Page 212 of Heat of the Everflame

As they talked, I gazed blankly into the hearth and lost myself in the dance of the fire. Perhaps subconsciously, I threw my magic into it, and it swelled to engulf the fireplace, hot flames licking at the stone mantle’s edge. The others jumped, startled, and eyed me with uncertainty.

In the orange-red glow of the blaze, Luther’s face kept staring back at me. The inferno during the armory attack. The dragonfyre in the Arboros clearing. The explosions in the Guardians’ camp. The wall of flames on the beach in Ignios.

In some ways, it was fire that had brought us together. Fire that had forged us—melted us down, welded us together, and hardened us into a single, indomitable force.

Fire that would receive him, if I failed—the Undying Fire of the sacred Everflame, the final resting place for worthy souls.

If only fire could also save him.

My hand absently rose to my throat as I thought of the phoenix medallion he had gifted me. I stood to retrieve it when shouting voices came from the main salon.

“You can’t go in there!”

“This is mypalace, I can go wherever I want.”

“Those are Her Majesty’s personal quarters.”

“Father, please, wait—”

The door to my bedchamber slammed open and bounced off the stone wall. Luther’s father, Remis, stepped inside, followed by Remis’s wife, Avana, then Lily, Teller, and Perthe, the Descended who had devoted himself to my service after I’d saved his life by dragging him from the burning armory.

“Your Majesty, you’re back,” Perthe gasped, dropping to a knee in salute.

“Indeed, you are,” Remis murmured. He offered only a curt nod as his eyes trailed me in scrutiny before sweeping across the rest of the room.

Teller grabbed Lily’s wrist and tugged her over to me. “Sorry,” he muttered. “He saw us coming back from the gardens and followed us.”

I gestured to Perthe to stand, and he rose, rushing to my side.

“I stayed with your brother the whole time you were gone, Your Majesty,” he vowed. “I never left him, not even for a second.”

“He sure didn’t,” Teller said with a scowl.

“Thank you, Perthe,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Your loyalty is greatly appreciated.”

Lily handed over a basket of garden cuttings. I traded it for a grateful, albeit strained, smile and hurried to set it at Maura’s side.

“I thought we could try adding the star nettle and blushroom to a drawing salve,” I rushed out. “I don’t think it’s been done before, but—”

“Is that...godstone?” Avana shrieked. She and Remis stood at the foot of the bed, looking equally pale. “Blessed Kindred, he’s going to die.”

Lily walked to Luther and took his hand. “No, Mother. Diem and Maura are going to save him.”

Maura looked at her, then at me, frowning.

Remis stared down at his son with a haunted look. His head shook slowly. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. It’s too late. No one can save him now.”

“That’s what you thought when he got his scar too, wasn’t it?” I said coldly. “Yet here he is.”

He stiffened. “Luther told you?”

“Oh, he told me everything.” My wrath-darkened gaze flitted briefly to Avana. “Everything. And you better hope that when he’s healed, he’s willing to ask for my mercy on your behalf.”

Several eyebrows raised as Remis glanced uneasily at the now-crowded room. His eyes paused and sharpened on Zalaric. “Who are you?”

He raised his angled jaw. “My name is Zalaric Hanoverre. I’m an old friend of Luther’s.”

Remis’s brows carved inward. “I know every member of House Hanoverre. Why have I never heard of you?”

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