Page 24 of The Phoenix Inheritance

But that’s not all that was new. Little by little, the idea of leading a life without supernatural powers, of growing older like any other creature on Earth no longer sounded quite as bad.

Not if I can be by Isobel’s side.

The inevitability that lies at the end of a mortal existence still terrifies me. Yet it’s not the same as the disdain with which I used to scorn humans for their weakness, their imperfection, their utter insignificance.

I was wrong. My father is wrong. The whole Kingdom is wrong.

Because Isobel can never be insignificant, at least not in my world. She may not have lethal claws, a nest of serpents on her head or eyes that turn enemies to stone. What she has is more common sense than my whole family reunited, an impish sense of humor and a knack for always finding a break in the clouds.

Isobel is only imperfect in that one day, she’ll die. My heart clenches at the mere idea.

In the few weeks I’ve known her, she didn’t only fill my life with her smiles and wit. She shook its very foundations so that now, instead of looking at the world from the pitfalls of my resentment, I can stand on my two own feet. Or almost. I still need to hold Isobel’s hand.

I can’t even begin to imagine how empty I’ll be inside when she dies. But as long as I stay by her, I can prevent that from happening anytime soon. If I’m human, perhaps I’ll only have to know the awful loneliness for a few moments before I disappear as well.

“Good Gods Dane, it’s not just you who isn’t in Østrom these days… It’s also your mind!”

I shake my head and focus back on the present. The flask of potion. Uncle Thorsten.

“Sorry,” I say as my fingers wrap around the vial. “And thanks for your help all these years. Your support meant a lot to me.”

His eyes narrow in suspicion. Perhaps he noted my use of the past tense.

“I’m always with you, Dane. Never forget that.”

A horn blasts, announcing that dinner is being held. Startled, I let go of the gourd.

“We should hurry,” I point out as I rush towards my door. “Father hates it when anyone is late.”

I don’t even glance behind to see if he follows me as I jog down the stairs to the dining room. My thoughts have made me realize that there’s a very important announcement I must make today. But at the table my parents are discussing state affairs. I don’t dare interrupt them.

“Another Hunter has been captured,” my father is saying.

My mother frowns. “I shall miss the jewelry Rudyard brought me each month from around the Kingdom. Short as he was, I never would have suspected he was half human.”

Her husband nods solemnly. “Elves are a dastardly species as well. No wonder they’re so ridiculously small. It befits their petty natures.”

“What will you do with him, my King?”

My father stiffens at the biting coldness of her tone. “Rudyard can make an invaluable spy. He can lure the rest of the Hunters into a trap so we capture them all.”

“Because your silly plan to make Ehren speak didn’t work,” she sneers.

“Rudyard seems a lot more cooperative. He doesn’t want to die.”

Before my mother can argue and the meal generates into yet another heated discussion over humans, I shoot to my feet.

I need to say that I’ve made peace with my mortal nature. So the expectations I can never fulfill can come to an end. So Warwick can be crowned once and for all, as it was always meant to be.

I know I have to speak, but I'm afraid.

“Father,” I finally blurt when our plates are being taken away. “There’s something I must say.”

My interventions at the table are so rare that even the staff stares at me. I curl my fingers around my glass, acutely aware of the dozen pairs of eyes fixed on me.

“Well,” my dad presses impatiently as I stay silent. “What is it, Dane?”

I clench my fists, praying for courage. “We don’t need to wait for me to become a phoenix anymore.”

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