Page 66 of The Reaping Rose

And she chose me, a male who will never be worthy of her, even if I’ll try.

“You barely slept,” she guesses, glancing up at the moon as if she’s trying to figure out how long I’ve been awake.

I snag her with my magic the moment she’s within reach, pulling her against me at the edge of the balcony. “I tried.”

It’s not a lie. My mind drifted long enough to float to the same place it always does. To the edge of sleep where darkness waits. A place where I watch my sister get stabbed through the heart over and over. Where I see everything that might still go wrong play out before me. Visions where it isn’t Selia who dies, but Elorie.

I left the prison, but it has not left me.

Elorie reaches up, cupping my cheek with her warm palm. Her thumb brushes the edge of my scar, and it sends a shock wave through my bones. Her touch, even when her magic is at bay, is electrifying.

“I have nightmares too,” she admits, lips downturned. “And I was only in the prison for a few days. So I can’t imagine what that must be like for you.”

Elorie’s heart is so big; she feels guilty for having suffered less than I did, but time is irrelevant. I was in her thoughts long before we ever met. I know what horrors came to her while I was locked in an obsidian cage, unable to help. I have no doubt the prison used those same nightmares against her. I hate thinking about what the prison might have shown her. What pain it caused to cast this darkness in her heart that wasn’t there before.

“Time is irrelevant there,” I remind her. “It could be a moon or a thousand years, and it doesn’t matter. The prison is unbearable in both situations. It doesn’t take much time to plant visions that never leave.”

Elorie swallows hard, blinking up at me. “What do you dream about?”

“My sister.” I glance away, my teeth clenching. “How I failed her. Sometimes I save her, and sometimes I don’t, but it never matters because she resents me anyway. Sometimes it’s just memories, and sometimes it’s what might come to be of all this. Either way, it’s nothing good. What about you?”

Elorie frowns, and when I meet her gaze, she’s the one who looks away this time. “I see Idunn. My mother.”

Bitterness is clear in her tone and emotions that thrum through the thread. While she hasn’t told me more than anyone else about finding her mother in the prison, I’ve guessed there’s more she’s holding back.

“Sometimes I dream about what the prison showed me. You dying over and over in so many different ways. The worst part was that it refused to show me your face.” Elorie grazes her fingertips along my jaw, shuddering. “But mostly I just see her.”

“Do you want to talk about her?”

Her lips press in a thin line as she nods once, so I lead her to a chair and pull her into my lap. Her winter-kissed scent envelops me. The ice crystals sparkle in her eyes. Moonlight bathes her porcelain skin. The rosy blush of her cheeks from earlier has yet to fade entirely. The lingering glow of her magic hangs around her.

Elorie Vale is the most beautiful star.

“What was your mother like?” I tuck her hair behind her ear.

Elorie bites her lower lip. “She wasn’t what I expected. I didn’t say that to the others, mostly because it doesn’t matter⁠—”

“It matters to you.”

“I guess you’re right. But she was colder than I expected. She made it clear she couldn’t care less about my father. And as for me…” Her gaze lifts to the sky. “Maybe I shouldn’t have expected her to care that I was her daughter. There was obviously a reason my father kept her a secret from me. I should have trusted that he knew what was best. But to see how little I truly meant to her was difficult.”

“Some Fae live too long to care about anything other than themselves. Even family bonds,” I remind her, knowing it won’t soothe the disappointment.

“Logically, I know you’re right. But Idunn was unlike any Fae I’ve met. She was so cold; it was like she was completely detached.” Elorie shakes her head, and I brush her hair off her face. “I see why my father kept me from her. She’s my blood, but she isn’t my family.”

I’d like to say I don’t understand, but while I was close with my mother, it was not the same way I was close with my sister. There was no warmth to my mother’s love. It wasn’t love at all. It was obligation.

“I shouldn’t complain to you about this. You have more important things to worry about.”

I pull her closer. “I want to hear everything you’re willing to share. Nothing matters more. Tell me everything, Starfire.”

Peace is strange. I’ve experienced it in the quiet between wars, in the comfort of friendships. But nothing compares to the utter tranquility Elorie brings to my heart. She sets every thought at ease, no matter what rages around me.

Elorie’s shoulders relax as she sinks against me. “I look a lot like her. I have her face. Her mouth and nose. Even her freckles sparkled like mine do. Although she has a lot more than the three on my cheek. But her hair was white, which was surprising.”

“Why?” I toy with the blue ends of her hair.

“You mentioned a blue-haired Fae to me once. One more powerful than any before her. Part of me wondered if that Fae was my mother.”