Page 38 of The Phoenix Inheritance

Isobel

There’s no window in my cell, so I don’t have a clue what time it is. All I know is that my battered body screams for a few hours of sleep, yet my overactive mind refuses to follow suit. The drop of water that falls to the floor threatens to drive me mad. It seems the dungeons were carved underneath the rocky heights of Østrom, as they wind cavernously underground.

Being the only female in the group of captured Hunters, I should be grateful to have my own private space, as the rest of the guys are huddled together in one small room. All the same, I wish I was with them.

To see Ehren, who was savagely tortured but is still alive, Garrison hastily informed me during the match. But also to distract myself from the poisonous fears that twist my guts ever since I made my miraculous recovery.

What will become of me, captured within Østrom’s walls? What will become of us, now that Dane will be crowned King?

This morning’s realization makes my mind spin even now. I bludgeoned the Prince of Sowilo with a shoe, I recall in anguish. That’s the kind of mistake over which you lose your head in this neck of the woods.

And yet he loves me. My heart slams at the memory of his handsome face, twisted with turmoil as he uttered those sacred words. Dane is even more incredible than I thought. He has a path of privilege and power already traced for him, yet he carved a place for a person like me in his life.

The bars rattle, and I bolt up from the bench. A scream breaks past my lips as I decipher a dark figure fiddling with the lock. An instant later a large hand stifles my cry.

“Ssh, Isobel,” the voice I’ve come to long for the most in the world whispers. “It’s me.”

I tumble into Dane’s embrace, plastering myself against his solid chest. After the upheaval of the last couple of days, it finally feels like the Earth has stopped shaking in his arms.

“Thank the Gods you’re alright,” he murmurs shakily.

“Thank you,” I correct him. “I’m alive thanks to nobody else but you.”

“I owed you the favor,” Dane answers sheepishly, plainly uneasy with my crushing wave of gratitude.

Too bad for him. I plant a kiss on my hero’s lips, infinitely relieved to taste their sweetness again.

“I lied to you, remember?” He grunts when we finally part. “You have reason to hate my guts.”

I sigh as I pull back, smoothening my wrecked dress and my crazy hair.

“You were never actually untruthful,” I amend quietly. “You just didn’t speak about your background at all.”

His head drops against the stone wall. “Is there a difference?”

“Yes, especially since I never asked.”

“You should have,” he hisses in the dark. “And you should be angry right now. Do I need to spell it out for you? Your parents were murdered because my father–”

“Your father, yes,” I interrupt. “Not you.”

My calmness seems to rile him even more. He rises and jabs an unsteady finger at his chest. “Me? Isobel, I’ve had so little hardships in life that I could think of nothing better to do than make some up in my head!”

“Don’t!” I snap back as I shoot to my feet as well. “Don’t undermine your struggles like that.”

Dane gapes at me in consternation. “While you were out in the Barrens all alone, I had food on the table every day, I–”

I shake my head in vehement denial. “That’s not how it works, Dane. We don’t compare sufferings.”

His broad shoulders drop as he stares at me in confusion. “What do we do, then?”

I shrug wearily. “I don’t know. Try to understand each other, I guess?”

“And you understand me? Despite all the pain my existence brought upon yours?”

“I’d argue that you gave me a lot more joy than sorrow,” I point out, barely resisting the urge to pull him close and toss all this silly guilt out the window – if only there was one. “But to answer your question, yes, I do. I understand that there were circumstances beyond your control.” I hold up three fingers to tick each one off. “Being born in Østrom. Becoming a phoenix. Even today’s tournament.”

Dane’s scowl deepens as he opens his mouth to protest, but I carry on without mercy.

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