Page 69 of A Storm of Fire and Ash
My cottage stood at the end.
Or what remained of it.
Charred wood jutted from the ground like broken teeth. The roof had caved in completely. Smoke-stained stone still held up two walls, the others reduced to blackened rubble. A single chair sat outside, warped and crumbling. Flowers had once grown here. My mother’s garden. Now it was just ash and rot and silence.
The wind stirred, and I inhaled the scorched scent of memory. I stepped forward on shaking legs.
I did this.
I caused this.
The creature’s words echoed in my mind,‘Forgive yourself and come find me.’
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t forgive myself.
My chest tightened as I stepped over the threshold, boots crunching against the brittle floor. The hearth was a pile of collapsed brick. The rafters were gone. I could see the sky. I braced myself for it—for her. For the sight of my mother’s body, curled and burned and frozen in death. But there was nothing. No bones. No remnants. Just scorched earth and a hole where she should’ve been. Panic hit me like a blade. I spun around, heart racing. Where was she? Who had taken her? What had they done with her?
“Elara?”
I froze.
Landen stood in the doorway, breath catching in his throat. His eyes went wide, disbelief washing across his face like a wave.
“You’re okay?!” he rushed forward and caught me in his arms, pulling me tightly against him. “Gods, Elara—I thought you ran off somewhere and got yourself killed! Where have you been?!”
His scent—flour, cinnamon, and something warm—filled my lungs. For a second, I let myself sink into him. Just a second.
“I’ve been…” My voice caught. “I’ve been at the palace. I— I was with the prince.”
Landen pulled back slightly. His smile faltered, eyes dimming just enough for me to see the sting.
“Oh.”
Silence pressed between us.
Then I gripped his arm, the desperation bubbling to the surface. “Landen, my mother… her body. It’s not here. Do you—do you know what happened to her?”
He hesitated. “Yeah. A scary-looking guy came. Big. Long white hair. Real serious type. Said he was going to bury her properly. I didn’t argue.”
My breath caught. Zayn. It had to be.
“I need to know where,” I whispered.
“I don’t know,” he said gently. “He didn’t say.”
I turned back to the ruin. Landen stepped closer. “I should have looked for you,” he murmured. “I should have told you how I felt. Told you how much you mean to me.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. “You didn’t know what was to happen,” I said. “I didn’t either. But… the fire… it’s my fault. She’s dead because of me.” A single tear rolled down.
“You think this was your fault?” His brows knit together as he wiped away my tear.
“It is,” I croaked, voice cracking. “I killed her. I killed her, Landen.” The grief surged—raw and violent. My chest caved around it, breath shuddering.
He reached for me, pulled me into his arms again, holding me tighter this time.
“I can’t take it,” I whispered. “The pain—make it stop. Please, make it stop.”
He looked down at me, eyes searching, lips parted as if he wanted to say something.
