Page 108 of Heir of Illusion

Her forehead wrinkles. “Excuse me?”

“How long do you suggest we lie low?” I demand, my body shaking.

She cocks her head to one side, observing me with some emotion I don’t have the energy to puzzle out. “Until it’s safe.”

I bark out a harsh laugh. “So, in the meantime we stick our heads in the sand and ignore anyone who needs our help?”

“We can’t help others if we can’t even help ourselves,” she says in a patient tone that sets my skin on fire.

“Coward.”

Della goes still. “Excuse me.”

“You’re quitting!” Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know these words are unfair, but that rational, reasonable part of me has been locked away, chained by some reckless monster wearing my face.

She rises from the couch, coming to stand before me. I can tell from her restrained movements that she’s barely holding onto her own temper, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t stop.

“Just until it’s safe,” she promises.

“It was never safe!” I shout, pounding my fist against my chest. “It will never be safe! Not for me!”

“Then maybe we should stop forever!”

The ground wobbles beneath me. Or at least I think it does. I’m not sure.

“No.” I shake my head, trying to stop the heat building behind my eyes. “I won’t.”

“You will.” The hard set of her jaw tells me I’ve lost her.

“You don’t control me. No one controls me.” The words catch in my throat, sounding wet and muffled.

Her expression fills with pity. “We both know that’s not true, Iverson.”

My head snaps back as if she’s slapped me.

“If you keep going, you’ll be caught,” she continues, her voice softening. “And I’ll be caught with you. All the good that we’re doing will end.”

My bottom lip quivers. “Aren’t you trying to end it right now?”

“There’s a difference between stopping permanently versus staying quiet for a few months,” she explains. “And with your engagement, you need to be careful. There will be more eyes on you than ever before. You shouldn’t even be here right now.”

The rational part of my mind insists that her words make sense, but I refuse to accept them. I can’t lose the only thing I’m good at. The only thing I’m goodfor.Without this, who am I? Just thewraith? Baylor’s pet? His fiancée? The Angel of Mercy was the roleIchose. Without it, only counterfeit versions of me exist. I’m nothing.

Worthless.

“Della, please.” My voice cracks.

She drops her gaze, shifting back and forth on her feet.

“I have to protect them,” I whisper, unable to hide the tears sliding down my cheeks.

“Why?” she asks, a strange expression haunting her lovely face. “Why is this so important to you?”

“Because I didn’t protect her!” I shout as something cracks inside of me.

My hands cover my mouth instantly, but it’s too late. Shame burns in my gut as my eyes dart back and forth between the woman in front of me and the portrait on the wall.

“Ivy—”

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