Slowly, he lowered her, and when her feet were firmly on the ground, she fought to right her mind. It swam in an endless, hazy abyss. Her skin burned where he squeezed her arms in reassurance before letting her go. There was a lump in her throat that threatened to steal her air.
It’d been there most of the day, hidden by the relentless pace she set. Now the world was quieter, and the unknown loomed before her.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
She turned to Cinnamon and pulled a carrot from her satchel. Exhausted from the day, Cinnamon took it in one bite. Luci ran her hand over the white strip running down her head andgrounded herself in the course hair and strength of her powerful body.
“Luci?” Ira asked quietly.
She hated it when he called her that, like they were friends, like he hadn’t walked into her life and changed everything. Like he knew her.
“It’s fine,” she said.
It wasn’t fine at all, but soon the horses were set up with enough food and water that they would be fine until they returned to Hazelbrook. Though the way Cinnamon was tearing through it, she might be a little grumpy by the time they returned.
Saddled with a bag over her shoulder, Luci followed Ira right into the mountain. There wasn’t time to contemplate what to expect, only that when she set foot inside, it felt like stepping into Blythe. Familiar and safe. The light from outside was just enough that a narrow staircase formed before them, winding ahead. A torch and matches sat at its base.
Ira bent down and struck the match over the torch like the world was always conveniently stocked for him. Like this wasn’t ominous and strange.
Within seconds, the torch took to the flame, and the stairway went on and on, slowly climbing the mountain. More concerning were the words that were carved into the first step.
Luci swallowed hard.
“Harm done by greed cannot be undone. Yet the Cinderella rights one wrong.” Ira read, his voice hoarse with wonder.
Wonder that would quickly turn to horror when he realized this was meant for Brielle, his Cinderella. She wasn’t meant to be here. Brielle was meant to.
Yet when he turned to her, his handsome face was alight with a joy that leapt from the sparks in his eyes.
“Even you can’t deny this,” he teased.
Luci swallowed hard, feeling trapped between his joy and her mountain of lies. It would have been easier if he were like Lucien. Entitled, spoiled, obnoxious. Instead, Ira was everything a prince from a storybook should be. Kind, charming, generous, patient, witty. Whenever Luci read to Brielle, she would think that if she were the heroine, she wouldn’t have fallen so easily. She would have asked more questions and held the beast, the prince, the knight more accountable, instead of swooning with blushing cheeks.
There on the steps of a mountain beneath flickering torchlight, Luci knew she wasn’t any better than any heroine to come before her. She’d fallen for the prince just as hard, and there was no denying any longer that her heart beat faster when he smiled at her. That she wondered what it would be like to touch him and to be loved by him.
“No, I can’t,” she said.
Without allowing herself to say another word, Luci took the first steps up the mountain, and each one cut like glass into her heart. Something broke inside her on that first step carved with words that sank their teeth into her. Lucinda Blackthorn could no longer deny that a prince stole her heart. Just like she couldn’t deny that he was engaged to her best friend, and the reason for living.
Thankfully, he didn’t say much on their climb. Instead, he followed behind her, keeping her pace so that the torchlight would always show her next step. The stairway wound and curled up the mountain in a dizzying and breath-stealing dance. Every few feet, Luci would pause, resting her hand around the rough stone walls and catching her breath. Surprisingly, Ira said nothing. Didn’t tease her or even encourage her to sit and rest. Instead, he followed her lead.
There was a musty scent to the infinite stairwell, but as they climbed higher, cinnamon wafted with a cool breeze thatshouldn’t have existed. Ira gave a sharp intake of breath, but still he said nothing. She should have asked him what was wrong. She should have cared more. The reality was, Luci was too busy surviving the burning in her traitorous heart. Surviving the realization that she’d fallen into something unforgivable.
Minutes, hours, maybe even days later, the breeze grew in strength, blowing her stray hair back from her face. A faint earthy smell mixed with the now strong scent of cinnamon. Out of breath and out of reasons to lie to herself, Luci crested the corner, and suddenly, there was no more breath left in her lungs to give.
“What’s wrong?” Ira asked.
He stood behind her, unable to see what she saw. Silently, Luci shuffled to the side and grabbed his arm, pulling him up to her step by the sleeve of his shirt. The space was too narrow for both of them, but they crammed together, chest to chest. Luci held her breath as if that would save her from his proximity. She couldn’t help but watch his brows furrow in confusion rise as his face smoothed out, no hint of laugh lines as he saw what she had moments before.
His green eyes were a beacon beneath the torch flame as they widened, and his mouth parted. Seconds ticked by, and neither of them dared to breathe. Luci, for fear of losing her resolve, and Ira, for the wonder that was building like an inferno within him.
It was lovely to watch. The way his eyes darted back and forth, the silver lining in his eyes, the pressing of his lips as he fought back emotion. The moment he stepped out of the maze of emotions, he wrapped his hand around hers and took the last step.
And then there was no more running. No more hiding.
Just as she’d seen it weeks ago, Ira stepped forward, torch illuminating his beautiful face as his head tilted back and he laughed. A joyous and triumphant sound that was paintedbefore a backdrop of a cave lagoon glittering with blue diamonds that shone against dark walls, making the water appear to be sparkling.
It was exactly as it had been in the vision within the room of mirrors. Every detail is perfectly executed. The vision was real, and it was a map. It meant that they were really going to do this. They weren’t going to be late. They would be right on time, and Brielle would live.