Chapter 67 - He Stole Me
The smell of burned flesh lingered in the healing wing long after the first rush of urgency had settled.
Athena knelt beside the wolf with the worst of the mage burns, gently applying another layer of salve. The skin was blistered in strange, curling patterns - not random.
Deliberate.
She leaned closer.
Her breath slowed.
Her hand stilled.
She had seen this before.
Not here.
Not recently.
Long ago.
Her vision blurred at the edges.
The room faded.
And suddenly-
Heat.
Smoke.
Screams.
She wasn't kneeling anymore.
She was small.
Being lifted off the ground.
Carried.
Her tiny fists pounding against someone's chest as flames lit the sky behind them.
Her father's voice roaring somewhere in the distance.
"Get her away from him!"
Him.
A man's face came into view.
Sharp.
Calm.
Unbothered by the chaos around them.
Eyes that watched the fire like it was part of a plan.
Her stomach dropped.
She knew that face.
She knew it too well.
Victor Whitlock.
Her breath came back in a sharp gasp as the present snapped into place.
The cloth slipped from her hand.
Elara touched her shoulder. "Athena?"
She was staring at the burn again.
But she wasn't seeing it.
"He didn't save me," she whispered.
Silas stepped forward from the doorway immediately.
"What?"
Her eyes lifted to his, wide with dawning horror.
"He didn't save me..."
Her voice broke.
"He stole me."
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Deadly.
Athena's hand trembled as she pointed weakly to the burn.
"This... this is the same magic. The same fire. I saw it that night."
Her breathing became uneven.
"My father wasn't giving me to him."
Tears burned in her eyes.
"He was trying to keep me away from him."