Page 146 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“He’s here?”

“Yes.”

“He’ll torture Kyleer.”

“Probably.”

Faythe stopped walking. Zaiana turned back lazily, doing a commendable job of appearing like she didn’t care what happened to Kyleer. Was she bluffing? Faythe didn’t know why she kept believing Zaiana harbored a shred of feeling toward her friend, if no one else. She felt in her gut that Zaiana wouldn’t let him be tortured or killed.

“Are Jakon and Marlowe?—”

“I don’t care about you or any of your friends. It’s been mildly entertaining watching your circle break apart while everyone tries to be the hero. One way or another, you’ll all get yourselves killed, and you should focus on yourself, like they are.” Zaiana stopped, and Faythe flinched, backing against the wall when sheswallowed the distance between them. “I’ve always thought you reckless and weak and in over your head. Too many times you’ve proven me right.She’s going to try to break you. Both of you. I can’t say I’m confident you’re strong enough not to let her. But if there’s ever a time to put everything you have into proving me wrong, it’snow.They call you the Phoenix Queen? Then set your heart ablaze for those you swear to protect.”

The second half of Zaiana’s speech was contrary to the first. Shedidcare—about more people than she could admit even to herself. Faythe didn’t display her empathy—Zaiana would despise it—but all she saw when she looked at the dark fae was a softening heart at war with a steel mind.

Faythe gave one nod of affirmation. That was enough for Zaiana to back away and lead again.

Her skin chilled with every step. Her cage had become safer than wandering the wild in Marvellas’s domain.

Two fae in all-black uniform waited ahead. Before they reached them, Zaiana came close, hovering behind them. Her voice whispered across her ear.

“Do not break.”

Zaiana shoved Faythe, who almost lost her footing. The fae in front caught her, and the next second she felt the familiar pull of Shadowporting.

When the darkness cleared and the temperature dropped, she immediately saw why she’d needed that reminder from Zaiana.

Reylan was here. Faythe’s horror kept climbing the more she took in of the scene. The dried blood around where he kneeled in this small cabin. His bound wrists splaying his arms, and his bare chest. His bowed head that didn’t look up.

Marvellas stood like a beacon of blood and fire. Faythe couldn’t even spare her a kernel of her attention beyond a glance—it was all fixed on her mate as fingers jabbed into her spine, forcing her further across the space.

While Reylan’s skin was free of fresh marks or blood, Faythe began to tremble, knowing that wouldn’t last long.

“You don’t have to hurt him.” She whispered her weak words, knowing they were futile.

“I wish that were true,” the Spirit said, so calm and uncaring.

Do not break.

Faythe thought she could find the strength of mind, the physical resistance to pain, against what Marvellas might do to her, but this… Reylan was her biggest weakness.

Marvellas glided like a poisonous red snake around Reylan, and Faythe jerked at her proximity. She was stopped from taking her first step by a rough grip on her arm from the fae who’d brought her here.

“I really hope you both make it,” Marvellas said, tipping her head with an admiring look at Reylan as if he were her prized pet. Faythe’s rage boiled under her skin. “Zaiana will stop you if you get too close to your limit.”

She’d agreed to do his. Condemn the world by breaking the ruin—the only thing that could send the Spirits back to their realm or kill Marvellas herself. Faythe approached Reylan even though he paid her no mind. She crouched in front of him…and knew in her heart her choice to save him was absolute, no matter the cost.

“What do I need to do?” Faythe asked quietly.

“That is what you must figure out. I cannot touch it. Zaiana is the only one in our history who has been able to wield the colossal power they contain. She will guide you.”

Zaiana stood poised, as straight as a soldier, by the small fireplace in the room.

Marvellas had sworn a blood oath it wouldn’t kill him, but what if Marvellas knew a broken magickal bond couldn’t kill her anyway, and Faythe had been a fool to stake her belief in it?

There was no more time for questioning, no time to reconsider her choice, but still, her mind spun and spun on an endless loop of doubt, terror, and dread.

“I’m not very patient, my dear,” Marvellas said calmly.

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