Page 326 of Heat of the Everflame

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself as a shudder rolled down my spine. Luther jumped up and grabbed the spelled Montios cloak, draping it over my shoulders, then stoked the fire until its heat seared against my skin.

But it wasn’t the cold making my hands tremble.

He crouched at my side. “How can I help?” he said softly.

“You’ve done enough,” I rasped.

After being spotted by the man—by mysire—my mother and I had gone into matching states of shock. We’d both stared dumbly as Luther hauled us back down the hill. He’d thrownmy mother onto her saddle and pulled me into his, leaving my horse behind as he took both reins and launched into an urgent retreat.

The Guardians must have seen us coming from the mountains, because a group of them were waiting for us at the pass. Rather than fight, Luther changed course for Sophos, pushing our horses to a punishing pace until the day faded to black. Just shy of the border, he’d found an overhang tucked into a hill where the three of us waited in tense silence, jumping at every rustle and snapped twig. When the moon rose high with no sign of pursuit, he’d set up our camp for the night.

He had singlehandedly saved our lives. Meanwhile, I couldn’t string together more than that one singular thought.

I tried to kill my father.

I gazed into the flames. “He wanted me to find him,” I mumbled. “So why hasn’t he followed us?”

It was our only reassurance of safety. Though I still felt a faint trace of his power, it was clear he was nowhere nearby. The Guardians might still be on the hunt, but for whatever reason,hewas not.

“It’s for the best. At least until we know what he wants.”

“I tried to kill him, Luther. He’s my father, and I almost...” My voice dropped away as another tremor rattled through me.

“You didn’t know.”

“But I do know now. And it doesn’t change what I have to do.”

Concern carved deep on his brow. He squeezed my hand, his desperate urge to ease my pain evident in his grip. “Tell me what you need.”

My gaze lifted to my mother, pale and shivering, on the other side of the fire.

“The truth,” I breathed.

Her watery eyes rose to mine. She’d barely spoken since we’d fled, the weight of this revelation hitting her just as hard.

Luther stood. “It’s going to be a cold night. I’ll go gather some more firewood.”

I threw him a grateful look for what he was really offering—the privacy he knew my mother would require before she would give me any answers. His focus dwelled on me for a moment, an invisible caress against my cheek, then he left.

I shrugged off the cloak, preferring the way the sharp frost nipped at my skin and cut through my daze. I walked to my mother’s side, setting it on her instead, then took a seat beside her on a fallen log.

“I need to know everything, Mother.” I’d been aiming for stubborn resolve, but it came out like a pathetic plea instead. “I know you were only trying to protect me, but these secrets are more dangerous than the truth.”

She nodded stiffly but didn’t speak.

My voice softened. “I won’t tell anyone else, if that’s what worries you. Not even Luther.”

A frown flickered over her face. “How did you two become so close?”

“He and I...” I winced. “This isn’t about Luther. It’s aboutus. And it’s time you told me the truth about who I am.”

“Your heart is what makes you who you are, Diem. Not Ophiucae. All he did is give you his blood.”

Ophiucae.

For so long, my birth father had been no more than a missing word in my story. Like the names of the Old Gods in the mortal books, his name had been burned off the pages of my life in the hopes that I might forget he was ever there.

But now he had a name. He had aface.

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