“It was all a lie,” I murmured.
“Not all of it.”
When I looked at Tucker, he held up his hand while he continued. “Shedoescare for you. That wasn’t a lie; I saw it for myself. You’ll do what you will, butthatis a fact, and no one will ever convince me otherwise.”
“What would you do?”
“I don’t know, but I think the better question is… do you still want her help, or are you prepared to move on without her against Ivan and the others?”
That was a question I couldn’t answer.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
Ellery
I setmy small piece of luggage down by the door. It would be at least another hour before the sun rose. I stared at my suitcase before turning to survey my home.
Inhaling deeply, I tried to detect the scents of cinnamon, fruit, freshly baked bread, and love that once permeated the place; the cold, musty odor was all I found. I hoped it changed when my mother came home; she would need that warmth, but I suspected the unique scent would never fully return.
It had altered after my father died; his clove scent had faded a lot, and it would change once I was gone too. Our family was breaking apart, and that was why this place felt so cold and empty.
My shoulders slumped as the ghosts of the past floated around me. Childish laughter and the gruffer sound of my father’s joy filled my ears. I sometimes forgot what he’d sounded like; at other times, it was as clear as day.
My fingers itched to touch him, but no one else stood there when I turned to face the house. I leaned against the door as I struggled to catch my breath.
At one time, happiness permeated every inch of this place, but now a melancholy air enshrouded it, or maybe I was projecting my emotions onto my home. It was just a building; it couldn’t feel love.
Pushing myself away from the door, I trudged down the hall and into the dining room. A table large enough to seat ten was in the middle of the room. A massive, gray stone fireplace took up most of the wall across from me, but no fire burned in its hearth.
A portrait of my family hung in the center of the fireplace. My father had it commissioned when I was ten. In the painting, I sat in a chair with my shoulders back and my mother and father standing behind me.
Each had a hand on my shoulder while they beamed at the artist. I smiled too, but I’d hated every second of the hours I sat for that painting.
Looking at the painting made my legs ache as I recalled the hardness of the chair and the stiffness in my back. I’d forced that smile while dreaming about running into the Revenant Woods, where I could lose myself for a few hours.
I’d probably never get to run through those woods again and experience their wonder and brutality. If I got the chance to flee, I couldn’t take it. If I tried to escape and hide in the woods, they’d use my mother to lure me out again.
The second I entered that palace again, I would become a prisoner for the rest of my life. Tears burned my eyes, and the painting blurred until I blinked them away to focus on the portrait.
I’dhatedthis painting when it was happening, but I loved it now. My parents were so proud, beautiful, and glowing in that portrait.
None of us knew what was to come or how badly our lives would be ripped apart. While I’d considered myself miserable then, I had no idea thetruemisery life had in store.
I considered taking the portrait with me, but it was too big, and I couldn’t take it from my mother. Besides, I doubted the king would let me keep it.
My absence from this home was going to devastate her. She’d survive while I lived, but like my father’s death, she’d never get over this.
I had no idea if we’d be allowed to see each other again; I hoped so, but I doubted it. The powerful men and women running this realm were far too cruel. They didn’t comprehend the concept of love.
Which was something I couldn’t wrap my head around as some of them were married, and immortals didn’t marry without love. So theydidlove but didn’t care about anyone else who did.
I didn’t understand any of it, and I hoped I never did because that would mean I’d become a completely different version of who I was now. No matter how tough life became, I would never be cold and calculating like them.
With the heavy hand of doom hanging over me, I trudged back toward the front door. Before I left for the palace, I had to speak to Scarlet. I dreaded doing it, but she had to know what I was doing and why.
She would be mad I’d kept my lightning-bearer ability from her, but I couldn’t leave without telling her in person. Once I revealed myself to the king, the truth of what I was would spread rapidly throughout Tempest; she couldn’t learn it like that.
I dreaded parting on bad terms with someone else I loved, especially after what happened with Ryker, but I wouldn’t be a coward who hid from this, either. It was time for the truth to come out… or at least most of it.
