Page 77 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

Eachattemptbecamemoreunbearable than the one before it, but they spent their mornings working together to break the command. After almost a week of trying unsuccessfully, apprehension weighed so heavily on Zylah she could concentrate on little else. If she couldn’t do this for Holt, he wouldn’t be able to join them in Virian, and Nye was right: if he had to stand back and watch, the damage would be irrevocable.

Some days, neither of them could endure more than one attempt, the pain too real, the memories too vivid. The torture too brutal. Ranon had used Holt’s suffering to command him, the ancient Fae’s authority of magic far greater than anything Zylah had ever experienced. But Holt was strong, too. Stronger than any Fae she’d met. And he’d held on as long as he could, resisted Ranon’s power until his own had been torn from him, killing four terrified Fae in the process.

It had delayed their testing with Okwata, but if the dark shadows under their eyes were anything to go by, the scientist didn’t push the matter. None of their friends did either, too aware that neither of them was yet fully healed from what they’d endured. Were still enduring.

By the sixth day, when it was time to leave for Maelissa’s court, Zylah began to question whether she’d ever be able to pull apart what had been done to him. They’d only worked on the command, though Zylah had seen flashes of Aurelia’s and Thallan’s mental onslaughts that were too painful to sift through.

“You’re leaving?” Rin asked with a yawn, taking in Zylah’s small bag. It was rare the Fae spent a night in their tent, but Zylah knew Arlan was away for the next few days.

“I left some more contraceptive tonic for you under your pillow so you don’t have to keep sneaking out of the healers’ tent.”

Rin pushed to her elbows, silver-grey eyes widening. “You… I…”

Zylah continued to pack, hiding her smile at Rin’s stammering. “When I thought I was human, I took it to help with my heavy cycles. And I continued to take it after…” After she discovered she was half Fae, after the vanquicite was removed from her body and there was nothinghalfabout her. “Out of habit more than anything. A friend in Virian confirmed it’s the same recipe for Fae. What I’m trying to say is I don’t need an explanation. I only want to help.” Anything to settle Rin’s nerves, which Zylah suspected were to do with her attempts to conceal her relationship with Arlan from her brother.

Rin pulled a pouch from under her pillow and examined the contents, her brow creasing. “How long have you known?”

“Does it matter? If you’re having a good time, that’s enough for me.” Rin said nothing, a sickly feeling turning the brin fruit Zylah had eaten for breakfast in her stomach. “You are having a good time, aren’t you?” Malok had settled the terms of the marriage between Rin and Arlan with Arlan’s father, but Zylah knew nothing of the details. Only that marriage had seemed like the last thing either of them were interested in when Zylah saw them together at the Aquaris Court. Add an overprotective twin into the mix, and Rin had shown little interest in being betrothed to Arlan at all.

The Fae ran a hand over the tight curls of her hair and threw the blanket off her legs, rolling her shoulders like she was getting ready to shift. “It’s complicated. But thank you, for this, Zylah. I really do appreciate it.” There was a heaviness in her tone that was so unlike the Fae Zylah had come to know. Now she thought of it, Zylah hadn’t seen any of the lightness she’d grown accustomed to from Rin since she’d fled Ranon’s maze.

She paused beside the opening of their tent, glancing back at her friend. “Love isn’t a weakness, Rin. Remember that when your thoughts and Kej’s voice are keeping you from sleep.”

There was no response, but Zylah didn’t need one. She set off through the camp, keeping her head down as she made her way to the healers’ tent to check in with Deyna and the other healers. The witch had hinted a few times that Holt might be instrumental in healing her eyes, but Holt’s healing abilities still hadn’t returned, and Zylah tried not to let herself dwell on that, on how she might have been draining him.

Deyna was convinced Okwata’s anti-venom attempts would be futile; that the way Zylah’s magic was suspending the venom was too powerful for anyone to work around. Zylah tried not to dwell on that, either. She’d stopped covering her eyes when she entered the healers’ tent after her conversation with Holt, mostly because she needed to spend as much time adjusting as possible if the situation was indeed permanent.

It wasn’t Deyna that greeted her, but Kej, one arm in a sling across his chest.

“Who did you piss off this time?” Zylah asked with a grin.

“What, no sympathy hug?” Kej teased. The Fae glanced over his shoulder, then leaned in conspiratorially towards Zylah’s ear. “Some of the healers have very skilled hands, if you know what I mean.”

Zylah rolled her eyes at her friend. Of course he was looking for his next conquest. “You mean Daizin kicked you out of his bed already?”

Kej’s smile faltered, his one-shouldered shrug belying his words. “He wishes he could get me back in his bed.” But the words lacked his usual swagger, regret dancing over his features before his smiled brightened. “I hear you’re off on a mission with Holt today. Does that mean…”

“It means I’m late, thanks to you. Make yourself useful and give this to your healer friend. You can thank me later.” She handed him a pouch of fresh celandia leaves she’d collected the evening before, something she’d overheard the healers mention was in short supply.

Kej sniffed at the contents, his nose wrinkling just like he did in his wildcat form. “I want all the details when you get back. Me, you, a bottle of wine by the fire. It’s a date.”

Zylah huffed a laugh as she pushed him in the direction of the healer he’d had his eye on and turned to leave. Something told her Kej and Daizin’s parting wasn’t straightforward, and though their relationship was none of her business, she couldn’t help but think about all the reasons why. Laydan had broken Daizin’s heart when he’d betrayed them all; perhaps Kej was Daizin’s way of moving on. But Zylah suspected Kej shared some of the same fears around romantic relationships as his sister, that maybe his affections for Daizin ran deeper than he’d let on.

She’d told Rin love wasn’t a weakness, and she’d meant it. It was her own fears that had held her back before, and Zylah was done letting fear win. Holt had turned up every morning for her to attempt to break the command, though their sessions had been markedly less…physicalthan their first attempt. For fear of hurting her, Zylah suspected. She needed to show him she wouldn’t break in the face of his power. Or perhaps he knew they needed to delve deeper into Aurelia’s torture and wasn’t ready to face it yet. Either way, she intended to use the time at Maelissa’s court to find out.

Kopi landed on her shoulder as she made her way to the edge of camp to wait for Holt, her little friend’s trills lightening her mood. “You should be sleeping,” she told him quietly, scratching his head as he nestled into the crook of her neck. He offered a quiethooin response. “I guess I did say you could come with us for this one.”

“Does he talk back?” Holt asked from up ahead, a sword strapped to his back and a bag slung over his shoulder, verdant eyes taking her in as she moved closer. He was early, but that didn’t surprise Zylah. He’d likely have scoped out the area despite the strength of the wards, just in case. Ever the strategist, the Fae who had led the uprising and shaped it into what it was in the camp behind her.

Zylah couldn’t help the small smile she offered up at him, the way he pressed his lips together to hide the quirk of his mouth as he waited for her response. “I wouldn’t put it past him. But he always liked you. It was you who healed his wing when we first found him.”

Holt closed the last few paces between them, stopping just in front of her, his eyes on hers as he reached out a hand to stroke Kopi’s head. His fingers brushed the skin on her neck for just a second, and she tried to conceal a shiver at his touch. “Ready?” he asked, the deep timbre of his voice rolling over her skin.

A nod from Zylah and they were moving, the world slipping away from them as he pulled her through the aether to their first stop. He’d been training with her most days after their attempts to break Ranon’s command; Zylah wasn’t sure if it was his way of repaying her, or if it was to keep his mind occupied whilst they were stuck at camp. But either way, she was grateful for his expertise. And though they hadn’t kissed again, training together provided plenty of opportunities to be physically near him, to touch him, something Zylah delighted in how often Holt found excuses for it as much as she did.

He’d encouraged her to fight with her magic more too, to test the limits of what she could do with her threads after she’d explained them to him at length. He was patient when she made mistakes and missteps, always offering a different perspective, always pushing her a little bit further than the session before. It had barely been a week, but the progress she’d made with him had given her back some of the confidence she hadn’t realised she’d been missing.

So many times she’d almost told him what they were to each other, her selfish desire to claim him keeping her awake at night, obliterated come morning when they’d work on breaking the command again.“I am yours and you are mine. And nothing, no one will convince me otherwise.”The memory hit her square in the chest as they reappeared on the south side of Kerthen, Holt’s eyes on hers as she took a step away from him.

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