Page 54 of Ignite the Infernos

“They did their best to tear it up and throw us off, but from what we can gather . . .” Farrow starts as he focuses on several viewpoints of the mangled dwelling that Ever and the other Syphons lived in.

I haven’t seen the footage yet or had a chance to go through the camp myself. My priority was getting Ever back to Four Tiers, but seeing it now feels like a set of claws through the gut. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t . . . this.

Charred and still-smoking shipping containers lie everywhere. One has smashed through what looks like a long rectangle of patchwork metal. Farrow identifies it as a makeshift garage based on the gutted fliers and tools that were found in the wreckage. Another structure, this one resembling an overgrown shed I recognize from the farming sectors, comes into view. Several shipping containers have flattened it. They either fell on the structure or were thrown on it—it’s hard to say—but Farrow pans in on a sign lying in the black sand that has The Oven scratched into a large metal panel.

“After assessing welding marks and the pattern of the fallen shipping containers, we think the living quarters looked like this.” Farrow flicks a rendering in place, and it shows a rudimentary pyramid shape. “They firebombed the inside of all the containers, destroying anything we might have been able to use to track the residents. Only one container remained untouched.”

Farrow strides over to the metal rectangle in question, and the feed grows shaky as he climbs a pile of corrugated metal and steps inside a doorway. A thin mattress, some cinder blocks, and a smashed-up dresser are the only things inside.

“This was Ever Tenebrae’s quarters. Her scent, both the original and the newly altered one, are present here,” Farrow identifies, and my eyes snap to Ever.

I can see her through the feed, her back ramrod straight and her eyes distant and defiant. She was six years old and had just watched her entire line be slaughtered, and this was the only place that offered her any kind of safety. Horrified, I survey her room. I try to picture her there, existing in this shell of a shelter, surviving the brutal desert, mourning those she lost. Not even the poorest Arcs or humans in Drameric are subjected to these kinds of conditions, and yet King Tenebrae’s daughter clawed out an existence here against all odds.

An ache starts in my chest, and my teeth are at risk of breaking from how hard I’m clenching my jaw. I want to lament everything she deserved but never had. I need to pull her into my arms and vow that it will never be like this again. She will never go without. She will never scrape by and struggle again. Her future will be filled with the finest of everything, and she’ll be treated like the royalty she is every second of every day until we see our last.

Another shiver runs through her, and I’m out of my seat and leaping off the balcony without a second thought. I rip my cape from my back and storm toward her, fur in hand. She looks up at me from her stone throne, her body set in a stubborn line and her beautiful eyes filled with a searing challenge. I offer her my cape, knowing she’s cold and hating myself for waiting so long to do anything about it.

I’m angry with her, confused and hurt, but I will never let that distort how I care for Ever Tenebrae again. She can curse me, loathe me, fight me every step of the way, but she’ll do it from the safety of our rookery, wearing the finest clothes, while dining on every delicacy she could ever dream of. She will want for nothing even if she never wants me again.

Ever looks at the cape and then back up to me, and if she could set me on fire right here and now, I have no doubt that she would.

“I don’t want your pity,” she grits up at me.

“I could never pity you. You’re too strong and capable to ever warrant it. But you won’t suffer another second, is that clear?” I grit back.

Her hard eyes dart back and forth between mine, and I see the exact second she chooses obstinacy and anger over her own well-being.

“Take the cloak, Ever,” I growl, leaning closer.

Her pupils quickly eat up the green in her eyes, and her goose bumps seem to have goose bumps as she furiously calculates her odds of winning this little battle I’ve started.

“Fuck you,” she snarls, but then she snatches the cloak from my hands and begins to wrap herself in it.

I don’t say another word or offer to help, knowing she’d probably cut my hands off if I tried, but I stride back to the balcony, my chest full of pride, and my mind now picturing my mate wrapped in only my cloak while I coax those breathy little moans that drive me fucking mad out of her with my tongue, my fingers, my dick, my . . .

“As you can see from the amount of food being stored and the number of containers that were firebombed in an effort to incinerate evidence, we don’t think this setup could accommodate more than thirty,” Farrow explains via the feed that’s still playing. “We only saw six fliers and four wyverns during our pursuit, leaving an estimated twenty souls unaccounted for.”

The feed ends and disappears, leaving the room quiet. Stricken. Somber. My father leans forward, sorrow welling in his eyes, and my chest tightens at the pain spilling out of him. A tear slips silently down his cheek, and I know he’s thinking of Ever’s father right now, the late king who my father considered kindred and misses every day.

“Bring them home, Ever,” my father pleads, and it’s so raw, so pained, I find it hard to breathe through the emotion suddenly clogging my throat.

“They’re not safe here,” Ever answers, and I don’t miss the pain in her tone or the flash of regret in her eyes as she addresses my father.

“Yet,” my father utters as he dries his cheeks and straightens. “They’re not safe here yet.”

My father pulls in a deep breath and checks something on his com. A flicker of anger ignites in his eyes, but it’s there and gone so fast I don’t know if anyone else caught it. Khalil and Elio both check their coms, and disquiet settles in my gut. Something has happened.

“It’s been a long day, and you need to rest and clean up,” my father declares abruptly. “We will reconvene tomorrow and discuss matters in greater detail, because I will not wait another sixty-two years to bring a lost kith home and begin righting the wrongs of the past.”

With that, my father stands and, without another word, strides out of the hall. His second and third do the same, and when Lorn rises from his seat to follow, I level him with an expectant look. He mouths Conclave to me, and my blood flash boils in my veins. I look over at Ever, wrapped in my cape, and I know exactly why I wasn’t summoned. They’re going to try to subvert my bond.

Ever catches me staring and promptly flips me the bird. A vicious calm comes over me at the gesture. My chest loosens, and the fire in my veins cools. Of course, why didn’t I think of it sooner? The dukes have no idea who they’re fucking with. Maybe it’s time to introduce them to my Syphon and watch while she eats them alive.

Chapter 25

Ever

AESON’S NOT SPEAKING TO ME again, neither is his Wing, and the back-and-forth is giving me whiplash.