Page 95 of By the Flames of Her Fury

“What was all that about?” Starke jerked his head toward the door. “With Swift.”

“I already told you, it was nothing.”

He hummed as if he didn’t quite believe me, then looked down at his feet. “You never told me about him.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, removing my torn, waterlogged bag from over my shoulder and tossing it to the ground. “You probably haven’t told me about everyone from your past, either.”

“That’s because nobody else mattered.” He cleared his throat, red creeping up his neck as he scratched his chin. “You must mean a lot to him, if he came all this way to find you.”

I rubbed my temples. Fates, I was so tired. First Odessa’s wound, and now the fight with Everett. What I said was true—it had felt like he and my brother were trying to conform me to this perfect life after they rescued me. But it wasn’t their fault that I didn’t belong there, and Everett didn’t deserve the way I treated him.

I quickly changed the subject. “Was there something you needed?”

“I wanted to check in. We haven’t had the chance to talk just the two of us since…well, since everything happened. And since Mortep died.”

I let out a breath. “Right.”

“How does that feel?”

“I don’t know what to feel. It all happened so fast. Part of me feels like there’s something unfinished.” I shook my head. “It’ll sink in eventually. I’m just trying to catch up.”

Starke ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m worried about Odessa. I can’t believe this is happening to her. Poor girl.”

His words highlighted the thought that had been lurking in the back of my mind all night. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?” I whispered.

His brow furrowed. “What? Why would you think that?”

“Because she wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me. None of you would be.” I balled my hands at my sides. “If I hadn’t been so obsessed with finding Mortep, if I hadn’t forced you all to come with me—” I gritted my teeth, then looked down at my hands. Blood seeped from where my nails had shifted into talons and dug into the flesh. Within seconds, my Shifter healing stirred, knitting the skin together once more.

He took a few tentative steps forward, and when I didn’t stop him, he sat next to me on the bed. “Nobody forced us, V. Just like nobody is forcing us to stay now.”

“Do you trust them?” I asked. “The High Elders?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said slowly. “But we promised to stay, and we’ve got to find a way to cure Odessa. So I guess we have to put our faith in you and this grand plan they have.”

“No pressure.”

“What did Swift say about it?” he asked. I didn’t miss the slight sneer as he said Everett’s name.

I wiped the residual blood from my hands onto my pants. “He thinks they might be trying to manipulate me,” I confessed. “That they’re feeding me what I need to hear so I’ll do what they want.”

“And you disagree?”

I shrugged. “I want to trust them. I want all of this to be real, and I feel this—this calling to help them. Like this is where I’m supposed to be. I know that sounds naive, but⁠—”

“It doesn’t,” he said, inching closer on the bed. “But as much as I may not like him, Swift has a point. You don’t know these people. You have to be careful.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. Any resentment from the conversation with Everett quickly morphed into regret. I’d been so defensive, so easily angered, because the truth was…I didn’t want him to be right. I didn’t want to realize I’d made the wrong decision in trusting the Pyraethis.

“I hurt him tonight,” I said, the words tumbling from me. I leaned forward to rest my head in my hands. “He’s only trying to watch out for me. That’s what all of you are doing, and I take it for granted, every single time.”

Starke moved next to me. “That’s what friends are⁠—”

“What if I’m not worth it?” I asked, raising my head to look at him. His concerned blue eyes were much closer than I expected. “You don’t know the things I’ve done, Starke. And Everett was right. I—I keep running away, thinking it will solve my problems. But I always hurt people when I do. And now Odessa is paying the price.”

Starke put a hand on top of my leg. I flinched at the contact, but he didn’t move. “You always keep this bottled up inside, don’t you?” he asked. When I didn’t respond, he slowly reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. My muscles locked, but I pushed the tension away and took a deep breath.

His eyes softened. “For all the brave faces you put on, I know you’re scared,” he murmured, lips so close, his breath washed over me. “You don’t have to bear it alone. Let me help you.”