Chapter 43
ANNA
For six days, Anna had been avoiding public areas—not just for fear of seeing David Berkeley, but also because the pain in her chest had only sharpened since he’d severed ties with her.
It was as if a knife had burrowed in her heart.
Any motion jostled it, cascading pain through her nervous system like a waterfall.
She’d known this magic was dangerous, but she hadn’t truly considered how dangerous it could be to her.
The physicality of her emotions brought the pain into sharp relief, and her infinite capacity to feel it was like screaming into an echo chamber—waves and waves that never ended.
She’d thought she understood the pain of heartbreak. She’d felt it in others, after all.
But this was something different.
This was Morgan’s magic, slicing her to pieces.
She hadn’t returned to training. She hadn’t done much of anything. Maddy tried to help, but there was little she could do other than curse David into fiery torment. Her maledictions proved entertaining, if not effective.
Through Maddy, she’d heard that Sean and his usual exploration party had planned another trip into Viterra yesterday, but Anna thought nothing of it.
They’d been in and out of the mortal world for weeks, and he always returned to tell her all about it.
But when Maddy burst into their suite, sweaty from training, her emotions a whirl of devastation, Anna sat upright on the chaise she’d been sprawled across.
“Kywyn is dead,” she said, then pressed a hand over her mouth.
Anna sucked in a breath. “What?”
“They—they were attacked by Indies yesterday, and…he’s dead.”
“No. That can’t be. They had Isobel!”
“I know,” Maddy whispered. She shuffled to a nearby chair and sank into it. “They suspended training early. There’s going to be a pyre for the fallen tonight.”
Anna’s heart lurched. “The fallen? They had more casualties?” Her mind’s eye threw out an image of David bleeding to death, and she flinched away from it, wishing she didn’t still care so much about his fate.
She wanted to rip this love from her chest and forget it had ever happened.
Maddy’s gaze softened as she peered at Anna. “A couple other pixies were killed, too. Everyone else is fine.”
She doubted they were fine. Sean had lost his father yesterday. She remembered the way his voice had roughened when he spoke of his mother, how his emotions had brightened when he spoke of Kywyn and the new connection they’d formed.
“I need to see him,” Anna said, standing.
Maddy’s head tilted. “See…him?”
“Sean,” she replied. “I need to see him.”
“Anna,” her friend said, “slow down. He just lost his father. Shouldn’t he be with—”
“I have to see him.” She couldn’t account for the sudden pull, but it was undeniable.
“Okay…” Maddy’s confusion was clear on her face.
“He needs his friends,” Anna said, trying to explain away her urgency.
Maddy’s mouth turned down into a frown. “Alright. Just…don’t be surprised if you’re turned away.”
Anna’s hair was unkempt and clothes wrinkled, but she didn’t even consider wasting time to freshen herself.
Desperation had taken hold of her, an irresistible longing to be at his side in this time of need.
Maddy called her name as she rushed out the door.
Anna ignored it. She took long, quick strides to the Sovereign Suite, barely restraining herself from running.
When the brownie attendant saw her, she let forth a somber smile and rang the bell to enter, though she didn’t wait for anyone inside to answer. “Go on in,” she said, swinging the door open. “They could use a friendly face.”
Anna nodded and dipped inside, broken heart sinking as she realized she’d likely come face-to-face with David.
That didn’t matter.
She wasn’t there for him. She was there for Sean, the man who’d walked her through the fallout from that strange vision, step by painful step.
Assembling all shreds of bravery left within, she marched into the suite and called his name.
No one answered, but a noise from the back sitting room—their favorite—drew her that way.
Sean appeared in the doorway, unsmiling, his black waves falling into his face.
He propped his shoulder against the jamb and crossed his arms in a move that reminded her flagrantly of David.
The sight of him eased something inside, like a puzzle piece clicking into place.
“Hey there, pixie girl,” he said, his voice ragged, plagued with exhaustion.
Pixie girl.
Anna’s stomach fell, but she soldiered on. “I just heard. I—I’m so sorry, Sean.”
His mouth curved, but Anna wouldn’t call it a smile. It was a mask. His every emotion was coated in a thin layer of ice. “It seems I am destined to remain an orphan.” His tone grew bitter when he added, “Because what hero would be complete without a tragic past?”
She drew closer, captured by his gaze.
“If you hadn’t insisted we go into Viterra,” came Isobel’s voice from inside the sitting room, “then none of this would have happened.”
Sean’s blue eyes fluttered closed, like he was gathering strength, but Anna scowled. “Are you assigning guilt?” she asked, quiet enough that she didn’t think Isobel would hear it.
“Of course I am,” Bel replied, squeezing past Sean in the doorway. She looked at Anna, taking in her messy hair and rumpled clothes with an air of slight disgust. “It’s time he learn that going into Viterra is a needless risk.”
Sean said nothing, though his jaw clenched.
Isobel huffed and strode away. After a moment, a door slammed somewhere in the vicinity of her bedroom. Anna lifted her brows at Sean.
“Would you like to sit down?” he asked, ignoring the whole thing. He backed away to let her inside.
To her surprise, the room was otherwise unoccupied, and Anna sighed with relief. She settled into the comfiest chair while he took the one beside her. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.
His acrid laugh was more than enough answer, but he said, “Being here is plenty.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The ice around his emotions grew even thicker, and she wanted to reach out, offer a commiserating hand or a supportive hug, but she couldn’t. He shook his head, his face so blank, emotions so frozen that she couldn’t help but see David in him.
She whispered his name, and his eyes shot to her, a confused notch between his brows.
“Your emotions feel like icicles,” she said.
“Do they?” His blue eyes darkened, but his gaze remained steady on hers. “What is that like, to feel emotions that way?”
Anna laughed, though she was tempted to cry. “Most of the time it’s manageable. Sometimes it’s misery.”
His expression turned contemplative. “Tell me how it would feel if I could sense your emotions the way you do.”
Her lips parted as the surprise hit. Against her will, the truth spilled out. “Right now? It would feel…like a knife.”
His expression didn’t change, and if she didn’t know better, she would think she was looking into green eyes instead of blue. His David vibes practically reverberated against her skin. “Explain it,” he said. “Tell me what he did.”
“What he…did?”
“Yes. Will you tell me?”
Heat prickled over her cheeks. “He—he broke my heart.”
She registered no astonishment, no disbelief. He already knew, and she wondered if he was searching for a specific answer.
“Tell me how it feels to you,” he said. “How strong is it?”
“I—I guess I feel like I’m…shattered?” she whispered, compelled to give him what he wanted despite not understanding why he wanted to know. “Like my heart has been broken inside my chest, and it’s in so many pieces I don’t think it will ever go back together the same way.”
He stared, intense and unblinking.
Why did he care? In the midst of his grief and sorrow, why did he suddenly want to discuss…this?
“But it’s nothing,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. What you’re going through—”
“It’s not nothing,” he interrupted. “And it does matter.”
She drew in an unsteady breath.
“You’re supposed to join the Honor Guard soon, right?” he asked.
“I—” She released a small laugh, bewildered by the wild deviations in conversation. “Yes. I’ve almost reached my five years.”
His breathing had deepened, and the grief in his core was suddenly punctured with anxiety. “And then you’ll be sent into Viterra.”
“That’s the plan, isn’t it?” She leaned closer, trying to understand the direction of his thoughts. “Aren’t you in charge of all this now?”
He sat back, and his gaze finally dropped, landing on her knees. “I am.” The anxiety faded once more into grief, and he threw his head back to rest against the chair cushion. “That’s true. Small blessings.”
Bemused, Anna wondered if the stress was messing with his mind. What was he getting at with these questions?
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He did nothing other than laugh—a dark and tragic sort of chuckle that made every hair on her body stand at attention.
“I think you need a hug,” she said.
He smiled resentfully at the ceiling. “You think?”
“Yes.”
“You willing?”
She hesitated. As much as she wanted to offer comfort, she knew exactly what would happen if her skin came into contact with his.
His head tilted her way. “I didn’t think so. Don’t worry. I’m a big boy. I’ll be fine.”
She nodded, still fighting the temptation to touch him.
“Will you?” he asked.
Sudden tears stung Anna’s eyes, and she had to look away as she handed him her most vulnerable truth. “I don’t know.”
“You will,” he said with utter conviction. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Later that night, after a bath and set of fresh clothes, Anna headed down to Kywyn’s wake with Maddy.
The pyres for the fallen had been built on the sacred lands west of the Tree, where the lavanié temples to the Great Mother had been erected.
Acolytes trekked here to commune with the Great Mother, but Anna had never been religious.
She only spent time in this area of their lands when they were returning a soul to the Light.