CHAPTER THIRTY
Verena
ELVA’S FOOTSTEPS DRIFTED ACROSS THE TENT as she moved to where I sat on the floor. Ice kissed my knuckles where she pressed the thin fabric into the swell of my hand, her hush silencing my hiss from the cold shock.
“Oh!” Elva blinked, like something had just caught up to her. “I almost forgot.” She turned, rifling through a pack on the floor before pulling something free.
A dagger. My dagger.
The ruby at its hilt caught the light as she held it out, and for a second, I swore it glowed.
“How did you get this back?” I asked her quietly.
“I think Wells found it. He was at Gemma’s cottage when Duke and Rook came looking for you.
He gave it to me when we got here. Said I should keep it since you…
” Her voice faltered and she swallowed, moving past it with a small, uneven breath as she passed the dagger into my hand.
“Anyway, we both know I’m not the weapon type. So please, I beg you, take it back.”
My fingers closed around the hilt. And while the world didn’t necessarily shift, something inside of me did.
The citrus scent of her skin coasted over me as she motioned for me to turn, pulling my head into her lap. It was unfamiliar, the way she swept strands behind my ears, combing through them with gentle fingers.
It had always been the other way around in Csolenia.
My eyes caught the pale ink drawn on her hand, still beautiful despite the dirt that coated it now. I wondered if the heir mark felt the same way mine did—like a prison. A fate she hadn’t chosen, didn’t desire.
She told me it had been seven days since Gemma was murdered and Callum and I were thrown into that cell. Only days…
The scars on my back, the ones hacked into my spine, I was sure those had taken months to become permanent. I clutched the dagger to my chest, grip tightening instinctively.
Sweetness still coated my throat as I swallowed, Ronan’s blood haunting me, decadent and damn near addictive. My tongue shot out, sweeping over my bottom lip.
Elva bonked me lightly with the comb in her hand, “Did you hear me?”
“Ow.” I left the dagger laying against me and rubbed the tender spot on my scalp. “What did you say?”
She asked again, “Did you know?”
“Know what?”
A quiet, delicate tsk slipped out, annoyance breaking from her poise. “Callum told me the Angel was the one who found the revolutionists at the cottage. Did you know?”
Her fingers pressed to my temples, circling slowly before diving back into my hair. I fought to stay awake, for a princess who's been doted on her entire life, she sure knew how to spoil others.
“Did I know an Angel was alive in Selvarra or did I know how he found them?”
She shrugged. “Both, I guess. Though, no one knew he was an Angel. I’m not even sure how Obrann found out. But Callum showed him the cottage when he was in his mind in the throne room.”
The comb ripped through a knot and my hand shot back, grabbing the hair that had surely been ripped out. “Ow.”
“Sorry,” she chuckled, twirling a golden lock around her finger before motioning me back into place.
Reluctantly, I complied. “How did Callum know he could trust Killian?”
This time, Elva’s strokes remained gentle as she sectioned off my hair. “They’ve met before,” she said, brows knitting. “He didn’t tell you?”
My stomach turned.
I’d forgiven Callum for not telling me about the dragons.
He was protecting my identity, protecting my life.
That had been necessary. But another secret kept from me?
How many more had there already been? Everyone we’d encountered, Callum already knew, while I was blindsided every damn time. Even Elva had known.
Her hands were gingerly finishing up the braid when she broke the silence. “Why did you attack the dragon prince?”
The cloth on my knuckles slid off as I sprung up from her lap, the ice within it already melting. Water sloshed free, spreading across the ground in uneven streaks. “He killed my snake.” I didn’t realize I’d angled the dagger in my grip until I felt the point pressing into my palm.
Elva’s fingers stilled, dropping my braid. “That’s him?”
I dragged in a steady breath, forcing it to even out before tucking the dagger into the hem of my pants. Close. Where it belonged.
“Yes.”
I don’t know why it didn’t feel necessary to tell Elva who, exactly, had managed to destroy the unkillable at the time. Perhaps I thought it would give Ronan more power, if everyone had known. Or maybe I just expected Callum to tell her.
“Hm…” She stood, straightening her dress.
I jumped up, closing the distance as she turned. “What, why are you making that sound?”
Holding up a shard of glass, she inspected her reflection, wiping a speck of dirt from her face. She dropped it to her hip, shrugging. “I’d forgive him.”
My arms shot out. “You’d forgive anything, Elva. Even when it’s you suffering.”
She placed the glass on the table, arms crossing in front of her chest. “That’s not true. I’m just saying—”
“What?” My hands dropped hard against my thighs.
“Because he’s handsome and strong, I should forgive him, trust him?
He’s going to save me, save us all?” She shrunk from the fury on my face.
“This isn’t a fairytale, Elvira. He’s not climbing our tower.
This is real. You can’t just trust everyone who smiles at you.
You can’t just trust that everyone doesn’t want you dead. ”
I knew the voice ripping from me was not my own. The darkness was more than awake now; it had stolen my tongue this time.
Her lips pursed, head shaking in disagreement.
“That’s not at all what I was saying, actually.
” But it didn’t matter, she was already stepping around me, toward the tent door.
With her hand on the flap, she glanced back.
“I’m saying he’s here. That he made a choice that hurt you before he knew you.
But now he’s here and everyone deserves a second chance.
You’d wish the same for yourself.” She nodded to the viper inked across my skin. “You’ve been given the same.”
A muscle twitched in my jaw. “So Obrann and Perseus, they’d deserve forgiveness and a second chance as well?”
Red rimmed her eyes as her mouth thinned, a flush creeping up her neck where she clutched the pendant.
Too far, Verena.
I’ve wanted Elva to find her bite, but instead, I’ve been backing her slowly into a corner where she never even grew her fangs.
“Feeling all this—” She waved her arms around me. “This emotion and vulnerability, it means you’re alive. Not weak. Not unworthy. But living. Something I haven’t had the chance to do. So I’ll forgive,” she spoke gently. “If it means I can move forward. If I can finally prevail.”
A single tear fell before she turned and left.
My spine stiffened as I approached Ronan where he sat perched against the base of a tree. His knees were bent, arms hanging loosely over them as he used an arrowhead to chip away at a chunk of bark in his hand.
The arrowhead.
His fingers moved like he knew it well, as if versed in its edge. They stilled as I stepped closer, though he ignored my presence.
The armor was gone, replaced with a black tunic unbuttoned at the throat. Leaving the bruised bite marks evident. Not fully healed, but no dark sickly veins.
A good sign.
I cleared my throat when the space between us stayed muted.
“Viper,” he said at last. “Come to claw my eyes out next?”
How could I when they hadn’t even looked at me?
“I’m making sure I didn’t poison you.” Feigning concern I said, “It would be awfully annoying to have the dragons hunting me too.”
The bite was there, though beneath it all I hadn’t meant to attack him so viciously in front of everyone. But seeing him again had rattled the darkness inside me.
He hadn’t just taken my snake from me, he’d taken it from the Viper. And it too, sought revenge.
A smile brushed his lips as his fingers traced the arrowhead. Barely, he tilted his head, baring more of his neck still without looking my way. “No poison. All good.” Curls swayed against his forehead as he straightened.
My fingers twitched as I pictured myself pulling one taut, wondering if it would coil back into the perfect spiral as it snapped into place.
No, bad Verena. Picture his blood spilling the same color as them when you succeed at poisoning him next time.
“Wonderful.” I turned to leave, his lack of seriousness irritating me.
“Viper—”
Huffing, I paused, turning to face him.
I was met with eyes that caught not only the light, but me. As if the brilliance pouring out flowed into my own.
He held up the arrowhead. “My token.” A real grin broke wide. “For surviving your wrath.”
A smile threatened, tugging at the corner of my mouth before I could stop it. “That was hardly my wrath.”
Looking down, I studied the carved lines he’d dragged into the dirt with the tip of the arrow. Familiar patterns and shapes. Though none of them meant much to me.
“Why are you even here?” I couldn’t help myself; the questions gnawed at me hopelessly. “Why help us?”
He didn’t answer right away, just stared at the world below, shoulders rising and falling like he’d been carrying the same question too long.
When he finally spoke, it was a low murmur, barely making it past his lips. “Call it...self-preservation.”
Somewhere above, an owl called low as Ronan pushed to his feet, dusting the dirt from his palms. Leaving the arrowhead on the ground, he strode toward me, closing the space between us one measured move at a time.
When he was finally only a few steps away, he said, “Your curse doesn’t scare me, you know.”
There was that molten, predatory murmur.
My eyes tore from where they leveled on his exposed chest when the harsh winter bite was suddenly nowhere to be felt. “Am I supposed to be insulted?”
He snickered. “Relieved, maybe.” Another step closer. “You’re surrounded by those who know you well enough not to fear you. And now, strong enough to kill you if needed.”
My gaze rolled high, hands flying up in feigned terror. “Oh, so daunting,” I said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well—” I jabbed a finger into his stoned chest. “I’m not scared of you either.”
Another pace closer, his face an inch from mine. My fists itched at the urge to punch him in the throat.
“Of course you’re not,” he muttered, slanting his head to the side. “A warning though, Viper.”
Canines flashed, cinnamon heat imprinting between us. I inhaled, but not too deeply.
“I may not hold grudges, but I remember everything. That was strike two. You attack me again, unprovoked, and that monster inside your head won’t be the deadliest thing tearing you apart.”
The flush on my face betrayed me, but I leaned in anyway, fingers brushing the gold chain at his neck. The links were rough, like they’ve been forged to cut as much as bind. He didn’t waver at the touch.
“Unlike you,” I whispered. “I do hold grudges. And like you, I do not forget.”
His nostrils flared as I tucked the chain back beneath his shirt, patting the hard pane of his chest. The golden flecks in his eyes sparkled, and for a moment I was drowning.
“You took something from me,” I reminded him. “And I am owed. So—” My tongue clicked against my teeth. “That won’t be the last time I throw a dagger at your face. Stay wary, prince.”
I stepped away, forcing my eyes off him, off the way my body didn’t feel repulsed by his closeness, but too drawn.
“Oh—” I yelled back over my shoulder. “And tell Elysian to change shifts every once and awhile. The owl’s becoming obvious.”
His laughter followed me, sultry and rich, and I almost let myself drown in that too.