Page 79 of Heir of Illusion

“She was resigned, but there was a spark of hope there that I hadn’t seen in years. Her eyes met mine, and she whispered a single word.Fly.And then she grabbed hold of the man’s hand and drove his knife through her chest.”

I thought my eyes were done producing tears, but I realize I was wrong as one trails down my cheek. “It wasn’t your fault. You have to know that, Thorne.”

He doesn’t answer, and I don’t blame him. If he told me Leona’s death wasn’t my fault, I wouldn’t believe him either.

“What did you do then?” I ask.

“Everything was silent for a moment as the reality of the situation set in. Then all of the guards began to panic. They knew my father would kill them all. I heard one of them shout to blame it on the kid, and next thing I knew, they were all swarming me. I felt something snap, like a power that had always been hiding beneath the surface was finally breaking free. My shadows were unleashed for the first time, and I slaughtered each and every one of them. The snakes ripped them to pieces.”

“Good.”

His eyes slide to mine. “So vindictive, Angel.”

“What did you do after?” I ask, ignoring the shivers that race through me whenever he calls me that.

“I picked up my mother’s body and took her to the cliff by our cottage. I figured either I’d learn to fly, or we’d sink into the sea together. It wasn’t easy since I’d never been able to use my wings before, but somehow, I did it. It was painful, but I got us out of there. I couldn’t leave my mother’s body behind, trapped in that awful place. She deserved to be free.”

“How old were you?”

“Eight.”

I feel a sharp crack in my chest. “Fates… I’m so sorry, Thorne.”

He nods.

“What happened to your father?” I ask. “And to theenchanter?”

He opens his mouth to speak but stops when a male voice calls his name.

We both stand as we spot a tall blond fae treading through the sand, dressed in dark trousers and a white tunic that is unbuttoned down to his chest. His features are stereotypically handsome. Straight nose and full lips. An angular jaw that’s perfectly proportioned to his high cheekbones. As the newcomer’s gaze switches from Thorne to me, a flirtatious smile breaks across his face.

“And who do we have here?” he asks, his voice low and seductive as he stops a few feet away.

“Griffen, this is Lady Iverson,” Thorne replies, his tone suddenly turning cold.

“Thewraith!” Griffen’s eyes widen as his hand moves to his chest. “You are even more lovely than people say.”

I bark out a laugh. “I imagine ‘lovely’ isn’t the word they use when describing me.”

“You’re right,” he agrees, a dangerous twinkle in his eye. “It’s much too tame. If I were to describe you, I’d choose a far more sensual adjective.”

Thorne steps forward, placing his body slightly between me and Griffen. “Watch yourself,” he orders.

Griffen’s forehead wrinkles as his gaze flicks back and forth between us before dropping to the soiled handkerchief in my hands. His eyes go wide as understanding dawns on his face. With his lips pulled into a wide, devilish grin, he leans around the reaper.

“My dear lady, how long have you known my friend here?” he asks, utterly beaming.

“I don’t see how that concerns you,” I say evenly, my eyes narrowing as I try to understand the dynamics at play here.

His brows shoot up as he nods approvingly. “Ah, a suspicious nature. I see you are well matched with my paranoid friend.”

It’s not lost on me that this is the second time he’s referred to Thorne as his friend. The reaper doesn’t correct him, so I suppose it must be true. My curiosity rises.

“And how long have you two known each other?” I ask.

“Too long,” Thorne grumbles.

I bite down on a smile. “Strange you’ve never mentioned your dearest friend Griffen.”

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