Page 48 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

“That’s what I’ve spent most of my life trying to convince them, but”—another rub at his scar—“I’m beginning to think all those years might have been wasted.”

“I disagree. It might not look perfect, but that there are humans and Fae cohabiting here at all is because of you. That’s a pretty noble legacy, if you ask me.”

He cocked his head at that, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what do you know of legacy, Zylah?”

She shook her head. “A friend told me once that they didn’t know what their legacy would be, only that it would be something of their own making.” She gestured to the tunnels surrounding them. “And it was right in front of you, every day, in everything you did for those around you.” Zylah paused, taking in every line of his face, the shadows that still lingered under his eyes. “For those you love.”

Holt’s brow pinched together, another thought there and then gone. “Did something happen during rounds?”

“Luan thinks I might be… stretching my magic a little thin. But…” She held out her palms. “I can’t do half of the things I used to be able to do, either. And it feels like the two versions of me—who I am now and who I used to be—just don’t seem to want to line up with each other, no matter how much I try to make them fit.” It felt wrong to admit that, but not to him. Never to him.

“A friend told me once: sometimes we have to get a little lost before we find ourselves again.”

Zylah hummed, noting the way he toyed with the bracelet at his wrist. “I thought I’d visit Jilah and the children; Niara’s shrill screams drown out my racing thoughts.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Zylah hadn’t said anything to Jilah about her and Holt. They weren’t mated before she’d left Virian, and the old male hadn’t congratulated her, hadn’t commented on scenting their bond, hadn’t seemed to notice anything at all connecting them to each other. She’d had her brother send word to Nye so that she could warn their friends before they arrived and instruct them not to do anything that might cause further damage to Holt’s mind. Mostly for Kej not to put his fucking foot in it.

She walked deeper into the Fae quarters with Holt in silence, all the things she wanted to say knotting her tongue. All the things she wanted to do forcing her to twist her fingers tighter together.

“So I finally get to meet Kopi?” he asked after a short while.

“Not yet. He’ll be at the camp on the outskirts of Kerthen. I didn’t want him anywhere near Aurelia and Ranon.” The truth. Because Kopi wasn’t hers, but she could still try to keep him safe as he had done for her.

“I don’t blame you,” Holt murmured. “I’ve tried, you know. Remembering everything you’ve told me. Piecing together the empty gaps in all that time. Everything you said about Arnir. About what Jesper was. I have all of that, but—” He stopped and turned to face her, eyes roving over her again as if he was searching for her in his memories.

“…none of the parts with me.”

Holt nodded. “And when I try—”

“Don’t,” Zylah breathed, hoping he didn’t mistake her plea for anger. “It’ll only cause you pain.” And there it was. A reminder of everything she’d been doing and shouldn’t. Zylah had no ideawhatshe was doing. Only that she would never forgive herself if he was still hurting because of her. She took a step back from him, even though every inch of her burned to do the opposite. “I think I might go and lie down actually. Luan was right.”

“Zylah.” The word was a plea, just as hers had been.

But she was already walking away from him, tears pressing at the corners of her eyes. “Tell Niara and Kihlan they owe me a game of sticks and stones.”

“Zylah.” Holt’s voice followed her down the tunnel, the knowledge that she was to blame for his suffering the only thing stopping her from turning back.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Nyesplitthescoutsinto two teams.

It wasn’t lost on Zylah that she and Holt would have been part of those teams, would have likely already spent the last few days ferrying refugees back to the camp had they been able to. She was certain it wasn’t lost on Holt either, his discomfort palpable at sitting back doing nothing whilst the scouts worked tirelessly.

Only they weren’t doing nothing. After a quiet scolding from Nye, which, Zylah had to concede she deserved, she sat on the cot in Zack’s quarters, brushing shoulders with Rin and Kej as Nye and Arlan sat at the small wooden table, Zack and Holt beside them. Daizin stood by the door, picking dirt from his nails with a dagger. It turned out he was another memory Aurelia had stolen from Holt, though Zylah supposed that made sense, since every memory Holt would have had of Daizin would have so prominently featured her.

It wasn’t just Nye Zylah had endured a scolding from, either. Both Rin and Kej had shared a string of profanities at her sudden disappearance, quickly followed by hugs of sympathy over the situation with Holt. Even Daizin had been torn between being pissed and compassionate at her plight.

And Zylah had let them. Slipping away from them all before dawn, alone, hadn’t been her best idea, but she didn’t regret it. She wasn’t going to risk their safety, and she wasn’t going to keep Holt waiting another second, either. They could either accept that or be angry at her, and she acknowledged that they’d also probably settled somewhere in the middle for now.

“We had some… premature explosions,” Zack explained at the table.

Zylah could practically feel the grin Kej suppressed behind a hand beside her. Ass.

“They took out the tunnels leading to the palace the day Holt and Zylah escaped, along with two more beneath the palace gardens that we could have used. This is the closest remaining entrance to the palace.” Her brother tapped at the parchment sprawled out on the table before them, and though it hurt Zylah’s head to make out the layers and lines, it was clear enough.

“That’s a dead end,” she told her brother.

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