Page 60 of A Kiss of Flame

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Page 60 of A Kiss of Flame

Wren. Finn felt a surge of light flood through him at the thought of her name.

She’d be terrified, helpless. They all looked down on her, just like Gaius and the rest. They saw only a girl to be used, not a woman with a heart and mind of her own. They thought her helpless. But she was far from helpless. Yet, she … she couldn’t control the power at her disposal. He knew that as well as she did. He needed to go to her now. If Elodie had been taken and was in such danger?—

No, he realised, and that burgeoning darkness beneath them all grew clearer. Wren was never helpless and with Elodie in danger… she was not going to sit in the palace waiting for someone else to ride to the rescue. He remembered her when Elodie’s tower burned. She would have run in there if he hadn’t stopped her. She would never back down from a fight or leave it someone else. And when Wren lost herself in emotions and magic… He really did need to find her right away. Not only for her sake. For everyone’s.

Grabbing his sword belt, he slung it over his body and buckled it in place, leaving the bag of unwanted belongings where he had dropped it.

Wren was in trouble, more trouble than she knew. He could feel it now, spreading out through the city, the shadows converging on a single place, like a vortex sucking them in.

Even the pendant around his neck prickled in response to that power. Like it would lead him straight to her.

CHAPTER 32

WREN

Wren ran to where Elodie lay, dropping to her knees beside her.

When she touched her face, and whispered her name, Elodie flinched back and her eyes opened, bright and bloodshot with agony.

‘Wren?’ Her voice grated along her throat like sandpaper.

‘Yes, I’m here. We’re here. We’re going to get you out.’

‘You can’t, love. You—’ She looked up to see Anselm and a look of pure loathing passed over her face. It quickly crumpled as another wave of pain lanced through her. ‘You can’t be here. You have to leave. Now. They’ll be back soon. And the spells…’

Wren was too busy examining the chains and the collar, trying to find a catch. The metal was icy cold against her touch and as she ran her fingertips over it, she felt it hum. When she had released Elodie at the Seven Sisters, she had pulled the shadows from the steel, but this time it was too deeply ingrained and slipped through her grasp.

Elodie sobbed again, and she grabbed Wren’s wrists in shaking hands. ‘You have to stop, love. You’re… you’re making it worse. It hurts… Please… go.’ Her voice rose, ragged and pained.

‘But I?—’

‘Worse, Wren. The power in you… It’s… it’s feeding on it… growing… please…’

Wren withdrew, desperate now. If she couldn’t free Elodie, if she was making it worse by being here…

‘What do I do? You broke free of manacles like those before, Elodie. You have to be able to do it again.’

‘I’m too weak and this place… too dark… with you here… no time…’ Suddenly she stopped, listening intently, pain still playing out on her face but pushed back for a moment. ‘They’re coming back,’ Elodie hissed. ‘Get out, all of you. Tell Roland… tell him…’

Whatever it was she couldn’t say it. Another wave of agony swamped her and she arched her back, trying to fight through it.

Footsteps outside told them their time was up. Olivier stood in the doorway. ‘I can carry her,’ he began but Elodie shook her head. Even though she had to bite out the words, there was no doubting the tone of command.

‘…slow you down… get out.’

But Wren wasn’t giving up. ‘Elodie, please, we can make it. You and I?—’

‘Why won’t you listen to me? You’ve never listened.’ She fixed Wren with her manic eyes, wild with pain. ‘I did it all for you and you never listen. You aren’t even my child. You’re nothing to me. We owe each other nothing. Do you understand? Now leave me. Get away from me. You… you’re nothing but a monster. You always have been.’

Wren staggered back, stunned at the cruel words. Anselm pulled her into his arms, clearly as surprised as she was by Elodie’s rage.

Noises from above made them all freeze, the sound of footsteps coming down the stone stairs.

Ignoring the horror on their faces, Elodie struggled to her feet. ‘Get her out of here, knight,’ she hissed to Anselm. ‘I charge you on your vows. Both of you, protect her.’

Anselm dragged Wren back into the shadows which she instinctively pulled around them as armed men flooded the dungeon. Olivier folded in beside them and the darkness hid the three of them, for once acting in her favour. Just as it had promised, she thought, and felt like a traitor. Anselm’s whole body went tense with loathing at the sight of his father, but he didn’t release her. Perhaps he didn’t dare to. His queen had given him a command. Even Wren couldn’t counter that, no matter how much she might want to.

Sassone looked no further than a defeated queen and his own triumph.




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