His silver eyes narrow.
“It was the first night,” I say, “when I was staying in your castle…when I sat at that dinner and then you escorted me back to my room.”
My hands fall to my front, tangling with each other as I lift my chin and admit, “I saw two threads then, coming from Ilyria. One where the fae and wraiths made a deal with her and one where you didn’t.”
He turns to me fully then, straightening to his full height. “Tell me.”
“The future of the decision made then resulted in me seeing an image of your castle burning and crumbling. I don’t know when or why.”
The words hang between us as I see Sylvin’s head jerk back in surprise and Torryn’s brows raise. Riven’s gaze is so closely guarded now that I can’t even see the hurt that was just lingering there.
I expect a multitude of questions from everyone, not the silence that follows and definitely not the walls I see rising up. My throat clogs with emotion. Part of me wants to take it all back and move forward as we were, but as I swallow and pull my shoulders back, I choose to stand in my truth.
They can take it or leave it.
Azyric takes in a deep breath before taking two slow steps toward me.
“You saw our home in flames,” he says slowly, voice low and hollow with disbelief. “And you kept it to yourself.”
His tone aches with betrayal, yet there’s a calculating edge to his gaze, like I’ve just confirmed what he needed to know about me.
“Do you have any idea what that knowledge could’ve changed?” he continues, louder now, silver eyes catching the firelight. “What you’ve risked by staying quiet?”
My heart lodges in my throat at the implication that I did this purposefully.
“I didn’t know what it meant,” I say, voice trembling. “I didn’t know any of you or who I was, which in case you’ve all forgotten, I still don’t know that! I’ve tried to navigate all of this to the best of my ability, and maybe I’ve made missteps, but it was never with the intent to cause harm.”
“Save your excuses!” Azyric snaps as his shadows suddenly lash out.
I step back as Torryn’s growl breaks through the air before I can answer, deep and full of warning.
“Watch your tone,” he says, stepping forward, golden eyes lit with a heat I rarely see from him. “She didn’t owe you anything then and she doesn’t owe any of us a thing now, as much as weallseem to forget that. She is sharing with us out of her own choice.”
Hope soars in my heart, hearing his words.
I watch ice stretch along the floor at Sylvin’s feet, frost blooming toward Azyric. “And what would you have done if she had shared that information, Azyric?” he asks mildly, but the chill in his voice is anything but casual. “Locked her in a tower until she understood it? The future she saw is yet to happen, which means there is still time to change it.”
My eyes prick with heat, despite my best efforts to keep the welling emotion at bay.
They’re defending me. Maybe those walls I saw were only temporary.
A pulse of heat flashes beside me as Riven’s hand finds my lower back, his body half shielding mine.
“She came here in good faith, despite deciding that she won’t choose a side. We know she’s spent no time with the humans and they have none of this information. So, do us all a favor and stop treating her like she’s firmly on their side.”
My lower lip wobbles with that.
Azyric’s mouth curls into something that might have been a smirk if it wasn’t so full of contempt.
“You’re all fools,” he huffs.
His gaze cuts between them and then back to me.
“She’s made it clear she won’t help us, yet you’re ready to draw blood for her.” His voice drops, bitter and laced with venom. “You’re loyal to someone who hasn’t promised you anything. Can’t you see it? She’s not your ally. She’s our distraction. A spell you’ve all fallen under.”
He laughs, cold and joyless.
“And I’m the only one still trying to see her clearly.”
