Page 40 of Tarnished Embers

“I know, Sugar, and she will apologise for that, won’t you, Odette?” Prince’s voice is deadly calm, and it helps to quieten the anger inside me, enough so that I can think clearly again.

She sniffles, twisting to face me, but is still much too close to Cas for my liking. To be fair to him, he lets go of her the moment she turns, but he still looks like he’s ready to haul her back if she tries anything again.

She blinks, and I notice that there’s barely a trace of tears on her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have hit you, Ember. I’m sorry. It’s been very trying since your father disappeared, and then when his body washed up…” Her lip trembles, but I can’t focus on her, my mind conjuring up images of my father, bloated and ravaged by the sea.

“Sugar? Ember, baby,” Prince’s voice sounds so far away, and it’s as if the world rushes back in, bile filling my throat, and Prince is shaking me, my blurry vision full of emeralds. He must have stood up and turned me around at some point, but I don’t remember when.

“Prince.” My voice cracks, and he pulls me to him, wrapping me up in his strength and whispering reassurances in my ear. I focus on inhaling and exhaling, letting his spiced rum scent fill me until my vision stops wavering and the room stops spinning.

“What’s wrong with her?” I hear Odette ask, her tone sounding more disgusted than worried, but I can’t find it in me to care as I focus on Prince’s heartbeat underneath my cheek, trying to get my lungs to follow his and allow oxygen to keep flowing.

“It’s what grief looks like, Odette, or have you forgotten already?” I’ve never heard Kit so scathing before, and there’s a touch on my shoulder, the warmth on my other side telling me that Oct is here too.

“We’ve got you, little sis,” Oct whispers, stroking my hair.

“Just leave, Odette,” I hear Cas say, and then he’s at my back, his palm gliding up and down, all of them grounding me with their soft touches.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

“CARRY YOU” BY RUELLE

EMBER

After Odette leaves, I feel deflated and wrung out, and I’ve got the rest of the day to face yet. I don’t even have the energy to move right now as I lean against Prince and let him hold me up.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, still pressed against Prince, the others hovering around us.

“Don’t you dare apologize, Sugar,” Prince growls, pulling me away from him enough so that he can stare into my eyes. His swirl with emerald fire, the sight captivating and lending me strength. “She had no fucking right to slap you.” His nostrils flare, his jaw tight under the stubble, and I reach up to cup his face.

“But what I said, it was uncalled for. People grieve differently, and perhaps her way is to dress normally, act normally.” He doesn’t look convinced, his brows dipped low, and my gut swirls with unease. Why would he think that she’s being false in her grief, just like I accused her of? Maybe I was right, maybe she is faking it? “I should probably say sorry to her.”

“Why don’t you give it a bit of time for you both to calm down?” Cas suggests, pressing a kiss to my temple. My eyelids close briefly as I absorb the gesture, my lungs taking a deep inhale, their mixed scents calming me further.

“But there are things that need organising, and I’ve spent too long already hiding from the world,” I tell him, taking another deep inhale before stepping away from them. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course, little sis,” Oct says, grasping my hand. “We will always have your back.” Warmth fills me up, and I manage a smile, wincing as my cheek aches.

“We should get something cold on your cheek, Cinders,” Cas chides, stepping towards me, but I’m shaking my head.

“It’s fine, Cas. Let’s find Odette and clear the air.” I hate the bad feeling that covers my skin, sticking to me like those muggy days when we’re due a thunderstorm that just won’t come.

We leave the dining room, and after asking Reginald if he’s seen Odette, he takes us to my father’s office. What was his office, I guess. A lump forms in my throat as we stand outside, the door slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath and blinking back tears, I push the door open the rest of the way and stride inside.

“Ember,” Odette utters, rising from behind my father’s desk, papers strewn across the surface. Her eyes are wide, like she didn’t expect to see me so soon, and the way she steps in front of the desk, blocking my view of what the papers might say, has alarm bells ringing in my head. Regardless, I should at least try to make amends, out of respect for my father, if nothing else. He did marry her after all.

“I’m sorry I spoke out of turn, Odette. We all deal with grief differently, it wasn’t my place to judge.” Her features soften as she comes towards me, her arms out. My heart races, but I’m determined to become the girl I’d always wanted to be but was too scared to embrace. If nothing else, my father’s death has taught me that life is too short to be anything other than your truest self. “But you shouldn’t have hit me, that wasn’t okay.”

Her arms drop just as she reaches me, the side of her face twitching, and I wonder if anyone has ever stood up to her before. Taking another deep inhale, and trying not to focus on the woodsy smell that reminds me of my dad, I step closer to her, taking her hands in mine. They’re cold, and something about holding them makes my teeth want to grind together, but I ignore it in a bid to settle the bad air.

“I’m sorry I struck out, Ember, honey,” she says after a moment, squeezing my hands in hers, exactly like she did that day not so long ago when I first met her. “It’s just been so hard, what with the accident and then having to deal with getting him flown back over.”

Tears make my vision swim, and I lick my lips, attempting to hold them back. I don’t want to cry in front of her, something telling me to save it for when I’m with the guys.

“I–I get that, and I’m here t–to help with any preparations,” I stutter, the presence at my back from my stepbrothers giving me strength.

“Oh, that’s all been taken care of, honey. The funeral is tomorrow. He’ll be buried next to your mother, as per his wishes.” Her lips twist slightly at the last part, like she’s annoyed by that, but it’s gone too quickly for me to digest it.

“T–tomorrow?” I swallow hard, the action painful as I fight against the lump that’s getting bigger, threatening to cut off my air supply. She gives my hands a final squeeze before letting go, and instead of being reassuring, the gesture makes me wince as pain shoots up my arms.

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