Page 24 of The Midnight Arrow
He swept a hand toward Lorik. A warning growl rose up from the Kylorr-Allavari male, a sound I’d never heard from him before.
Veras continued, “You thinkI’mbad? You should look at the company you keep.”
I stiffened. “Leave.And never come back.”
“Not before I give my offering,” he growled. “How long will it take for you to understand that we are bound, Marion? Bound by Aysia? I willneverabandon her, just as you never will. How many times have I expressed my regret and grief over what happened? When will it be enough for you? You think I’m the villain in this, and that’s true…butyouwill never be able to forgive. And it will eat at you for the rest of your days. Despite what you think,Idon’twant that.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. Fury and disbelief and grief and sadness and bitterness swarmed within me until I was rooted into place. Frozen. Unable to move.
Lorik moved for me. He stepped forward, eye to eye with Veras, blocking me from view with the expanse of his wings.
“She asked you to leave. So leave…before blood is spilled at her feet in payment. I am not bound by the laws of the Allavari, remember?”
There was a dangerous edge in Lorik’s voice that nearly hadmeshuddering. Dark and deep, the words left no room for response. Even the guard Veras had brought with him flinched back.
Veras didn’t speak. He stepped around Lorik and placed the wreath at my feet, his jaw tight, his movements stiff.
“Make the offering yourself, Marion,” Veras murmured. “They were her favorite. You know that.”
I had half a mind to rip up the wreath into a million tiny pieces…but his words kept ringing through my mind:Butyouwill never be able to forgive. And it will eat at you for the rest of your days.
Was he right? Would I hold this hatred and bitterness with me until the day I left this life? Would I carry the resentment and grief into thenextlife?
I didn’t want that, I realized as I stared at the wreath at my feet. I didn’t want that at all.
“She died a terrible death because of you. I don’t know if I can forgive you, Veras. Ever,” I said quietly. Lorik turned. I felt the heat of his hand come around my waist. Veras paused on the pathway, looking back at me over his shoulder. “I loved her more than anything in this world.”
“What you don’t understand, Marion,” he replied, “is that I did too. We have that in common, at the very least.”
I choked out a huffed sigh, feeling tears burn the backs of my eyes…and I didn’t want him to see me cry. Not then, not ever.
Thankfully, he turned, his guard trailing him, and he was gone a moment later. Only then could I breathe again.
Eleven
“Marion.”
I started at the voice, turning to regard Lorik, who stood on the edge of the clearing. My sister’s grave was a few stones’ throw away from my cottage, beyond the protection spell’s barrier but shielded by a circle of giant river trees with thick, velvety leaves. Through the thick boughs, I could spy the golden light pouring from my cottage windows and realized it was night already.
How long had I been standing here?
Veras had purchased the white, thick columns and the decorative headstone, etched in the finest of silver Allavari metals. I had refused initially, but like always, he never cared what I wanted. He’d done it anyway. Her shrine. There was even a little pedestal for an offering. I usually placed bright, fragrant sprigs of whatever forest flowers I found during my foraging or a few biscuits, mixed with currants and nuts, that I’d baked that day.
It was a beautiful grave, even I had to admit it. More than I’d ever be able to afford for her. Aysia had liked that about Veras. That he’d spoiled her because she’d grown up with nothingexcept stolen bracelets and lashings when she’d stayed outside too late. He had given her the world, laid it at her feet like he’d laid the wreath at mine.
“Such sad eyes, little witch,” Lorik commented, his tone gentle.
He stepped toward me, his blue orbs even more vibrant in the darkness. It always seemed to me that he grew stronger in the dark. His footsteps were sure, his back straight, his wings flared. He lookednormal. Healthy, even, despite the bandage on his shoulder, one I’d forgotten to check and poultice this afternoon.
“What can I do to make you feel better?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I lost track of time.”
“Don’t apologize to me when you have nothing to be sorry for,” he said firmly. His eyes strayed down to what I was holding in my hands. “Do you want me to destroy that? Bury it far away? Set it on fire, perhaps? Fly it up to the Massadian Mountains and drop it off the cliff?”
Confused, I looked down and saw I was still holding on to Veras’s wreath. I choked out a small, disbelieving laugh, surprised by the suggestions though they helped cut through the daze I’d found myself in.
“No, no,” I finally said, giving him a small, shy smile. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll make the offering, just as Veras wanted.”