A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(106)

“This is foolhardy,” Clanna Sun hisses at me. “Your mother would never have—”

“I am not my mother,” I snap at her. “And you will remember your place.”

She clamps her mouth shut.

Jamison gallops down the hill, and when he reaches the group that’s split off, they stop. I can’t hear what they’re saying from here, and my heart seems to stop beating as I wait. We could never outrun this army. We could never fight. They could slaughter us all right here.

But then one soldier peels away from the small group, his horse sprinting across the turf. As he draws closer, I see the colors of his armor, the black of his hair.

I slip out of the saddle. “Move,” I say to my officers. “Move.”

I stride forward just as his horse crests the hill, and Grey leaps to the ground before his mount has even drawn to a stop.

My heart flutters wildly, and my knees are weak, but I force myself forward until I’m in front of him. His eyes are exhausted and full of pain, and there’s blood everywhere: in his hair, on his hands, in broad streaks across his armor. I press my hands to his face as if I have to prove to myself that he’s here, that he’s alive, that we’re together. “You’re well,” I breathe, willing the words to be true. “You’re well.”

He presses his hands over mine. “I’m well.”

“Grey,” says Noah, at my back. His voice is tight. “Jake?”

Grey’s eyes flick past me. “Jake is fine. He’s at the base of the hill. He didn’t know you were here, or he would have ridden up.” Grey hesitates, and his eyes return to mine. His hands tighten over my fingers. “The enchantress is dead. We lost Iisak.”

My chest clenches. I knew this fight would not be without loss. I stare up into Grey’s wounded eyes and think of the reason he came here. “And Rhen?”

“He survived.” He pauses. “We’re … no longer at war.” There’s so much weight in his voice that I know there is more to say, but Grey seems to realize we’re surrounded by soldiers from both Syhl Shallow and Emberfall. His eyebrows flicker into a frown “What … what happened? Why are you here?”

My heart lightens, just a bit. I want to tell him that I figured out his message, that I know Ellia Maya was working against us. I want to tell him that we’ve brought peace, that the soldiers were willing to pause. That if Rhen is no longer ready to wage war, that we can finally put our differences aside for the good of all our people. I want to throw my arms around his neck and never let go. I want to hear his heartbeat and feel his breath and sleep for a thousand days at his side.

Instead, my stomach twists, and I jerk back, slapping a hand over my mouth.

“Lia Mara,” he says, alarmed.

I inhale to answer, to tell him I’m fine.

Instead, I throw up all over his boots.

“I’m sorry,” I gasp, mortified. “I’m sorry. I’ve—I’ve been sick with worry—”

And then, to my horror, I do it again.

“Noah!” Grey calls, and there’s worry in his voice. His hands hold back my hair.

“Oh yeah,” says Noah, and his voice isn’t concerned at all. If anything, he sounds amused. “About that.”





CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

RHEN

Weeks pass, and the castle again fills with people to replace those we’ve lost. Soldiers and guards, servants and footmen, so many new faces, new names, new voices to ring through the halls. Harper is delighted to discover that Freya and the children were among those who were ushered out of the castle by the spy Chesleigh, along with much of the staff I’d thought were killed when Lilith cut a swath through the castle.

Harper stays with me frequently, but just as often, she is with her brother, with her friends, spending her hours among the people. As always, I still feel every loss acutely, so I keep to my rooms. More so, even, because this time I do not turn my thoughts to rebuilding Emberfall, and instead I leave that to Grey. I look at the guards who survived, and I think of those who were lost. I see a servant in the halls, and I remember a body I dragged out of the castle. Instead of meeting with advisors and Grand Marshals, I cling to the shadows of my chambers.

I thought there would be an element of relief to this, but there’s not.

I feel trapped just as effectively as I was by the curse.

Where can I go? What will I do? When I leave this room, people stare—or quickly look away.

Harper said that scars mean I survived something terrible. They’re also a reminder that I was something terrible.

A knock sounds at my door one evening, long past the time most of the castle has fallen into sleep. Even with Lilith gone, my own sleep is fitful and restless, plagued with nightmares, so on the nights when I am alone, I often read in front of the fire until my eye gives me no choice.

But tonight, I straighten, and curiosity makes me call, “Enter.”

The door latch clicks, and Grey comes through. He’s alone.

“I knew you would be awake,” he says, and I can’t read anything in his voice.

“Your magic?” I say.

He almost smiles, but there’s no humor to it. His eyes search mine. “No, in fact. More … an eternity of familiarity.”

Oh. Right. I look back at the fire.