Page 192 of A Flame of the Phoenix

Make it stop.

She slumped over Kyleer’s body, head falling to his chest that was so still.

Hers wasn’t.

It was…alive.

Though she wished it were vacant to match his. She deserved it, not him. But maybe this was her penance with the agony those beats pumped in her blood, faster and warmer than she’d even felt before despite the snowfall lying around them from the ruins of the celestial dome.

If it killed her, if she died here, Zaiana promised to search for Kyleer’s heart in the next life.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Faythe

When Faythe watched Kyleer’s life get claimed by the blade across his throat, her mouth opened in horror, but it wasn’t her scream of denial that turned every color of blood in the room to ice.

Lightning erupted. Violent strokes sharpened to anguish and rage. Faythe knew in that moment everything about the still organ occupying the dark fae’s chest was false, as Zaiana’s broke and bled her emotions. All for Kyleer.

Faythe could only brace to absorb the ferocity from her, knowing she wouldn’t avoid the outpouring of a storm that had been bottled for so long it had been unleashed now with devastating force.

The impact threw her back. Curving into herself, Faythe couldn’t move, immobilized by the soul-obliterating torture shredding her own heart, which clashed with the shock of Zaiana’s defiance.

Zaiana had tried to save him.

Faythe couldn’t stop replaying that moment that would haunt her for the rest of her days.

Kyleer…he was gone.

She had been helpless to stop the fatal wound.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to beher.They had gotten it all so horribly wrong. Gus… Faythe mourned for him too.

All Faythe could do was bow her head while chaos ensued around her. Zaiana was still fighting. Faythe clamped her eyes shut and pressed her hands over her ears. Faythe wished only for one person. Over and over. The one she needed to survive the worst nightmare of her existence.

Then everything around her stopped.

The crashing. The voices. The chaos.

Beneath her became so much colder. Then wetter.

Finally, she opened her eyes to the harsh air across her face. By her sheer desperation and heartache alone, she must have Shadowported herself here.

Faythe scrambled to push herself up, gasping at the ice that nipped her palms.

Her vision was restricted by blasts of wind that forced her to squint through the blizzard. The air she breathed was sharp and bitter, bashing her teeth together, but as she looked through the trees and found windows with gentle glows of flame…Faythe knew where she was.

This was the cabin Reylan was tied up within.

By the time she reached the small dwelling, Faythe’s wet hair was slicked around her face, and she burst through the door, panting with exertion.

“Reylan,” she breathed.

He was still there, still kneeling, with arms splayed and head bowed as if he were a tragic statue of sacrifice. He didn’t evenlook up at her frantic intrusion. Detecting his shallow intakes of breath was the only indicator he was alive.

Faythe fell to her knees with him and took his limp head in her hands.

“Reylan, I need you,” she croaked, her tears spilling over.

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