Of Thorn and Thread (Daughters of Eville #4) - Chanda Hahn Page 0,103

truth?” Mother moved to stand over me. She was still an intimidating figure. “You are an empath. It’s your destiny to heal, not harm—and yes, that destiny leads down the path toward madness, but not always. When you use your gifts for good, you can live a full, long life, but when you harm others”—she gestured toward my crazed mother—“it brings nothing good.”

“You should talk,” I said bitterly. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about her. You told me my mother was dead.” I pointed to Tatiana, who I had moved to the table. Her head propped on a red pillow, her petite hands crossed across her chest, her long white hair carefully covering the burns and scars that covered her arms.

Lorelai shook her head. “The sleeping spell is called the sleeping death.”

Rhea kneeled by the spindle and began to sweep back the dried leaves. When it was free of debris, she broke off the original spindle from the thicket. With a wave of her fingers, she easily transfigured it back into a spindle and wound the remaining gold thread around it, tucking it into her apron pocket.

“Plus,” Lorelai continued. “It wouldn’t have done you any good to know about your mother too soon.”

“You said she went mad.”

She pointed at the missing roof and the destruction of the main hall. “She did.”

“I guess I will never understand your motives, or why you took me,” I said, as angry tears threatened to fall.

“When I brought Tatiana back to the fae court to imprison her, an injured basajaun approached me, holding out an infant. Your mother believed you were dead, but the basajaun must have protected you during the attack. It was that grief, losing you, that sent her spiraling out of control. I had already sealed the vault, or I would have placed you inside with her to sleep until the spell wore off in a hundred years.”

“I wish you had,” I said sadly, wiping away tears that had fallen, my rage waning.

“Nonsense. If I had, you wouldn’t have been able to save the day here. Although, someone will need to stay and clean up this mess.” Mother Eville frowned and looked around at the destroyed palace as we headed up the stairs to the tower.

“Not me,” Rhea piped up.

I sighed as we passed the stairwell window, and I looked out at the empty courtyard. Those sleeping there had been moved to the closest shelters, inside their tents, or inside archways so they were out of the elements. It was slow work, but I did it.

We walked into the same tower room where I had stayed, and I stared at Liam sleeping peacefully on the bed. His aura drew me to him, and I’d spent many hours sitting by his bedside watching his dreams. I rested my hand on his forehead, and I caught the glimpses of his thoughts and dreams.

And they were always about me.

Heat rose to my cheeks as I blushed. He was dreaming of kissing me.

“Aura, are you listening to me?” Mother chastised and moved to the other side of the bed.

“Hmm?” I dreamily looked up at her.

“I said, what are you going to do now?”

Glancing down at Liam, I dropped my hand and felt my throat constrict. “I’m going to leave, and then I want Rhea to release the castle from the sleeping spell.”

“I can do that.” Rhea nodded, her brain already working on the counterspell needed. Then, she pointed to Liam. “What about him? He will be mad when he wakes up to find you gone.”

“He won’t remember I ever existed.” I leaned forward and brushed a kiss across his forehead, whispering the words of the forgetting spell.

His breathing changed, and as I closed my eyes and touched his forehead, I watched his dream change. Liam and I were standing in a field surrounded by yellow flowers. He was watching the sunset, and he lifted my chin to kiss me.

It was only a dream, but it felt real. I could feel the brush of his lips across mine. I could see myself through Liam’s eyes, and the forgetting spell took hold. The setting sun behind me blinded him, and he couldn’t focus on me. Then my face and features faded and became less descript. My image blurred, and like a wind catching the seeds of a dandelion—I was gone.

I felt a tear of regret slip down my face.

His confusion hit me first. Gray filled my mind, and he searched for the nameless person. My brows