“It was my choice…” I whispered, the words catching in my throat. I had to believe it, or I’d go mad. “I’m returning to Nyxarra.”
His steps faltered. Then he stopped altogether, eyes burning. “Your choice?” His voice cracked on the word. “You think I wouldn’t have made it mine too? You think I wouldn’t have taken that vow instead—borne it, bled for it—just to keep you from this?”
“Hayat—” My eyes blurred with tears.
“I promised, Elli.” His voice broke open, raw and furious all at once. “Gods, Ipromised. That I would have died for it—for him—for you. To keep you safe. To keep this from being yours to carry.” He shook his head, a bitter laugh snagging in his throat. “And you—” His hands raked through his dark hair before falling uselessly to his sides. “You just had to fucking let me.”
The words landed like a strike. Shame flared hot under my skin. He was right. I hadn’t asked. Not once. Not when he would have given anything—more than training, more than friendship—to carry this weight with me. Hot tears streaked down my face before I could stop them.
Silence stretched, broken only by the waves crashing behind us. His chest rose and fell too fast, his anger sparking against something darker—grief, longing, love twisted into ache.
I swallowed hard. “I have to do this,” I whispered. “For him.”
For Aeryn.
Hayat’s jaw tightened, but no argument came. His gaze held mine—sorrow fierce, like I’d already slipped beyond his reach. He turned toward the sea, salt wind raking through his loose waves, brushing the line of his jaw. When he looked back, his warm brown eyes burned, stubble shadowing his cheeks.
He stepped close, cupping my face in both hands. His thumb swept the tears that wouldn’t stop.
“Don’t cry, Elli,” he murmured. Then he drew me against him, my face pressed into the steady rise of his chest. His embrace was the permission I hadn’t known I needed—permission to break.
He held me there, unshaken, before whispering the words that split me open all over again. “I wish you would have just let me love you.”
Below us, a wave broke and the white shattered, and I couldn’t tell if the sound was the ocean or something inside me giving way.
54
Aurelia
Midday came,and Aeryn still hadn’t returned. I shoved Hayat’s words deep into the place where I kept everything I couldn’t yet bear to face.
The light through the windows had thinned to pale shadows shrinking against the floorboards. Every creak of the wood sounded like a step that never arrived. I pressed my palm to the doorframe, fingers tight on the grain.
“He should be here by now,” I said.
Santiago and Lysara had gone walking earlier, slipping down the narrow path toward the village.
Gabriel lay in the grass just beyond the porch, hands folded beneath his head, his eyes fixed on the sun. I couldn’t imagine not feeling the warmth of the sun on my face for centuries.
The house felt hollow with the absence of Aeryn.
Malachi had taken the chaise by the hearth, a spread of supplies laid out before him. He moved with unhurried precision, cleaning and repacking what he could, pausing now and then to mark in a ledger what we would need for the return trip.
I stood at the door, restless.
Malachi looked up from the chaise, his gaze cutting sharp toward me. “Then we’ll go find him.”
Hayat rose from where he sat at the dining table and pulled his cloak on, face calm, eyes tracking me. “I have rounds,” he said at last. “More bodies in the village for the upcoming patron ceremonies in a few days time. I’ll keep an eye out.”
He stepped close. His hand brushed my arm, fleeting, and he bent to press his lips to my forehead. “Be careful, Elli.”
He straightened, his eyes cutting past me to Malachi. “Don’t trust them,” he said, low. “They’re not yours. They’ll never be yours.”
“Hayat—”
“I mean it.”
Beneath the hardness, only worry—sharpened by the time apart.