Chapter 48 Ashes and Answers #2
“That guy, he was—” Kai’s voice is as broken as his sentences.
“I thought you hid the library memory because you didn’t want us to know.
That your nerves were because you didn’t want us to know about your boyfriend.
That you worried about his safety or…” He scrubs his hands across his face again.
“Tell me you killed him.” His voice is a dark whisper between clenched teeth.
“Tell me you killed them all.” It’s a plea.
My throat is thick, my pulse a frantic, uneven rhythm. Tears burn my eyes as I stare at the broken mug and coffee stains. “How do I keep from showing Lyra these memories and not look like a threat to her?”
“She won’t see them.” Lochlan’s voice is confident. “You’re still healing, and you’ve established a level of familiarity with us—the combination led us to those memories.”
My stomach tightens, doubts curling around my ribs like vines, but before I can voice any of them, Holden glances at the door as he drags a hand through his hair. “We need to make a plan. We’re almost out of time.”
Lochlan’s silver eyes flick to mine, a silent question lingering in them, but I don’t answer—I can’t.
The room is suffocating. Their stares—too heavy. Their presence—too much.
“I need a minute,” I say, already pushing back from my seat.
Kai stands, too, mirroring my movements.
I lift a hand, and he stops.
“Ronan is—” he begins.
“In the East wing. Everett hacked the system and got me a copy of his schedule so I can avoid him.”
“He’s going to be heading this way,” Holden reminds me, fists curled at his sides. “Keep your head up and eyes open.”
I acknowledge him with another brief nod and leave.
The corridor is blessedly empty, but the air is too thin, burning my lungs. My hands are still trembling, my pulse too fast.
I move toward the doors leading outside, needing to feel the sun on my skin, fresh air in my lungs.
I need to feel free.
Even if I’m not.
I make it several hundred feet before I feel him. “Why are you following me, Kai?” I ask, my voice a whisper. I don’t turn to face him, testing the accuracy of the codex.
“Because you shouldn’t be alone right now.” His words carry on the breeze, clear and easy for me to hear. “Not just because your defenses are down, but those kinds of memories aren’t ones to take on by yourself.”
I release a sigh.
For months, I wished someone were with me. Now, I wish for the familiar solitude.
“It’s going to be busy soon. Why don’t we leave? Go to Mysthaven.”
“We have classes.”
The soft sound of his footsteps echoes in my ears. “This is more important.” His voice is right behind me.
“Am I truly choosing which memories to show you?”
A beat passes. “Yes.”
I shake my head, anger and frustration so sharp in my chest it feels like my ribs are going to break. “Why would I show you that?”
“Because you trust us.” His voice is quieter.
I want to argue. Want to lie. But a part of me realizes he may be right.
“Holden excused classes for the day. Let’s go back in there or head to Mysthaven,” he insists.
I know arguing is futile. I’m still too exhausted. Too weak.
We walk in silence. With each step back to the classroom, my heart accelerates. Facing Holden and Lochlan after what they’ve witnessed feels impossible, yet I manage to keep moving forward.
They look up as we step inside. Holden’s shoulders lower as though relieved, while Lochlan pushes his fingers into his hair.
Unease builds like a tide in my chest, the silence stretching past uncomfortable.
“How long were you in there?” Holden’s voice is low.
I don’t pretend not to understand the question. There’s no use, and if I’m being honest, talking about it is strangely tempting after so many weeks of pretending. “Almost eleven months.”
Kai swears. Holden doesn’t react at first, but his movements are slower, almost forced as he closes the book on his desk. “What you said to McGuiness about torture…” He pauses, his fingers resting against the book’s spine.
“Had nothing to do with you guys,” I admit.
A muscle in his jaw feathers. “How many more memories like that are there?”
My throat feels entirely too tight as I force the following words, “I don’t—” My voice catches. I clear my throat, trying to steady myself, but a tear slips down my cheek. “Enough.”
Kai’s fingers curl into fists. “They sent you to jail for defending yourself.” It’s not a question.
“I killed a man.” My voice is barely above a whisper as I admit the words again for the first time in months.
“It was self-defense,” Lochlan growls, “and he was a bastard. Not a man.” His pulse flickers in his neck, racing as fast as my own.
“I’ve hurt others.” The confession is bitter on my tongue. “Killed one and burned others so they weren’t recognizable.”
Lochlan stills.
I wait for him to recoil.
To look at me with disgust and repulsion.
To strangle me with his power.
That muscle in his jaw ticks again as he studies me. “Why are you so afraid right now?”
The question hits me like a fist to the ribs as I struggle to read his expression. “I just told you…” I’m flustered as I search for the right words. “What I’m capable of. What you guys have assumed I’m capable of for months.” I swallow thickly.
Lochlan shakes his head. “You survived,” he says.
The word numbs me as it echoes through my veins and muscles, through that thick shield, and hollow heart.
Survived.
It feels heavy.
Unfamiliar.
Wrong.
Tears sting at my nose and eyes, clog my throat. Slowly, I shake my head as I turn my gaze over his shoulder, unable to look at him as I admit, “I don’t think I did.”
Pieces of myself died. I have no doubts.
I didn’t survive.
I exist.
They don’t look away. Don’t even blink. There’s no accusation. No pity.
They’re just … here.
For a second, I hate all of them for their lack of reaction.
For not being disgusted by me.
“You think you deserved what happened to you.” I can’t tell if Kai’s asking a question or stating a revelation. His voice is flat.
Another traitorous tear slips down my cheek as something in my chest fractures despite calling on that icy numbness that is neither as thick nor as accessible as it was before arriving here.
“That was the first time you used your element?” Lochlan asks.
I nod. “I burned down half the library and woke up shackled to a hospital bed.”
“Your element protected you,” Holden says. “You didn’t have any control.”
I scoff, a sound filled with so much anger and disgust, my icy exterior falls.
Completely. “My element killed a man and sentenced me to jail where I was—” I don’t know why the next admission feels impossible to voice.
Why I still feel the embarrassment and guilt so tight around my throat. Strangling me. “Tortured.”
“Kai’s right,” Holden says. “We need to go to Earth and find whatever we can. Learn what in the hell happened and help you find your parents—your lineage.”
“I don’t want to find them.” My words are fierce.
Holden shares a weighted look with Lochlan that sends unease climbing toward my heart.
Lochlan’s jaw ticks once, then his gaze slams into me—assessing.
“We might have to look into them, but we don’t have to tell you anything that we find,” Kai says, taking a measured step closer to me. “We’ll let you know if we look into them, though. It won’t be a secret.”
Lochlan clears his throat. “Lyra is going to be called to Sylaria. All her meetings will be rescheduled. It should buy us two weeks, possibly longer if Faro calls her in for the trials.”
I don’t ask how he knows this.
“Getting you healed is our first priority,” Lochlan continues, his gaze steely. “If you need time away from Thornhurst, consider it done. In the meantime, we need you to share everything about your life on Earth.”
Holden slides his crystal link into his pocket as he looks at Lochlan. “Are you returning to Mysthaven with us? Is Kandi expecting you?”
“I already sent a message, canceling everything today,” Lochlan says.
I shake my head. “What happened to maintaining appearances?”
“We raised some alarms while in Portelina, and then a few more when you weren’t healing,” Kai says. “Those that we’re worried about paying attention are either indisposed or distracted.”
“It’s irrelevant, regardless. You’ve been triggered,” Lochlan says. “Maintaining appearances will only drain you further. You need to rest.”
I hate that he’s right. Hate that I don’t have the energy to fight.
I follow them out to the parking lot, slip into the far end of the glider, and don’t bother pretending. I slump into the seat and close my eyes.