Sev tried to do the same. His stomach clenched and his insides heaved, but nothing came up. His throat was so tight that he could barely breathe, and his limbs were numb with shock.
Turning away from the harrowing sight of Trix’s mangled, lifeless body, Sev staggered backward, tripping over branches and stumbling through the darkness. She lives. Did Trix really mean that, or was she trying to get a rise out of Captain Belden? She’d told Sev how both sisters died in the Blood War. It didn’t make any sense.
The bag on his shoulder weighed Sev down, physically and mentally, as he forced himself away from it all—away from the blood and the death and the knowledge that Trix would never see another phoenix again.
You know what you have to do.
Sev had to warn the Riders; he had to get the eggs to safety.
Shouts rang out, loud and nearer than the rest—had they seen him? Sev didn’t look back, didn’t hesitate, just ran as fast as he could through the forest. Footsteps—were those his, or a pursuer’s?—echoed in his ears, along with crackling leaves and snapping twigs.
He came upon a small clearing with thick grass and gnarled roots underfoot. At the far end was a cliff that hung over an expanse of black. It was so dark, Sev couldn’t be certain of the drop or what was at the bottom—more soft grass? The river? Or was it a trench of jagged, life-ending rocks?
You know what you have to do.
More shouting, more footsteps. Sev wasn’t moving, and the sounds were getting closer. The clang of drawn weapons and the thrum of a released bowstring. Something thudded into Sev’s shoulder, and the momentum made the decision for him. Searing pain ripped through his body, pushing the breath from his lungs, and his heart flew into his throat as he tumbled blindly over the edge.
In ancient Pyra there was a position of great prestige in service to the queen. Unlike her flaming warriors, who stood blazing and bright by her side, this person worked in the darkness, in the shadows cast by such shining lights.
A poison brewer, a whisper catcher—a spymaster. This person moved unseen, unnoticed among the Pyraean ranks of fighting queens and flying heroes. As such, their deeds are often lost to history, and even their names exist in no surviving record books—except one. Shadowheart.
Pyraean surnames are either inherited through ancient lineage and powerful magical bloodlines, or they are earned. A Shadowheart could rise up from the lowliest of births and stand proud among the queen’s most loyal servants.
It is said that when the empire was founded, the position of Shadowheart was no longer utilized. The council demanded transparency, so such clandestine affairs were no longer tolerated.
Then again, it is the nature of the Shadowheart to be unknown and unremembered. Perhaps they have been here all along.
—“Queen and Council,” from Government, Then and Now by Olbek, High Priest of Mori, published 137 AE
I would have given her everything. Everything.
- CHAPTER 33 -
VERONYKA
ERSKEN WAS BY VERONYKA’S side for the remainder of the day, giving her no opportunity to sit with Xephyra and explain their circumstances. Maybe Xephyra was happy here, or maybe she was desperate to leave. Veronyka wanted to know. There was so much she’d missed out on, weeks of their lives together lost.
Though she was eager to have some alone time with Xephyra, Veronyka wasn’t thrilled at the idea of burdening her bondmate with the harsh realities of what being in the breeding cages would mean. She’d just have to take it slow and get a sense of how Xephyra was feeling before she caused more pain and fear. Her phoenix needed some time to recover. They both did.
Veronyka figured her best chance to spend time alone with Xephyra would be after nightfall, when the majority of the stronghold’s occupants retired. She wiled away her evening in the kitchens, begging food from Morra and helping where she could. When Tristan entered the dining hall, she watched him as he craned his neck and scanned the tables, only to drop dejectedly into a seat next to the other apprentices. Was he looking for her? The thought made her ache.
Later, when the stronghold was quiet, Veronyka made her way back to the Eyrie. She was halfway down the steps to the enclosure when a sudden tremor rippled through the bond.
Xephyra.
Veronyka pressed a hand to the wall, steadying herself, and turned inward. She found the