swollen with tears I’ve refused to cry. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really clever?” I say, with a ghost of a smile on my face.
“All the time, actually,” she teases.
“So this means I’m back to drinking brask on my own then?” Rubi quips, and we all huff exhausted, broken, but real laughs.
And a small part of me remembers what it feels like to lean into people.
But the feeling is fleeting—my face falling in a heartbeat.
“He gave me up,” I whisper, and we all know who I mean. And despite losing my best friend, it’s this that shreds my heart.
Rubi steps forward, tousled hair in knots, and potions still dangling from the belt over her skirts.
“I’ve known Kael my entire life, El, and I can assure you, he’s one of the best strategists in the known realms—if he meant to give you up, you’d know.
He got played, they had Nalya at knifepoint, and you were collateral.
It’s politics, not betrayal.” She takes an easy swig from the flask, licking her lips as it burns her throat.
“El, he gave up his magic for you. Is that not penance enough?” she scoffs, shrugging her shoulders indifferently.
He what?
My eyes blow wide with shock. My gaze darts between Seren and Rubi, searching their faces for the truth.
“Explain!” I demand, my heart racing without warning.
“He cut a deal with Death—his magic, in exchange for help in freeing you,” Seren explains, eyes soft.
He tore the very shadows from his bones for me. And I spat on what was left.
My hand flies to my chest, gripping at my heart like I can hold it together with my bare hands. “Why?” I murmur the only words I can think to say.
“Because he loves you! And if you don’t know that by now, you need to start spending more time with Seren—maybe her intelligence will rub off on you,” Rubi rasps between puffs of smoke.
A sob wracks my body. I pull my knees into my chest, burying my head in my knees.
I sob for all that I’ve lost.
All the pain.
All the hurt.
All the anguish.
And all that I’ve found.
“Tell me about the god metal arrows,” I beg, voice hoarse from emotion, and thick with guilt for all the ways I have spewed my pain.
“It’s called zarethite,” Rubi explains. “It was mined in Black Heart Belt—the place we first arrived in through the Gateway—before The Decay. They were mined and forged into weapons—sacred weapons. The weapons were bestowed upon great warriors by the gods themselves,” she says with gravitas that commands me to listen.
“Ronyn had the idea that he could talk Death into making him Aevryn’s first god metal archer. ”
I close my eyes, imagining the way he shared his grand idea. The theatrics, dramatics and silliness that were always threaded into the fabric of everything he did. My heart hurts at the memory of him. Of how much I miss his presence in my life already.
“Well, I guess he did,” I say fondly.
“I guess he did,” Seren agrees.
“Not quite,” Rubi interjects. “That was Kael,” she says, wagging her eyebrows with a knowing smile. “It was part of the deal he cut.”
I bury my head again, desperate to escape.
I’ve been wrong. So fucking wrong.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for not being there while you grieve, too. I’m sorry for escaping when I needed to be here with you. I just… don’t know how to face it all,” I admit, my throat working to stave off the tears.
“I know,” Seren soothes, folding over me with her body, pulling me into her nest of golden hair. “We’ll face it together.”
I lean into her touch, and the warmth of it bleeds into my soul.
I thought survival meant keeping everyone out. But maybe healing means letting them in.
“I’m hungry,” Rubi announces, rubbing her belly in exaggeration. “Teddy went hunting, so it’s a feast tonight.”
Seren looks at me questioningly, and I nod. “I could do with a decent meal,” I admit, and the growl of my hunger punctuates the air at the perfect moment.
I pull on some trousers, and wrap myself in furs, readying for a night by the fire, but I can’t pass the opportunity to tease her. “So, Therion?” I raise my eyebrows, staring Seren down like a protective older sister.
“Fuck off,” she dismisses, swatting my arm, but I don’t miss the smirk that tugs at her lips.
And for the first time since Kryntar, I feel the faintest crack of light through the darkness.
And a piece of myself returns.