Page 157 of The Silversmith

“This cabin doesn’t look four hundred years old.”

Damond chuckled. “The stubborn bastard just rebuilds it every time it breaks.”

Just like he had done for me.

“After you married, it took Simeon’s men ten days to find you,” Damond continued. “The day they took you, Smyth had left you inside to hunt. When he came back, you were gone. With no sign of a struggle and only a single note.”

I looked back down at the parchment. Foreign words written unmistakably in my own script.

“He chased after them, but at that time, he was just a blacksmith who liked to fight. They were faster, far more skilled, and Simeon knew how to cover his tracks. But Smyth never stopped looking, and after eleven years, he found Simeon. He pleaded for him to give you back. Simeon told him what he had done—placed you in a deep sleep, so that the army of people within the Winterton Caves could grow large and powerful enough, fortified by generations, to support him in the fight against Molochai. And so he could take as long as he needed to learn about your power. He came up with his plan—a prophecy predicting a young savior queen, powerful, impressionable, and sacrificial—as you’ve always been. Your mother was clairvoyant, so to anyone who knew her, a prophecy was easy to believe. Simeon told Smyth this and ordered him to move on.”

“I don’t let go. Ever.”

Of me.

I leaned forward and buried my face in my shaking hands.

“Obviously, Smyth didn’t move on,” Damond continued. “When it was clear that Simeon would not concede to his appeals, he went to Molochai. His father. He asked for a way to be frozen in time like Simeon, like Molochai, like you, so that one day he could see you again. He made his blood oath. He vowed to kill for Molochai in exchange for the power to make him ageless. Stuck at thirty-one. Molochai let him believe it would only be one kill, that the victim would be guilty. But Molochai tricked him. It wasn’t just once, and it wasn’t just the guilty,” Damond uttered darkly. “He butchers whoever Molochai tells him to, and he’s been bound by that oath for over four hundred years.”

“What if Molochai gave him an order to kill me?” I looked up, pressure building in my throat. “What was his plan then?”

“Molochai wanted to kill you himself.” Damond gestured to my torso. “Even if that wasn’t the case, to take another life, the oath requires Molochai to give a name, and to Molochai—when he first found out you existed—you were Aryella Gold. Simeon was smart in coming up with that loophole to protect you, I’ll give him that. You were safe with Smyth as long as Molochai didn’t know who you truly were.”

“He cannot know,” Gavin had said to me.

Damond sighed and said, “Even then, Smyth had a backup plan. He had me following you both. I was far enough away to give you privacy, close enough to take care of you if he had to…” Damond flinched. “He would have killed himself before hurting you, Ary.”

“If I hurt you, I’ll beat him to it.”

Those words, about Ezra’s threat to kill him. He was being… quite literal.

I blinked out a tear. Even if he didn’t deserve it.

Hearing this story with a clearer mind, from someone other than Gavin, made it more real. I’d fought to believe it, refused to trust it. If true, it explained why Gemma would dare leave me alone with him. If I was indeed his wife and everything Simeon had told her had been a lie…

“Come when you’re ready,” she had said. “Do what you need to do to… find yourself.”

She, too, had meant that literally.

I buried my face in my hands again, rubbed my eyes to soothe the pounding in my head.

“Will Gemma tell Elias and the others the truth?” I whispered.

“Smyth asked her not to, though I would imagine she’ll tell Finn.” Damond sighed. “Simeon has controlled your life for too long. How you reveal yourself to them should be on your terms. With that, she agreed.”

A wave of gratitude washed over me, for both of them—the two people who knew me best in the world.

“This is the truth?” I whispered, pointing to the table and the letter. “I need you to promise me, Damond, that this is the truth. Swear it. On your life, on the lives of everyone you’ve ever loved.” I could feel power rumbling within me. I couldn’t access it—not yet, in this body still weak, still healing. But it was there. “Because I vow,” I uttered through clenched teeth, “I vow, here and now, that the next person who lies to me will need the protection of all twelve gods combined.”

“It’s the truth, Ary. I swear on my own soul.” His lips curled into a sly smile. “And you know I love myself far too much to risk my soul.”

Once more, I covered my face with my hands and focused on gravity holding my feet to the floor. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Damond replied.

“Will he come back?”

“He can’t.” He squeezed my arm. “He has to find a way to break the oath. You’re not safe until it’s done.”