Page 27 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

Through the darkness, two glowing eyes appeared at the end of one of the rows of books. The creature stalked toward us.

I barely had a handful of papers, but that would have to do.

“Baylis, back toward the door, slowly.”

She did as I commanded.

The creature inched closer. Lightning flashed and two giant fangs came into view. The enormous jungle cat lowered itself into a striking position. My heart raced. We couldn’t die in her mind. If we did our bodies would linger on without consciousness. I had to time everything just right and get Baylis out before her own mind devoured her.

Every hair stood on end.

The creature’s claws clicked on the wood. We were so close to the door. All we had to do was shut it before the creature lunged.

“Baylis, run!”

She bolted for the door, her blonde hair nothing but a streak of gold in my periphery. The cat’s eyes fell upon Baylis, and it moved to strike. Back arched, it leapt toward my sister, claws reaching for her, but I had a few tricks up my sleeve.

Balling my power in one hand, an eerie glow lit the room, swirling like a storm within the orb.

Just as the cat was about to reach my sister, I flung the orb at it, hitting it in the abdomen and knocking it backward. The creature’s mighty body slid across the floor before crashing into a massive wooden bookshelf, which tipped over onto the animal.

I had enough time to slip back through the door and lock it.

I let out the breath I had been holding in, resting my back against the door.

“That was close.”

The creature’s claws pierced through the door next to my head. I squeezed my eyes tight. A bone-chilling roar echoed from beyond, vibrating my entire body.

“Too close,” Baylis said, running a hand through her hair.

The creature dislodged its claws from the door and returned to guard Baylis’s memories.

“How many pages did you grab?”

“Just a handful.” She held up a stack of parchment.

“Let’s go into the dining room and see what we grabbed.”

We headed down the creaky stairs to the large dining room, where our mother’s beloved crystal chandelier hung, a reminder of the family we used to be—of Yuletide feasts surrounded by friends and intimate dinners with just the three of us.

We spread the papers out on the table. Each page was a fraction of a memory—like putting together a puzzle without a reference picture.

“Let’s see what we have here.” I picked up the first page, gripped Baylis’s hand, and focused my power on the memory. We were transported to the night of the attack on Elyria. Fires blazed around us. My beloved home, burning to ash. The smell of charred flesh and the sound of desperate screams filled the air. My chest tightened.

A horse with no rider ran past us, saddle riddled with flaming arrows.

I had never seen this before—the result of my weakness. I sank to my knees, the weight of my actions pressing into my flesh, heavy and leaden. Baylis touched my shoulder just as the memory faded away.

Back in the dining room, I wiped the tears from my eyes and took gasping breaths. “I knew it was bad, but I…”

Baylis rubbed my back. “It’s not your fault, Aelia. There was nothing you could have done.”

The blood turned to ice in my veins. She didn’t know. How could she? Gideon wouldn’t have told her—or perhaps he had.

“Gideon didn’t tell you?”

Her brows knitted with concern.

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