These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(29)

“She’s not just a friend,” Misha says. “She’s the one who killed Mordeus.”

The teacher’s eyes go big. “Oh gods! I didn’t realize . . .” She drops to one knee, still clinging to my hand, and brings my knuckles to her forehead. “This is such an honor. Thank you, thank you. You have no idea what you’ve done for my people. We are so indebted to you. Please tell me how I can honor you on this day and each day ahead.”

“I . . .” I look to Misha, unsure what to say. I thought Leta’s greeting was uncomfortable, but this . .

.

Misha shrugs, as if he’s not personally responsible for putting me in this awkward situation.

“Please stand,” I say. “You owe me nothing.”

“I owe you everything. Mordeus killed my parents, my brothers, my bonded partner, and my . . .”

She chokes on the word, but I already know it without her saying. Mordeus isn’t just the reason she had to leave her home. He killed her child.

Would she be kneeling if she knew that more unrest was coming? Would she thank me if she understood that by taking the path that allows me to stand here, I’ve doomed her people to more of the same? Perhaps the villain will be different this time around, but without anyone on the Throne of Shadows, the Unseelie Court doesn’t stand a chance against the queen.

“He was a monster,” she whispers.

“There are many monsters in this world,” I say, thinking of the creatures under those mountains, of the queen. “I killed only one, and while I’m glad he’s dead, he’s not the last. Please stand.”

She obeys, reluctantly, but her head remains bowed. “The prophecy told us you would come, but I wasn’t sure I’d live to see it.”

I cut my gaze to Misha. What prophecy?

I’m not sure what she’s referring to. Could be a distorted version of several different tales about mortals born to slay wicked kings.

Huh. Misha’s magic may be creepy, but it’s convenient.

Isn’t it? Misha’s deep voice asks in my head.

Amira steps into the schoolhouse and smiles when she spots us. “There you are.”

“Is everything okay?” Misha asks his wife.

Amira nods, and when the silence stretches, I realize they’re having a silent conversation of their own.

Della finally releases my hand and steps back, her head still bowed.

“Do you ever need help?” I shift awkwardly, unsure what I’m offering.

Della finally lifts her head. “Help with . . . what do you mean, milady?”

Misha and Amira are staring at me now, and I feel foolish, but I continue. “In the classroom. If you ever needed someone to read with the children or—”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Della says at the same time Misha says, “That would be amazing, Abriella. Why don’t you return tomorrow?”

Della’s cheeks are bright red, but she nods. “It would be an honor.”

“Come, Abriella,” Amira says, leading me from the building. “Allow us to show you the rest of the settlement.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” I call over my shoulder to Della.

“The pleasure was mine, milady.”

I hustle away as fast as I can.

“They always need help in the classroom,” Misha says, joining us outside.

The three of us walk together, and I try to breathe, but the more I think, the smaller my lungs become. The sky is colored by the vibrant rainbow of pastels that trails in the wake of the setting sun, but as beautiful as it is, I wish night were here. I wish I could see the stars.

“She thinks I saved her,” I blurt when we’ve walked a good distance from the school. “But it’s my fault they can’t go home yet. It’s my fault their throne—their whole damn kingdom is broken.”

Amira stops in front of me, turns, and takes my hand. “Abriella,” she says, and with her voice, her touch, my anger and self-loathing washes away, replaced by warmth and . . . peace.

My eyes go wide, meeting hers, and she smiles.

It’s a lovely gift, isn’t it? Misha’s voice asks in my mind, and I nod without thinking how odd it might look.

“Do you think these people would be better off if you’d let Mordeus live?” Amira asks. “If you’d never come to our realm in search of your sister?”

I shake my head. I can’t think about Jas. Saving her wasn’t a choice. I simply had to. But what happened after— Amira’s eyes remain locked on mine. “No one knew what would happen. This is not your fault.”

“They want to go home. Can’t you feel it?” I swallow hard, not even sure what I’m saying. I don’t understand this feeling. I didn’t even realize I had it until just now.

“I can feel it,” she says, cocking her head to the side. “But that’s my gift. I’m an empath. But you’re saying you can too?”

“It’s in the air, like a cry for help.”

She looks to Misha, and they exchange a long look before she turns back to me. “And what am I feeling right now?” She holds my gaze, and when I shake my head, she takes my hand and presses my palm against her chest. “Do you feel me? ”

“No.” I shake my head again. “I’m sorry. I . . .”