Page 135 of Spark of the Everflame

My quivering hands, clinging to a Fortosian steel dagger with white-knuckled fear.

To someone who had just walked in, it surely looked like I’d been about to do something evil. Something treasonous.

“Nothing happened,” I protested. “Nothing. He just—it was nothing.”

Luther pushed his way past the guards to Ulther’s side. He took one look at the King’s pained expression, then yanked back the blankets and searched his body for wounds.

“I didn’t hurt him,” I blurted out. “Your guard surprised me, that’s all.”

“I heard voices,” the guard cut in. “There was yelling and a struggle.” He pointed to the overturned chair at my feet and glared at me.

“A struggle?” I shook my head frantically. “I swear, I didn’t do anything!”

I shot Luther a pleading look, but the dark suspicion I’d seen the night before at the armory had reappeared in his eyes.

The worst part of it all was that ithurt. He had no reason to believe me—plenty of reason not to, in fact—but in that moment, seeing Luther glare at me like I’d murdered a defenseless, dying man felt like hehad been the one to drive a blade intomychest. For a moment, just a moment, I’d stupidly believed we might have been something like friends.

My throat burned, and I hated myself for it.

I channeled my hurt into ire, hiding my wounded heart behind a scowl. “I didn’t even want to be here. You begged me to come, remember?”

No one spoke.

Luther silently finished checking the King’s body as I glared at the wall, blinking rapidly to fight back the emotions squeezing at my chest. Once satisfied the King was unharmed, Luther paused. His features pinched as he started toward me.

“Diem—”

“That’sMiss Bellatorto you,” I snapped, still refusing to meet his eyes. “Arrest me or let me leave. I don’t want anything to do with this palace or anyone in it ever again.”

A long beat of silence passed.

“You’re free to go,” he said quietly.

I shoved past him and out of the room, storming through the long corridors. At the sound of his footsteps echoing behind me, I had to fight the instinct to run, settling for a hurried jog down the winding staircase of the foyer, two steps at a time.

As I approached the main entry, I caught the eye of the guard I’d brought to his knees on my first formal visit. He took one look at the knife still clutched in my hand and stepped toward me with a vengeful sneer.

“Touch her, and I’ll rip off your fucking arms.”

His face paled at the boom of Luther’s voice across the marble foyer. The guard’s gaze flicked over my shoulder, then back to me. He shrank back to his post, but if his glare had been a weapon, my entrails would have been decorating the chandelier above our heads.

My furious pace continued outside and down the entryway steps. Even the splash of crisp morning air couldn’t soothe the simmering eruption barely contained beneath my skin.

My heart felt raw in a way I didn’t understand. Why should I care what Luther thought of me? He was a Descended, and the Descended were my enemies. Just because I wasn’t ready to slaughter them in cold blood like the Guardians didn’t mean we could ever be allies.

It certainly didn’t mean we could ever be something more.

I slammed the door on that thought as hard as I could. I needed to get far away from here and never,evercome back.

I broke into a run, flying past the palace gates and down the secluded pebbled path that led along the walls of the royal grounds toward Mortal City. I was nearly to the main road when Luther’s voice rang out behind me.

“Diem, wait.”

“You don’t get to call me that,” I snapped, refusing to slow.

“Will you please stop running?”

“Go freeze in hell.”

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