Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Evelyn
The wood-burning stove in Kade’s cottage warmed the first floor. The fire’s crackle joined the gentle tip-tap beat of snow against the window above the kitchen sink.
Evelyn dug her fingers into the wooden counter, fighting drowsiness, nauseating nerves, and wariness. Maxie weaved under her arms and nuzzled her head and ears into Evelyn’s chin. She gave her familiar a gentle brush down her spine, and Maxie continued her exploration of the kitchen.
Clay mugs and plates lined open shelves, and the baskets once filled with vegetables and food lay empty from their time away.
Seemingly satisfied with her inspection of the space, Maxie assumed her favorite spot on the windowsill, yellow eyes wide and focused on the songbirds pecking at the frozen ground.
Outside, their chirping grew louder, like an alert through the forest. Kade emerged from the tree line ahead, trekking through the snow with parchment bags and parcels in hand.
Bleu trailed behind him, nudging his nose into the largest one.
Kade’s steed emerged victorious, a meaty, crooked carrot lodged between his square teeth.
Evelyn relaxed at the sight of them.
She and Kade had said little since fleeing Nūa and returning to the Drengr Village. In the aftermath of Riven’s attack, the others had encouraged them to stay at Lār. To Evelyn’s relief, Kade had respectfully declined, muttering something about the feeling of home to Eldrick.
The mismatched seating in the main area.
The kitchen with copper and wooden details.
Even the room that smelled distinctly of Kade.
He was her home, but being back here, in his cottage, tucked into the magnificent forest of the Vadon Mountains, Evelyn inhaled where she innately belonged, and exhaled the last shred of grief she had for her failed homecoming.
Circe’s atrocities aside, Evelyn couldn’t shake that this was where she belonged.
Here, with Kade, snow falling, the fire crackling, and the promise of friends and family coming over for a warm, hearty dinner.
Her torn soul beat for it—a promising glimpse of the future they fought for.
The door clicked open as Kade entered the cottage. Maxie darted out the door, joining Bleu in the stable suited for one. The animals played in the snow, their size differences almost comical.
Kade shook flurries from his shoulders and hair, golden eyes widening as he spied Evelyn in the kitchen.
“I thought you’d be resting.” He walked into the kitchen, setting the bags onto the counter and planted a kiss on Evelyn’s temple.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, inspecting the bags. “Did you go grocery shopping?”
Her fated shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “I thought we could have breakfast for dinner.”
Evelyn swallowed, a gentle warmth spreading through her very tried, spent limbs. Goddess, he knew her so well.
“I’d like that.”
Kade tucked a strand of her freshly washed hair behind her ear. “Divide and conquer?”
“Of course.”
The hint of a smile threatened on Evelyn’s lips, but it felt wrong to do so. With Riven’s attack. Circe’s relentlessness. The Blood Curse. If she thought too much on it all, she grew emptier and emptier, the hole in her soul more pronounced.
Instead, she busied herself first with coffee and found comfort in the fact they’d made it out of Nūa. Kade, thank the Goddess, had grounds stored in his cupboards, and some metal contraption that brewed the coffee and squished the grounds downward for a clean, comforting drink.
The clatter of kitchen utensils, the hissing stove, and clanking bowls took over the cottage. Snow quickened outside, and Evelyn and Kade got lost in the peaceful task of cooking a shared meal. Kade whisked up pancakes, and beside him, Evelyn readied a hot iron skillet for bacon.
Soon, both had a steaming cup of coffee in hand and manned their dishes. Closeness buzzed between them, and Evelyn caught Kade staring as he flipped his second pancake.
“I’m ready to discuss it, if you are, Ev,” Kade whispered.
Evelyn fought tears and swallowed. She’d waited for Kade to come to her, and now that he’d opened the door to discuss what had happened in the Nūa Library, her jumbled nerves returned. She removed crispy bacon to cool on a piece of parchment and swallowed.
Evelyn decided fear was a friend of doubt, and she’d not let either foe get in the way of honesty with Kade.
“What did Circe show you?” she whispered.
Kade’s shoulders stiffened, but his focus remained on cooking. “A desolate wasteland—Sorin if we fail.”
Evelyn released a shuddering breath, a false sense of relief settling over her.
“She also showed me you as a young girl.” Kade swallowed, voice thick. He peered down at her. “Did she hurt you, Ev?”
He’d asked Evelyn the same question in the underbelly of Nūa, but she’d not been ready to discuss it. Maybe she never would be. Shame was as oozy and thick as Circe’s wretched hallucinations. But this was Kade. He was her home and heart.
“Yes.”
Kade’s jaw ticked. “For how long?”
Evelyn gripped her coffee mug tighter, leaning against the counter. She focused on the dancing flames inside the wood-burning stove.
“About six months,” she started. “I’ve told you what my tutors were like, but it was Circe who convinced me I was nothing without my flame.
She’s a well-respected scholar, and when she requested to oversee my training, no one objected.
But my flame never came naturally to me.
Sure, I could conjure it, but I had difficulty controlling it as a child.
I was na?ve, impressionable. I worried I’d never amount to being Daughter of the Goddess, and Circe only fueled that belief. ”
The memories had faded, and Evelyn had broken the chains of the tutor’s cruel whisperings, but sometimes they lingered in the back of her mind, like dormant roots she’d never fully dig up.
“What exactly did you see?” she asked, voice brittle.
Kade’s tone turned gentle, cautious. “You were locked away, scared, and your hand . . .”
Evelyn shook her head, blinking back tears. Of course Circe had shown Kade one of her worst memories. All to hurt them both.
She placed her mug on the counter, crossing her arms. “When I failed lessons, she locked me away in a cupboard. She, too, used her hallucination-like magic on me. Showing my coven slaughtered by scáths. Threatening me with what would happen if I failed them.”
Kade’s brows knitted together, anguish dimming the gold in his amber stare. “Ev.”
Now that Evelyn had started, she couldn’t stop, and Kade’s presence was all encouraging. There for her in this.
“One day, she was furious with me and . . . I was seven, not strong enough to fight back, let alone old enough to differentiate what was real and wasn’t.
I believed in what she showed me so fiercely her hallucination became reality.
Two of my fingers snapped. Circe panicked.
She’d scared me into never telling my parents what happened day to day, but broken fingers revealed her cruelty.
She locked me away in my cupboard, trying to find a way out of the mess she’d made when Uzoma found me. ”
Kade turned off the stove and stacked pancakes on two awaiting plates. “Wait, Uzoma knew about this? Did she let it continue?”
Evelyn shook her head, grabbing the plate of food Kade handed to her. Blueberries floated on buttery syrup, and somehow, someway, she still managed an appetite.
“No, Uzoma didn’t know until that day, and from that moment on, she protected me,” Evelyn said, slicing into her first bite.
Kade shook his head, pain darkening his golden eyes. “I don’t understand. If Uzoma knew of Circe’s abuse, how is she on the Council? Once your parents discovered what happened, how did she not face consequences?”
Evelyn shut her eyes, rallying her breath. “My family, no one in my coven knows. You’re the first I’ve ever told.”
A stillness entered the cottage, the first snap of tension, but Kade rallied his shock and softly asked, “Tovi? Blair?”
Evelyn shook her head. “They don’t know.”
“Stars above,” Kade breathed. “You’ve carried this alone for twenty years.”
“Uzoma was there for me.”
A growl rumbled through Kade’s chest. “But she did nothing—”
Evelyn placed her food down and grabbed Kade’s hands, making him look at her. “She protected me in the best way she saw how. Uzoma made a deal with Circe: transition my tutelage under her from thenceforth, no fuss or questions asked, or all of Nūa would learn what she’d done.”
“The latter should’ve been the only option,” Kade said through gritted teeth.
“And what if the Council didn’t care?”
“What do you mean?”
“You witnessed it during the hearing, Kade. To the witches, I am a weapon . . . not Evelyn. They care for my power, not me. I believe Uzoma thought Circe might twist the incident in her favor, or if my parents fought too hard to protect me, they’d lose me.”
“Moons,” Kade hissed. “Uzoma wasn’t only protecting you from Circe, but an unfair future.”
Evelyn nodded. “I’m sorry I never told you. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you; it just never came up, and I know that’s not an excuse, but honestly, I try my best to forget—”
Kade grasped Evelyn’s chin, stilling her words. “Never apologize for your pain, Ev, not to me. I’m always here. In stillness, silence, or to talk.”
“Thank you,” she breathed, wiping tears from her eyes. A lightness spread through Evelyn, like a spring breeze.
Kade pulled Evelyn into a hug. She fell into his chest. Held him back. She closed her eyes. Inhaled his scent. Relished in being together.
“Thank you for breakfast, too. It made this conversation . . . easier.”
“Perhaps that’ll be our thing, then.” Kade offered an assuring smile, making him all that more handsome. “Pancakes with difficult topics.”
“And coffee,” Evelyn said, grabbing back her mug.
Kade laughed. “Right—”
A knock resounded on the door. Both of them winced, knowing full well they couldn’t escape the inevitable on the horizon.
“Evelyn,” Blair called. “It’s me. I . . . I have an idea on how to get your magic back.”
Evelyn and Kade shared a look. Kade mirrored Evelyn’s own surprise—her sister had avoided her, even here in the Drengr Village—but what made her pause was Blair’s tone.
Hesitant and . . .
Uncertain.