Page 75 of The Spark that Ignites
It was a tree the girth and height of a clocktower with deep crimson veins threading the twisted trunk. Countless brancheshoused infinite shimmering leaves mirroring the night sky like they channelled the stars down to this earth, housing their power within them. The tree’s magic thrummed through every pore in her body like a heartbeat. It was both beautiful and grotesque—a contradiction in itself.
“This is a Tree of Eternal Blood. It’s said that the Goddess Ellynne resides inside this trunk.” Vesper lowered to his knees and removed his glove to place his palm on the porous bark. “We speak to the gods here. Or try. I thought you may want to. Since your gods never answered.”
And apparently these new gods hadn’t either but either way, the mortal gods had forsaken her. Emmery sank to the ground beside Vesper and laid her hand on a root. Her eyes fell closed as the magic joined her veins, the power thundering through her, stronger than the Whispering Spring. Emmery inhaled and exhaled pure lust—the magic like forbidden ecstasy as she shivered.
“We come here to pray and scatter the ashes of our Fallen loved ones. It’s said they’re absorbed and placed back into the spring for rebirth.” He patted the tree trunk. “We also come here every Blood Moon and make an offering to Kahlia.”
She peered up from where she kneeled. “What about those who aren’t Fallen?”
Vesper shook his head. “Deimos doesn’t require offerings. But Izzy and I did since we’re both. And of course, Cal too since he’s Fallen.” Vesper watched her with an intense stare. Did he feel the tree’s power too? The delicious wrath that made herkhaosflame purr.
“What do you pray for?” he whispered, placing the question delicately. “I know you do each night. I heard you.”
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “I pray for my mother and my sister. For Pellius to care for them.” The bark scratched her palm as she ran her hand down it. “That’s about it.”
He frowned, his eyes searching her profile. “And for you?”
Emmery shook her head. “I decided my soul was damned long ago. Before my mother died. Before my sister—” Her voice broke with all the words she couldn’t say. “There was never any point.”
He shifted closer, setting his hand beside hers. “It’s okay to forgive yourself, Emmery. And it’s never too late for the gods to forgive you either.”
She released the tree to hold that familiar ache in her chest, not allowing herself to feel what he said or let it inside. Her past was unforgivable. Irredeemable. And she hadn’t changed. She couldn’t. “I’m not worth praying for,” she put simply.
“I happen to think you’re wrong,” he breathed. “And if you won’t pray for yourself, I will.”
The offer rocked her. It was so ... genuine. Such a miniscule thing for him to say and do, but somehow those few words were saturated with so much more. And she couldn’t put it into words, so she rested her hand atop his and silently thanked him for saving her in more ways than one.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Emmery clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling her heavy breath. Her heart thumped against her ribcage, begging to escape—adrenaline, anticipation, and a tiny kernel of primal fear in the center of it.
Gathering her knees to her chest, she made herself small, ducking her head as the blackened tree trunk sheltered her. Only slivers of purple, blue, and pale green lit the lavender haze of the Sacred Lands. Even the stalactites dripped a magical shimmer.
But all she had to do was stay hidden a little longer. Her pulse quickened, surpassing the ticking of her pocket watch clutched in her hand.
A few more seconds. Just a few more.
The brush rustled behind her, bioluminescent pollen and dandelion seeds scattering into the warm air. The second hand rounded the twelve and the footsteps grew closer.
She was out of time.
Emmery sprinted.
Her feet struck the ground, her boots stirring a flurry of pollen into her vision as she darted under a rogue tree branch and leapt into the air. Her arms pumped, pulse a frantic hummingbird, as she stretched and—
A gentle arm snatched her waist.
Or at least what seemed like an arm.
The air rushed from her lungs followed by an unrestrained scream that bled into a giggle as she melted into his hold.
“Got you,” Shade purred, his voice low in her ear. “You’re making this too easy. You could at least put in a little effort, love.”
Attempting to wriggle free, she snapped back, “Not all of us can blend with the shadows, Shade. I spent nearly half the night searching for you the first time.” After he’d wrung her for information on where she was staying, even though he wasn’t convinced he would remember when they woke. Every scrap of her being longed for him to somehow remember and come find her. She spun in his arms, blinking innocently up at him. “Best two out of three?”
Shade gave her that grin that set her blood ablaze. “We never did discuss incentives.” He leaned down, his nose brushing hers. “I’m doing all this hard work chasing you and—”
“You poor phantom. Worked to the bone,” Emmery teased, wrapping her arms around his neck. “What would be a suitable reward?”
