Page 211 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“What happened?”

“I betrayed you. I hurt you.”

His eyes flexed at that. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I am a monster. Not you. No matter what, that is not you.”

Every word she spoke he calculated as if deciding what to harbor as truth, but he hardly showed emotion.

“My name…?”

“Kyleer.”

“Yours?”

“Zaiana.”

Kyleer shuffled after a moment of observation. She thought he was about to turn from her, but he came closer, until they sat face-to-face with only bars to separate them. His green eyes and his heartbeat… In all the tragedy, Zaiana found peace that those precious parts of him remained.

“Zaiana,” he repeated, as if he werefeelingthat single word, and she braced for it to be met with rejection. Instead he watched her thoughtfully. “Why are you sad?”

The sob that escaped her came so suddenly she couldn’t hold it back. As if he’d released the bubble she didn’t know she was choking on.

“It hurts,” she whispered.

“You’re wounded?”

“Yes.”

Zaiana collected wounds like armor. So many of them hidden inside her she was a map of scars, torn and broken, and she didn’t know how to fix it. Fix herself.

“Is there…anything I can do?” he asked carefully.

She sniffed away her pitiful spilling emotions. “Try to remember,” she said. That was all she wanted.

His brow twitched at that. “You said you betrayed me—then why do you want to help me?”

Zaiana had nothing left to lose. Kyleer would live, and she didn’t plan to be around much longer to face all that was threatening to kill her before she could have her revenge.

“I regret it,” she confessed. “I don’t regret much in my life, but I regret hurting you.”

“Then why did you?”

“I thought I had to, and I guess I thought you would be better off for it. Without me.”

“Was I?”

“I don’t know.”

Kyleer took a long breath, shifting to lean against the wall, but he struggled with his wings to find a comfortable position.

“It’s best if you splay them a little. Just relax them,” she offered.

Kyleer tried to do as she suggested. It slipped his feathered wing through the bars of her cell, and she fought the urge to reach out and find out if they felt as soft as they looked. The puzzle of them not being membranous like every dark fae she’d ever seen still swam in her mind.

“So what are they going to do with me?”

“Nothing,” she said. “She’s not going to get a chance to do anything else to you.”

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