Page 225 of Heat of the Everflame

“I think so,” I said quietly. Luther took my hand, his curious expression seeming to sense there was more I wasn’t ready to say.

“You cured three godstone wounds,” Taran said. “You’re going to go down as the best healer in Emarion. Take that, Fortos.”

The others burst into laughter and discussion of the happy ending we’d somehow scraped out, but my gaze returned to my crimson-stained hand.

To heal godstone once was a rare stroke of fortune. To heal it twice was a blessing from the divine. To do it three times...

That felt like an imbalance I would be called to repay.

I raised Luther’s hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. It didn’t matter now. I’d offered up my soul for his, and I had no regrets.

If the gods came calling, I’d be ready to answer.

The restof the day passed in a blur. My fussing reached never-before-seen levels as I forced Luther to eat and drink until he begged me to relent.

He and his father had a stilted conversation that the rest of us tried our best to pretend we weren’t eavesdropping on. They clasped wrists and exchanged amicable nods, which was more than Avana offered before they both said their goodbyes and left.

We all crowded into my bed around Luther, laughing and talking and retelling stories of the past few weeks. After sending Perthe away for some well-deserved rest, I revealed the same truths I’d admitted in Umbros—about my time in the Guardians, the so-called prophecy, and what I’d learned about my mother and birth father. Eleanor and Lily took it surprisingly well, but Teller’s mood soured with every new revelation. Soon I could barely get him to look me in the eyes.

Here in Lumnos, Remis had never officially announced I was missing, though the truth had quickly leaked. After news broke of my mother’s capture and her role in the island attack, speculation had exploded about where I was and why.

My brother had taken the brunt of the gossip, to the point his school was now pressuring him to end his final year early. I swore to him I wouldn’t let that happen, but he merely shrugged and mumbled something about making the decision himself.

The others took right to Zalaric, as I knew they would. Eleanor squealed with delight when I proposed she take him shopping for whatever he needed, and Teller and Lily promised to find him a palace room of his own, an offer Taran quietly pouted over.

Though Zalaric’s confident facade was composed as always, I sensed he was relieved to be so welcomed, while also worried for the half-mortals he’d left behind in Umbros—a concern I shared.

Under my protests and heavy teasing from Taran, I grudgingly agreed to leave Luther’s side for a quick bath and fresh clothes. Just as reluctantly, Luther agreed to the same, though with his body still weak, Taran insisted on “helping.” The rest of us crowded with our ears to the washroom door and laughed until we cried at the shouted obscenities and promises of payback that followed.

When the sun’s light disappeared from the sky, Eleanor proposed we arrange an extravagant dinner feast. Luther instantly made a show of yawning.

“I think my patient needs rest,” I said quickly, catching his grateful wink. “Why don’t we save the rest of the celebrations until he’s fully healed?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she said. “I’ll go to the kitchens and have some platters brought up for us instead.”

Luther slumped his head back on the freshly changed linens and let his eyes droop. “That’s kind, cousin, but I’m not all that hungry.”

Eleanor frowned. “Then I could fetch some—”

He interrupted her with another loud yawn.

“I think the Prince is politely suggesting we all go elsewhere,” Zalaric said, looking amused. “Well... almost all of us.”

“Oh.” Eleanor looked between Luther and me, her eyebrows slowly rising. “Oh.” She jumped to her feet. “I’m exhausted.Aren’t you all exhausted? Some sleep would do us all good, don’t you think?”

“I agree,” Luther rumbled.

She eagerly herded everyone toward the door. Lily squirmed free to steal a hug from her brother. Luther clutched her tight, kissing her forehead before whispering something in her ear that made her glance at Teller and flush bright red. She scurried off and slipped her hand into Teller’s as they left.

Taran jogged over and wrapped me in his strong arms. “Take care of him, Queenie.”

“I will,” I promised.

“And tell him how you feel,” he whispered with a pointed look.

I poked him in the ribs, nodding toward Zalaric. “Just as soon as you tellhimhow you feel.”

He blinked innocently. “I don’t have a clue what you mean.”

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