Page 131 of The Stolen Kingdom

Valda clenched her fist at her side, swallowed her desperation, and ran back to Maris. The other woman was using her entire body weight to give Isen compressions, while Eyphah cried quietly, resignation on her face.

As Valda got closer, Maris lifted her gaze, her face slightly hopeful. “Did you get it?” she asked, never stopping her attempt to bring Isen back.

Valda’s lower lip quivered as she shook her head. “There’s none left.”

Maris slowly stopped her compression while Eyphah demanded why she was stopping. “What? No. That can’t be right.” Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes, turning back to Isen, her hands still on his chest.

“There is none left,” Valda muttered, tightening her jaw.

Eyphah’s shoulders dropped. She leaned over Isen’s corpse and enveloped the body in a tight hug. Her face pressed against the crook of his neck as she released a pained howl. Maris fell on her bottom. Her hands trembled as she looked past Isen and Eyphah, her gaze falling on Melvian’s corpse.

“They couldn’t stay away…” Maris whispered, Eyphah’s cries drowning her voice. She turned her head to Valda. “They couldn’t—”

Valda silenced Maris by falling on her knees and wrapping her in a tight embrace. Her mate’s entire body quaked, as she cried onto Valda’s shoulder.

Squeezing her tightly, Valda looked down at Captain Hurley’s body. She closed her eyes tightly and tried her hardest to stop the gathering of her tears.

“They have been blessed with death together,” Valda rasped, her hand rubbing warm circles over Maris’s back. “They will find each other soon enough.”

The night brought an eerie quietness to Prospero. The houses, once filled with bombs, were now used for shelter for the Sealians. The square was cleaned out, leaving only a steady and ever burning pyre. Its heavy flames consumed the bodies of those who lost their lives in the attack.

Maris sat near a destroyed wagon, watching the fire. In her arms, Ciel fussed, her tiny hands reaching to grab something, anything.

Moments ago, Maris and Eyphah had walked inside the house Coral and the babies were taking refuge in. The woman had fallen asleep, her child on her chest while the two babies rested in an improvised crib, made from wood and furs. Eyphah, broken and destroyed, released a heavy sob as she walked to the crib and picked up Struan. Although the baby’s hair was dark like a Skylian, she commented on the resemblance between the child and Isen. Maris allowed her to have a moment with her nephew before she picked up Ciel, who slept peacefully, wrapped in warm blankets.

Now, Maris stared at the burning flame. The crackling and popping kept her mesmerized by the notion that her best friend, along with her mate, had been consumed by the fire. Combining their ashes would help them find each other faster in the afterlife. Maybe. Hopefully.

Melvian… She was more than a best friend. That woman had appeared in her life and made it worth trying again and again. She was never afraid to speak her mind, to let Maris know when she wasn’t being sane…

She lost a sister.

A knot formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard to keep herself from crying again. A soft bump stole her attention. Cerberus’ shadowy figure sat beside her, rubbing her head against her side before lying next to her. A set of footsteps approached her, and as she raised her gaze, she found Valda highlighted by the fire’s light. In her arms, Struan slept peacefully. Not uttering one word, the other woman sat next to Cerberus, her face wet with tears.

It was strange seeing Valda cry, then again, she and Isen must’ve become close in the past months.

Suddenly, Struan fussed, his soft cries incited Ciel’s. Both babies wailed gently, their tiny hands reaching to grasp something.

“I took him from Eyphah, she was crying with Coral when I found her,” Valda said, cooing at Struan and rocking him in her arms. “Do you… think they know their parents are gone?”

“Perhaps,” Maris whispered, pressing her forehead to Ciel. The baby girl hiccupped, whined one last time, and then settled in Maris’s arms.

Valda leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Maris watched her through her own exhaustion. The silence brought some comfort. And so did the sounds of the nightly creatures, and the crackling and popping fire.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Valda’s deep voice broke the silence. “Only Eris and Arwin’s.”

Maris tensed, her eyes drifting to Ciel’s face. The baby girl’s uncanny resemblance to her mother made Maris’s heart ache even more. “I couldn’t help her,” she muttered, her lower lip quivering. “And I didn’t notice his injuries.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Valda’s tone was final, and there was no space for Maris to disagree. And yet, she did wholeheartedly. If only she had been blessed… If only she had listened to Melvian... She would’ve still be alive along with Isen and many others more.

Everything happened so fast. Maris shuddered in a breath and closed her eyes tightly. The flashes of pandemonium hit her with full force. The blood, the screams, the cries. She remembered Cai and what he had told her. She could already see Coljar and the rest running for safety, Cai’s hesitance to kill. He was just a boy and had taken it upon himselfto play the role of a soldier. Maris imagined his soul cracking as his sword plunged into a traitorous Skylian.

A child, forced to do things he didn’t want to do…

Maris’s eyes fluttered open, and she turned to her mate again.

A child forced to do things…

A child.

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