Page 81 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
Malice leans forward, his gaze sharpening as he whispers, “You mean because she does not know she has it. Because you never told her.”
I fall silent, unable to protest that. My uncle is right.
Even when I opened my mind to Aurelia, I did not tell her everything.
I could not.
Because there are simply some things that should be said in person rather than penned in a letter or poured into one’s thoughts in the midst of a life-or-death moment.
Like my love for her.
And the true reason behind the first Jewel War—the reason kept from all of our history books. The reason Friedemar desired her so. The reason Malice desires her now.
The reason my own Shade hungers to consume her soul.
In my silence, Malice smirks. “That is what I thought.” But then his expression hardens. “If you truly loved her, as you are so fond of reminding yourself, you wouldn’t have left her helpless. You would have trained her in the weaving arts. You would have told her what she is and how to guard her gift. You would have taught her all she needed to know to navigate this life.”
A smile quirks at the corner of his mouth, revealing a glimpse of his sharp canines as he taunts me further: “You would have taught her how to defend herself againstme.”
Chapter 24
Aurelia
Irace down a never-ending hallway of thorns, my breath rattling, my muscles burning, my wounded leg screaming. Sweat shimmers upon my skin. I have been running for hours.
But I know I cannot stop. If I stop, the monster chasing me will swallow me whole.
If I stop, I might never seehimagain.
“Bene!” I shout. “Bene, where are you?”
Wilted roses cling to the vines that compose this maze, filling the air with their rotting stink. But there are other roses, too—perfect roses like the sort Mama used to grow when we lived in the cottage.
Roses that drift toward me on an unseen breeze, their gentle passage so at odds with my own frantic flight. With them comes a voice—a voice that both steals my breath and soothes my soul.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so terribly sorry. For never telling you what you are. For never telling youwhoyou are. Nor what you’re capable of…”
I shake my head and swallow against the rising lump in my throat. Drawing in a deep breath, I push myself to run faster. I must find him.
“It’s all right,” I call back, my lips trembling around the words. “I forgive you. Just, please, tell me where you are!”
The voice flits toward me again. Not to answer my plea, but to explain: “It was fear that kept me silent all these years. Fear and pride.” The voice laughs. “And you would think I would have no fear left now. You would think I would finally have the courage to tell you the things I didn’t dare tell you even in the corridor. What more do I possibly have to lose? But that’s not true at all. I still have everything to lose.”
My chest tightens when the voice whispers, “I still might lose you.”
The key scrapes in the lock, jolting me awake.
Disoriented, confused, I shove myself into a sitting position. A strange room glitters all around me. Where am I?
It all comes rushing back. Malice. Bene. Friedemar.
My heart flutters as I glance about, hunting for Velda. Malice cannot find her; he will surely take her from me if he does.
But I frown when I don’t see her. The fire still crackles merrily within the hearth. The lanterns still cast warm pools of lightthroughout this luxurious space. But there is no fairy godmother in sight.
Is she already hiding?
Or did I merely imagine she was here?
