Page 134 of Only Flames Remain

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He opened it once more, gaze flitting between me and his boots, unsure. “Are you all right?”

“Am I all right?” The words escaped my clenched teeth, a humorless laugh chasing them. “Am I all right?!” My voice was loud enough to carry, but there was no one around to hear.

Whatever survivors there might have been were not seeking relief on the banks of the sea.

I cocked my head as I studied him. His jacket was pristine, pressed ink without a hint of ash or flame to be found. His trousers were still ironed smooth. Only his boots showed signs of the destruction and devastation he had wrought.

Standing on the banks of the sea together, we were a startling contradiction.

“Do I look all right?” I asked him.

“Aveline, I—”

I raised my hand. “Don’t speak. Don’t you dare speak to me!”

I turned, a gust catching my skirts and whipping them around me. The change in direction of the wind brought with it a fresh lungful of smoke. I coughed and fell to my knees once more, unable to fill my lungs with fresh air.

It physically hurt to breathe.

Sorin kneeled beside me—though he didn’t touch me—respecting the distance I desperately craved. His voice was quiet. “Fire cannot burn my mate—”

I turned toward him, anger burning. “But the effects of such fire?” I asked, pressing back onto my heels. “Did you think of that? Did you think of all the innocents who would die beneath your flames when you left Gothryn?” I threw my arm out toward the wreckage. “Did you think I would be happy?”

He shook his head, brow drawn. “They took you. I needed to keep you safe—”

“Look how many you killed to save one!” My gaze dropped to my soot covered hands. “What made you think I wasn’t safe?” I asked, incredulous.

He reached out for me and I flinched. His hand dropped between us.

“She saw you. The oracle—you were in a prison. Forced to marry Kallias by days end or—”

“I had a plan!” I sobbed. “A plan that did not involve killing thousands of innocents! You do not think, Sorin! Though you accuse your brother of it, it is you who runs on emotion and impulse alone. Anger overcomes you. You think you are strong? The strongest prince this realm has ever seen? There is no strength in this,” I sneered.

He shook his head. “I didn’t—”

But his words drifted off on the breeze as it changed direction once more. I threw my head back, mirthless laughter escaping the back of my throat. I couldn’t believe this. I didn’t want to.

“You took the choice away from me, Sorin. You decided for both of us. I didn’t leave Gothryn willingly. I saw Voirel. I thought…” I pressed my hand to my chest. “I was going to come back to you. I was going—” My words choked off on a sob. Hope lit his expression, and I held my hand between us as the other darted to the ground to pick up the bow I had dropped there. “Don’t.”

He shook his head, anguish painting his expression. “Aveline, I don’t understand.”

I took a deep breath, pressing my eyes closed. “And that right there is the very problem. You are ruthless. It is something I both love and despise about you. You want to be a king, Sorin? Take your father’s throne? Then open your eyes. Your answer to everything is impulse and brutality. And look what it cost you.” His brows were drawn together as I held his gaze. “It has cost you me.” I took a deep breath, my words caught in my throat. “My mother, Sorin. There is no way she could have survived the smoke. Her body lays among the ruins of your pride,” I sobbed.

I reached behind me, grasping an arrow from the quiver and knocking it. I leveled it at him.

He didn’t flinch.

“I only meant to keep you safe. Save you from a fate—”

“I will never forgive you for this.” My voice was a whisper on the breeze, barely loud enough for either of us to hear.

Sorin shook his head. “But we are fated—the gods—”

My gaze sparked with anger. “Fuck the old gods and their fates.” My legs were weak beneath me as my hair whipped around my face, tearing free from its braid. “I choose my own destiny.”

Misery colored his every feature. His endlessly dark eyes watched me as my hand trembled.

“You wouldn’t…”