Page 26 of A Broken Ember

“My Prince.” Ercan gripped my arm when I went to shift on my balcony. I turned to the man I respected, willing to give him a moment. Just one. He swallowed. “Thank you for sparing Claeg. You are a good man,” he whispered despite us being alone. “You deserve happiness.” He gave me a small smile. My heart cracked with guilt.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” I cycled back to our age-old fight. Ercan sighed, shaking his head.

“I can’t blame you for fighting for others. It’s who you are. Who you’ve always been. You fought for me when nobody else would—not even myself.” His scars grazed my palms as he gripped my hand and looked into my eyes with what I could only describe as unconditional love. “For that and for what you’ve done for my son, I will always thank you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“Ercan…” I rasped, my heart aching with the falseness of his claim. I was a blind coward—not a hero.

He released my hand, nodding toward the Sand Eye. “Go. Be with him. Find balance together.”

I found Claeg shivering in the cave, dying embers next to him. I studied his sleeping form: his jaw was taut, brows narrowed. Another nightmare tormented his sleep. I used a bit of magic to coax life back into the fire and carefully slipped in beside him. I wrapped my arm around him to warm his body, pulling him close to my chest. He shivered and whimpered, unconsciously leaning into me. The action tore at my heart. He was so stubborn at times, even to the detriment of his health. My fingers idly traced symbols on his skin, and eventually he relaxed into my hold. The sun was well above the horizon before he stirred.

“Sivert?” he murmured, yawning. I stilled. Who was this draconis Claeg called for? This wasn’t the first time he had awakened asking for a draconis that wasn’t me. My heart twisted with jealousy. Did he often wake up with draconis in his arms? I bristled at the thought of sharing his body with another. He was mine.

“No, Selected, it is Anastasius,” I answered, brushing his hair to the side. The sun looked so beautiful on his face. He tensed, his eyes flickering open. Our eyes met, and he became the air I breathed. Beautiful. Such brilliant violet eyes under lashes so lush and thick. Stunning. My heart ceased its beating, awaiting his response. Would he be upset that I lay with him? He could be hard to predict. It was a relief when his eyes softened and a lazy grin swept across his face, making him light up like the dawn. He licked his lips, drawing my eyes. At that moment, I could've sworn his mouth was made for mine. I wanted nothing more than to press my mouth to his and explore. There was a spark in his eyes as if he knew exactly what my thoughts were, but he was still healing. So, I pulled away, putting some distance between us. It was hardly any space, but Claeg’s easy grin fell, making the divide feel like a canyon rather than a foot. Suddenly, I was desperate to mend the mistake, but Claeg looked away, the moment lost.

“The babe?” he asked, quickly shifting the mood.

“Crying strong.”

“That’s good.”

I grunted my agreement. There was something unspoken between us, but we left it unsaid. Gone was the levity from before, replaced by awkward silence.

“Eleos?” I murmured.

“Mmm?” he replied. I grabbed the salve in my pocket. I needed to touch him. Needed to assure myself that he was healing and that this distance was temporary.

“Let me see your wounds.” I held out my hands for his palms, and he stiffened. When he nodded, it was sharp and his eyes glistened as if I had struck him.

He sat up, and I knelt before him, taking his hands in mine. He sucked in a breath at my touch. I dressed his hands quickly but tenderly, allowing the salve to soak into the slowly healing wounds of his palms. Despite the repetitiveness of the process, I found it intimate. When I released him, I slowly dragged my eyes up to his. He was studying me closely, making me flush and nibble on my lip. Claeg’s eyes snapped to wear I sucked on my lip. The familiar taste of blood filled my mouth.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

His words startled me. He raised his hand to my chin and ran his thumb along the jagged edge of my ruined lips. I couldn't help but lean into his touch with a groan. I swallowed, my neck flushing with blood. I gave him a guilty smile. He wasn’t the only one who had berated me for my bad habits. Hen had once scolded me for my incessant chewing. Grief flitted through me at the reminder of her.

I forced my eyes to his neck, where the redness that had spread to his chest was gradually receding. I brushed aside his hair, revealing the edge of the mark he bore on his upper spine. Seeming to sense my intentions, Claeg turned around, giving me access to the brand on his neck. The flesh wasn’t leaking fluid anymore, which was a small mercy. Under the bubbled skin I could still make out the remnants of the crescent tattoo beneath the brand. For the first time, I took a moment to examine it. I knew the mark represented the Circulus’ revered Circle. It wasn’t complete, though, just a delicate crescent, like a moon. Beautiful, really. My fingers traced the mark, ignoring the crude line burned through it.

Claeg hissed, drawing my attention back to my task. I quickly finished dabbing the salve onto the wound. When I was finished, I dropped my hands.

“Thank you,” Claeg murmured, meeting my eyes. His were filled with a pain I had never experienced.

“Your gratitude isn’t needed, Selected,” I whispered and pressed a kiss to his forehead before wandering out of the cave with Claeg trailing close behind me.

Chapter 23: Claeg

My guard was slipping. With each look, I fell a little more for his easy smiles and bright eyes. Despite our disagreement about my healing, the Ruptor craved him. But he had drawn a clear boundary, and I would respect that even though it killed me to refrain from uniting our bodies the way the Ruptor wanted to.

We explored the canyon for days. I admired him as he showed me every little nook and hiding spot within the stronghold. It didn’t even occur to me the power he was offering until one of the last nights before the trial. We sat across from each other over a fire. The embers twinkled a deep blue, the coals still hot despite the dwindling light. Out in the open desert, there was nothing but sand dunes for ages. The prince had created the fire from wood of unknown origin, summoning it with a foreign power that I didn’t understand. He used it often, twisting his fingers in beautiful patterns that entranced me. Sometimes he would whisper in a tongue I didn’t understand. I frowned as he did that now, the words seeming to coax life into the fire. When I opened my mouth to question him about it, he spoke first.

“Tell me about the Circulus.”

The request startled me, and my jaw snapped shut. I clenched my fists, thinking about everything I had left behind. I thought of Clotho, who had broken my Circle. I thought about Thana and the truth she had kept from the clan. I thought about my last few moments with Sivert. The betrayal and hurt in his voice.

“What do you want to know?” I asked, willing to indulge his muse.

“Tell me about your parents. What were they like?”

I had to suppress a wince. The picture of Tamela and Ercan filled my mind. My mother and her bravery in facing the completion of her Circle. And then Ercan, the man who’d fought his own clan, who gave up his own Circle for love. Tamela had still been weak. She had still died, and he had dishonored her. Why out of everything he could have asked, did he have to ask that? I almost didn’t answer, but then I felt that familiar pulling sensation. The one that threatened to reveal my purpose. Already Anastasius had plucked roots out of the ground, discovering things about me I had intended to keep hidden.

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