Chapter 41
Ashley
Before I could take her hand and her life,
I had to be worthy of both,
Last week, Aiden sat across from me in our uncle’s chariot.
His brown tunic was gorgeous against his golden skin.
It hugged his body, showing off the muscles across his arms and chest. For the first time, I realised how handsome he is.
Not in the heart-melting way like Kaed or Nyk.
He’s got a sharpness to him. He caught me staring and gave a big blink and a smile that looked almost painful.
I didn’t want to return it but I’m not wicked.
So, I did. Eira looked stunning. I hadn’t seen her out of pyjamas or uniform before that, but with her hair flowing and dress glowing against her dark skin, I see what all the fuss is about.
Seeing her stirred something in me, not jealousy per se, but a longing.
To feel beautiful again. To be myself, or at least, the version of me that’s trying to break through my cycles.
The old, clumsy girl who pitied herself and dodged responsibility is currently packing her bags.
Slowly and reluctantly, but still packing.
Dancing with Kaed was nice. Very nice, actually.
I wonder if it’s the bond trying to ignite.
Sometimes I catch myself staring at his soft lips and have to stop myself before I lean in to kiss him.
I don’t want to start that process, at all.
At one point, I was twirled into Nyk’s arms as we all swapped partners.
That was nice too, even if he kept glancing over my shoulder, his blazing eyes wandering over to Eira and Aiden.
I smacked his chest lightly. “The chosen one is in front of you, and you’re looking over there?
” He laughed loudly. “Sorry, Saviour. It won’t happen again.
” Then I was spun back into Kaed’s solid grip, and I let myself melt into him, just for a while.
Aiden’s words from that day have been playing on my mind a little.
Maybe he’s right, and I am too self-absorbed.
Then came the news about Theron’s execution date.
I’ve wrestled with his choices, trying to work out if doing something bad for what you think is a worthy cause ever balances out.
And yeah, every time I think of what Kaed went through, my blood lights up.
But in the end, we’re all fighting for the same thing; the rebels are just misguided.
And why should Theron care about my life?
Greater good and all that. The one time I said as much to Kaed over breakfast, I got scolded like a toddler and overheard him muttering promises to skin Theron alive.
I sit on the edge of the bath, my fingers trailing through the warm water that sloshes at my feet.
The tears and memories had come, but less than before.
Progress, I suppose. I try to strip off my top, leggings, and socks, which I’m pretty sure are now embedded in my skin, but my arms won’t do it.
So, I sit there, lightly splashing, watching the ripples.
When I finally come out, I smile down at my clean, wet feet and the plate of fire grapes Cook left for me.
I pop three into my mouth, savouring the burst of sweet and spicy juice.
I can’t help but think this would make such a good drink.
Speaking of drinks. My uncle came and personally took the bottle I charmed off one of the vendors.
I’m pretty sure my brother snitched. My uncle asked if I stole it, and I said no.
Apparently, using my title to get stuff is basically the same thing.
But if I’m expected to save an entire civilisation, the least they could offer is compensation.
He said it would probably make me sick anyway, and that I should be thanking my brother instead of threatening to punch him in his throat.
I can’t believe I got told off at thirty-one years old.
The towel tickles my toes, and I revel in my day off while looking out into the pit.
Every morning before my training, the Captain and Lieutenants train with their soldiers.
Kaed is hypnotic. He uses his weird sword like it’s an extension of his hand, facing off against four, five, sometimes nine Volker at once.
He sports a cocky, dimpled smile the whole time, leaving them panting and disarmed.
Yesterday, Eira had been explaining the mechanics of a new axe to him, his freshly buzzed hair was gorgeous, the simple black of his fitted jacket and trousers revealed toned, firm muscles I didn’t even know existed.
Around here, beauty is common, but this male and his smouldering, honey-glazed eyes are something else entirely.
God, where is Raph when I need him? Somehow, the day has slipped away from me.
I’m lost in my thoughts, reading a purring history book, Glory of the Below, that my uncle had brought me when he took my fun away.
An awful swap if you ask me, but it’s pretty good.
It’s an account about the first few years in Sheyole, how the leaders of Ember Court first fell in love with the land.
Then, something catches my eye. An angry shadow hurries past my window.
It’s none of your business, Ashley. Keep reading.
But the gnawing sensation only grows. Nosiness and boredom for the win.
Slipping out of my bungalow, I follow the shadow towards an old, wooden shed on the outskirts of the grounds.
The voices are coming from behind it, well out of earshot from anyone else. I stop short, straining to hear.
“Sorry, the meeting ran over. But I meant what I said before, he’s not what he seems, Eira. You must be more careful,” a desperate familiar voice.
“You’re so paranoid. I’ve known him my whole life,” she snaps. “We could be fucking right now, but instead we’re here arguing about your psychotic theories.”
My stomach twists. I probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping on my friends, but I crouch lower behind the bush anyway, wincing as my thighs burn from yesterday’s squats.
“Firstly,” Nyk says, “believe it or not, I have feelings, so watch your tone with me like I do with you. Secondly—”
“I know you have feelings.” Eira hisses. “For me, apparently. And you’re letting them get in the way. That’s all this is. Get over it and stop being so damn jealous, I’m so sick of jealous males.”
“Of course I’m jealous.” Somehow, even pissed off, he’s got the kind of tone that belongs in a bedtime story. “But, more than that, I feel sad for you. You chain yourself to your guilt. How will you ever build a future when it consumes you so?”
“Excuse me?” She nearly shouts before catching herself.
“You have no right to talk to me about guilt. Clearly, you don’t know what it’s like to live with something like this.
You’re not even capable of feeling it. Have you told Ashley yet?
That Kaed kissed her and the bond is already ignited?
Have you told the King? No. You haven’t.
Do you feel guilty about that, Nykholas? ”
My hand flies to my mouth.
“Have you told Aiden?”
“That’s your fucking response?” She spits. “I gave you time to tell her, that time’s nearly up. If you don’t tell her soon, I will. She’s my friend, and I hate that you’ve put me in this position.” Well, at least I have one person in this god-forsaken place looking out for me.
“Eira—!” But her footsteps are already crunching sharply over gravel as they fade into the dark.
“Your friend might be oblivious to what’s right in front of her. But I’m not.” Shit. Heat creeps up my neck as I peer out at him from behind my little hiding place. He tilts his head slightly. His white waves almost glowing in the night.
“Will you let me explain?”
He holds out an arm for me to take but I walk straight past him, jaw clenched, trying to find my bearings. Once again, I’m reminded that I am a key. A pawn. That my whole life is a fucking game to these people.
He catches my front door before it slams on him and closes it quietly. “You died when your head hit the wall during the rescue,” he says. “As the haze started wearing off, he kissed you in an attempt to bring you back.”
With my back to him, I close my eyes, sifting through my memories of that moment. Vague images of my dad reaching for me and the feeling of complete and utter peace engulf me. Does any part of my fucking life, my body, belong to me?
“Right then,” he goes on, “I made a decision, as acting Captain, not to tell you right away. I didn’t want to overwhelm you. And coming back from the dead, there can be complications.”
“Fuck your complications.” My voice trembles, mirroring the shaking in my lip. “The bond is ignited, and you all knew?”
“Yes. But it brings no harm to you. The effect is solely on his side, and he is paying for what he did, trust me.”
I huff, stalking towards him. “No harm to me? Not only was I kissed against my will, Nyk. Pulled from the peace of death to suffer and die again. I am now bound to someone for the rest of my life.”
“And I am sure that is a conversation you can have with Kae. But I must ask you, let me be the one to tell the King when I judge it right,” he says. “Let it stay between us, for now.”
“Why?” I demand. “Convince me.”
“Well,” he rubs the back of his neck, ‘firstly, you died as a result of my actions, and I don’t want your brother finding out.
For various reasons. Though mainly, it’s for your own safety.
The territory leaders, even fae in the palace, knowing you are halfway to the bond could reignite unrest. It could be used to nullify the treaty, which was only completed yesterday.
They might say your uncle was withholding information again.
” Another civil war. I watched them come out of the war room with Eira.
The Cinder Cliffs leaders looked like a bunch of kid librarians, and the Ashen Reach ones like they escaped from a carnival fair.
When she told me those two had a powerful alliance, I nearly choked.
I couldn’t imagine either group taking the other seriously.
I felt a wave of anger towards the Cinder leaders.
They could have just released the information of the ritual and stopped it all from happening, but they refused, for what?
So they could be the cleverest and the smartest?
And now, they want me to come and get the information myself?
I don’t know what the hesitation is; I don’t know if it’s solely anger.
I can’t imagine knowing I can help someone but flat-out refusing to.
Though images of the security guard I set on fire run through my mind. But that’s different. Right?
“I need to think about it.” I stare at the floor.
There’s no excuse not to tell me. None at all.
I’ve spent so much time with them over the last couple of months; there were countless opportunities.
If they didn’t want me to share that information with the King yet, then I don’t think I would have.
I thought we were building trust. Friendship. Clearly, I was wrong.
“I understand. Know that I truly am sorry.” He thumps his chest and bows.
The door closes silently behind him. I pace my god-forsaken bungalow that smells like fresh sheets and betrayal, trying to make sense of this feeling.
My lifeless body was kissed. Yes, I was brought back to life, but did it have to be a secret?
The bond is ignited, and I had no say in how or when it began.
It makes my skin crawl. Nyk is sorry, as he should be, but sorry doesn’t put the choice back in my hands.
I sink into my desk chair and think about the butterflies I feel in training.
When Kaed tackles me to the ground or scoops me up to throw me into the air, teaching me how to land.
Is it all because of this bond? How do I know where that ends and my heart begins?
How do I know if his kindness, his gentleness, is because he thinks I deserve it?
Eventually, exhaustion wins, and I lay my head on my arms and fall asleep at my desk, replaying every single interaction between us.
Every late-night conversation on my bungalow stairs, every time he could have told me he took something from me and didn’t.