Page 54 of Flight of Fate

I’m thrown out of Herinor’s memory so fast I’m reeling, fingers digging into Ayna’s so hard I worry the tang of blood will penetrate the air any moment. But when I glance down, my talons have retreated, and the shadows at my fingertips have once more quieted.

No one is moving as I lift my gaze to screen the room. Reality. I’m back to the present, my mother buried in Herinor’s memories once more. His light green eyes meet mine, an expression of misery defining his features.

“Myrion,” he whispers. “She gave you a version of her own name.” Throat bobbing hard, he blinks away the moisture in his eyes. “I’d forgotten what a free and fierce spirit she was before she met Carius. How—” He cuts himself off, but Kaira’s mind link provides all the words he’s trying to hide.

How beautiful, how incredible, how gifted and grand-hearted.Remorse envelops each word in a coarse texture, smoothing away the sharp edges of the bitter warrior’s perspective.

I’m not sure how I feel about the way he thinks about my mother, if there was ever more between them, or if this is merelythe expression of respect and affection for a female who got to marry the cruelest of all Crows.

“I’ve seen enough.” I don’t care that my sour tone betrays the turmoil inside me. I’ve learned enough about the male who betrayed us. I’ve learned more than I ever wanted to learn, and I know what I need to do.

Grasping Ayna’s hand more tightly, I incline my head at Kaira, who is shaking from either exhaustion or from her own inner storm of emotions—I wouldn’t be surprised at either. “Thank you for assisting us with your skills.” My gaze lands on Tori, who nods once, confirmation he’ll be taking care of the situation if I choose to leave right now.

For a long moment, I study Herinor kneeling on the hard floor, the regret and the pain exuding from him with every exhale, but it’s Ayna who finds the words which I cannot.

“Thank you.”

The male’s eyes lock on hers, two tormented orbs of spring green. “For what? I only ever caused you pain.”

“Even if you hurt me in the process, you brought Myron and me back together. And everything you did to help …himsince.” She cautiously emphasizes that Herinor helpedmejust to keep the magic of bargains happy.

A blend of awe and fear rises in my belly as my mate detaches from my grasp, striding over to stand before Herinor still kneeling in front of Kaira. Her sister takes a casual step back, eager to get away from the male whose thoughts she just channeled, her flushed cheeks turning pale as Ayna extends a hand to the traitor—no, the misguided male who has been fighting to make things right.

The air in the rooms seems to drain as Herinor glances up at her in question, as if he can’t believe she is offering her delicate hand. When he hesitantly places his rough, scarred one in hers, my gut clenches, everything within me screaming toleap between them, to protect her from the dangers slumbering within Herinor’s oath.

For a long, long moment, they stare at each other, a wordless conversation passing between them. When she finally tugs on his hand and he stands, Herinor’s head remains bowed, gaze lowered to his boots.

“I’m so sorry.” I could swear tears choke his voice.

And just when I think my mate is the most amazing creature in the universe, she does the unbelievable and wraps both arms around Herinor’s broad form. “I forgive you.” Her whisper cuts through the silence like steel through liquid gold, coating her voice with glimmering metal.

Herinor’s shoulders are shaking, hair spilling over Ayna’s arm as he latches onto her in a desperate embrace. “I don’t deserve it.”

From the corner of my eye, I notice Kaira shaking her head.

Broken. This male is broken in so many ways even I can’t begin to understand, and yet, his queen is forging him anew with her heart large enough to fit our entire kingdom. And this traitor will be part of it.

“It’s never too late to make the right choice,”Herinor says through tears, and something in the way he speaks the words tells me they mean more to him than any of us could ever comprehend.

Thirty-Three

Ayna

“Again!”Kaira shouts across the training ring, daggers raised as she twirls toward Clio in a light-footed attack.

The Fairy Princess parries with a flash of her sword, shoving the Flame back toward the edge of the arena.

Clio’s smirk tells volumes about what satisfaction it gives her to be the best fighter attending this training session—honestly, even if Tori or Rogue were here, she might outshine them with her quick, agile moves and her uncanny talent for spotting her opponents’ weaknesses.

Panting, Kaira pushes against Clio’s blade, ducking under the fairy’s arm and sprinting across the frozen ground so fast only my fae vision made it possible to discern the individual steps from my position on the logs at the side of the training space.

Clio’s laugh sweeps through the air like wind chimes. “Much better.”

I don’t know how many times they’ve repeated this specific move, but after tens of times of it ending with Kaira’s ass on the ground, she’s been deflecting the past few attacks, each time more elegant than the last. At least, this is more progress than the countless meetings, sit-ins with Rogue, Tori, Tata, and the Crows, discussing all angles of when or how Erina could attack,of Ephegos’s potential plans, or how to secure Aceleau against further infiltration if the Crow traitors can so easily unweave wards. At least, the wards on the palace are too strong and intricate for them to gnaw through in the night and surprise us with an attack. It’s a small relief, but we all sleep better, knowing our loved ones are safe—for now.

Wiping sweat off her brow with the back of her hand, Kaira saunters over to sit beside me. I reach for the water jar and hand it to her. “You’ve gotten faster.”

Chugging down the cool liquid, she nods. “Two weeks of daily training will do that to a halfling.” Her grin is halfhearted, but I know she no longer means the reference to her being only part-Flame in depreciation. She’s part of the family, whatever heritage she holds. And part of it is the same blood running through my veins.

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