No, Amara. Guardian of the Grove. Jewel of the Tenders.
You did not endure all of this just to be broken by doubt now.
Not when there is still so much to live for.
Far too much to lose.
A flicker of movement at the cavern’s entrance snaps me from my thoughts. My gaze locks on the approaching figure, the shadows barely stirring as Anethesis glides forward.
It must be time.
Time to recite those damned words, again and again, until my throat burns dry and my spirit splinters beneath the weight of them.
As always, he keeps his distance. Never straying too close to the cage.
Does he still fear my fire? The green flames that marked him seared into his memory as much as his skin?
He does not need to worry. I remember nothing. I don’t know how I did it, don’t know if I could do it again, even if I tried.
And yet, for the first time, he dares to step onto the narrow rock ledge circling the lake beneath me.
“Good evening, princess,” he says, dipping his chin in that way of his, always just a sliver of respect, never more. “How was your dinner?”
“Fine,” I bite out.
“That is good to hear. I have instructed the cooks to…”
“Véthari lios an’thera.” I cut him off.
He steeples his fingers, nodding once. “Véthari lios an’thera.”
And so it begins. The same rehearsed ritual. The same exchange, repeated until the words feel like nothing. Until I feel like nothing.
Then, Ashen hisses, his back arching, smoke flickering like firelight along his spine. Anethesis halts mid-step, watching him with thinly veiled disdain.
“What is wrong with… it?”
“With Ashen?” I reply coolly, running a hand down his twitching back. “I imagine he’s had enough. Of bargains. Of lies. Of this cage.”
Anethesis’s lip curls. “Has he now?”
I nod, letting silence bloom between us before I finally speak. “He yearns to be free. To fly. To feed on flesh, down to the bone.”
Anethesis’ throat bobs with a swallow. “How colorful. Unfortunately for your pet, the collar around his neck makes such appetites… impossible.”
I lift my chin. “Yes. The collars. They are a problem. Only you can remove them, I assume?”
His gaze narrows. “I crafted the enchantment. Naturally, only I can undo it.” A beat. “Your questions concern me, Princess. I hope you’re not planning anything foolish. Not after we’ve come to… trust each other.”
A laugh nearly escapes me, but I swallow it whole.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say with a smile too soft to be sincere. “But what if there were another accident? What if I summoned the green fire again?”
His hand twitches toward his face, fingers hovering near the jagged ridges of his scars.
“You’d have to remove the collar, wouldn’t you?” I press. “Or risk me turning this place to ash. Including myself.”
Anethesis frowns, suspicion clouding his expression. “It’s true. I cannot allow you to come to harm. However, we’ve learned, haven’t we? You have no catalyst. No one to heal. No one to channel your gifts through. Even your beast is more smoke than flesh now.”
