“Tell—tell my son,” Flynn choked, and I shook my head more violently.
“Don’t talk, it will only make it worse.” I pressed my fingers around the dagger still protruding from his neck, trying to slow the bleeding. I glanced toward Julian, but he was still unconscious, unmoving.
“Fuck!” I snarled loudly, helplessness dragging me down with each ragged breath.
I had locked him away, kept him from everyone. Our last words to each other were spoken in anger… and now…
My uncle's eyes went unfocused and I watched as his skin started to pale.
“Ja—x—Jaxon,” Flynn breathed, and I couldn’t do anything but listen and watch as my uncle died.
“What do you want me to tell Jaxon?” I asked, my voice breaking under the pounding grief that was now blooming in my chest.
“Te—tel—tell my son, I’m sorry,” Flynn coughed, his eyes glimmering with tears. Blood sprayed out from his lips, and I gritted my teeth, not understanding what he was saying. I put more pressure on his wound, trying to give him more time. “They asked it of me—the—the Fates.”
Furrowing my brows, my spine straightened and something Caelan said whispered through my mind.They had a son together and were happy… son not sons.
No. That didn't make any sense… I would have known. He had to be confused.
Flynn's body convulsed, a small breath escaping him as his head lolled to the side, his eyes going vacant.
No.
I looked around desperately for someone to help, but no one was there. The smoke began to clear, and the smoldering village beyond was littered with bodies and debris. Grief and guilt crashed through me, and I buried my head in my uncle's chest and screamed.
Chapter 18
Theo
A nearby branch smacked me in the face, its leaves rustling as I wrestled with it. My palms scraped against its bark as I batted it away, ducking in irritation when the leaves slid across my scalp.
My thoughts were elsewhere. I was preoccupied with Gunnar, the witches, and the war, so I hadn't noticed I'd guided my horse, Konai, too close to the forest's edge. She was restless, shaking her head, her long white mane falling to the other side of her neck.
Yawning, I patted her head, knowing she could probably use a break since we hadn’t stopped to rest much. Dedra and I had split up to check on other camps. While I knew Aria had the southern part covered, I wanted to see it for myself. Well, and to make sure Jaxon was still alive. Xavier told me he sent Jaxon to see Aria, but we hadn't heard anything since, and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
The path ahead curved, and we started to slope at a decline. We were traveling close to the ward, following it down as opposed to the usual paths. I wanted to monitor it. Make surenothing funny was happening where we weren’t stationed. So far, thankfully, besides the occasional daka, it had been quiet.
Stroking Konai’s mane, she neighed loudly, and I sighed. Steering her away from the ward, I found a large tree and climbed off her back, landing with a thud.
Pulling a few apples from my pack, I tossed one onto the forest floor, and Konai greedily took it, trotting off to lie under a nearby tree. I threw the remaining few toward her, and she snorted happily as I smiled at her.
I turned and jumped, grabbing onto a low-hanging branch, which I used to pull myself up. After climbing a few more feet, I leaned back against the trunk, settling in and propping my feet up. With my eyelids already heavy, I closed them and sighed, anticipating the amazing nap I was about to have.
CRASH.
My eyes shot open.
What now…that branch was so comfy.
A shrill cry rang out, and I leapt from the branch. Landing in a crouching position on the forest floor, I tilted my head to listen. The cry rang out again, and I ran toward the direction of the sound. Konai, not even bothered in the slightest, merely rolled onto her side under a nearby tree, and closed her eyes.
Approaching a clearing, I heard the girl more clearly.
“I’m not one of them! Get off me, you pests!”
Her cries made me slow my approach, and I wondered if I was about to encounter a witch. Peering around a nearby tree, I saw a flash of red hair. It wasn’t Aria; her hair wasn't as curly or as orange. Aria’s was a truer, darker red that glinted, whereas this hair was wild and bright. I watched as she swatted at the air above her head, where two small pixies were laughing and pulling at her curls. They sniggered as the girl twistedand swatted at them, their tiny blue hands yanking at her strands as if it were a game.
A smile tugged at my lips as I watched the pixies attack.
