Page 333 of Heat of the Everflame

I whipped to face her. “You built a house of lies around us, then you lit the fuse and walked away. When it all exploded, I had to pick up the pieces, even though I was completely falling apart. You have no idea how dark things got. The choices I had to make.” Hot, angry tears sprung to my eyes at the memory of the armory attack—how I’d surrendered to my shame and welcomed a fiery end. “The choices I almost made. Choices I almost didn’t come back from.”

Her expression took on a horrified kind of sorrow. “I had no idea...”

“Your secrets put me in danger a hundred times over. Not just me—Teller and Father, too. If I’d known about my magic, if I’d taken the years to train... maybe I could have saved him.” My voice broke. “Maybe he wouldn’t be dead because of me.”

“Diem,” Luther said softly, looking pained. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“Don’t,” I warned him. “I know you blame yourself for it just as much as I do. So does Teller, for not being home when it happened. Father’s death left scars on us all.” I glared at her. “Meanwhile,youwere off planting bombs for the Guardians.”

She nodded as her own tears began to fall. “You’re right. I should have been there.”

“But you weren’t. Teller and I lost everything.Everything. Father was gone, our home was gone, our lives were in chaos. All we had was each other, and I could barely give him that. I was broken. So fucking broken, in every possible way. We needed answers. We needed love and guidance. We needed our gods-damnedmother. And you just... weren’t there. So don’t you dare tell me that family comes first. You put the Guardians first—and your family paid the price.”

She clutched at her heart like my words had carved a bodily wound, her wet cheeks gleaming in the moonlight. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I’d come home in a month, and everything would be the same.” She buried her face in her hands and choked out a sob. “Gods, what have I done?”

As angry as I was, seeing her hurting brought no joy, no vindication. This wasn’t a fight to be won. These were open wounds that needed cleaning, tending, and time—and even then, the scars might never fade.

Luther gently squeezed my hand. The simple gesture made all the difference, his strength soaking into me as surely as his magic had.

“You weren’t there, Mother.” My chin lifted. “But Luther was. He made sure I had weapons and friends and a place I could feel safe, and he asked nothing in return. He took care of me. Teller, too. Even when we had no one, we always had him.”

Her bleary-eyed focus shifted to Luther, the scorn softening from her face. “Perhaps...” Her throat worked. “Perhaps I’ve been hasty in my judgment.”

I sighed and sagged against him. “You can’t imagine what he and I have been through. I owe him everything.”

He laid a kiss on my temple. “You owe me nothing.”

My mother took a moment to compose herself, wiping her face and taking a steadying breath. “After a lifetime of keeping secrets, openness doesn’t come easy for me. It’s already cost me my husband.” She grimaced, another tear breaking free. “I won’t let it take my daughter, too.” She offered her hand. “Can you forgive me? Or at least give me a chance to make it right?”

I hesitated. “Will you givehima chance?”

She looked at Luther, her expression unreadable. No longer hostile—but not entirely trusting, either. “You swear your intentions toward my daughter are good? You’re not using her for your own gain?”

“I swear,” he said firmly. “Herhappiness is my only goal.”

She gave a stiff nod. “I still have questions, but I will keep an open mind. If what my daughter says is true, then it seems I owe you my gratitude.”

He dipped his head low.

“From now on, we tell each other the truth,” I insisted. “Allof it.”

“All of it,” she echoed.

I glanced up at Luther, and I could have wept at the fragile hope in his eyes. “All of it,” he agreed.

I pulled my mother into an embrace, feeling for the first time like she was really, truly back in my life. We both began to cry, then laughed through messy sniffles at our sorry states. I put an arm around her shoulders, took Luther’s hand, and together we walked back to the campfire, ready to start anew.

Chapter

Sixty-Four

“Be careful.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t suppress a smile. “Mother, you’ve said that twenty times already this morning.”

“Because I know my daughter. You’ve never met a danger you didn’t want to run into head-first.”

“Then you also know your warnings are as useless as the wind,” Luther grumbled. He suddenly tensed like he was afraid he’d overstepped, but when my mother howled a laugh, he eased against me in our saddle with palpable relief.

---