Page 283 of A Flame of the Phoenix

She crouched, not feeling as triumphant as she thought she would. There was no satisfaction in watching her die. Maybe there never would have been.

“Mordecai never loved you. Edith never loved you. You’re dying, and there’s no one coming. No one to mourn you after your last breath. No legacy left to remember you by, because I will kill Edith if it’s the last thing I do.”

Nephra tried to speak, but her mouth only floundered. Her chest was crushed, leaving her in an immobile state to suffer a prolonged, painful death. So when Nephra’s eyes pleaded for a blade to end it quickly, Zaiana stood. She felt absolutely nothing.

Zaiana was yanked from her state of numbness by a sharp tug. Maverick pulled her out the way of a large, serrated piece of rock, which plummeted, crushing Nephra and nearly Zaiana too.

“We need to get out of here—now,” Maverick yelled.

Instead of arguing, her hand tightened in his as they raced through the passage that caved in rapidly behind their every step. Adrenaline pumped in her chest and sharpened her senses. The gap above the pit had widened, crumbling in lethal boulders that would make it a perilous flight, but they had no other option.

As they unglamoured their wings, she released his hand and shot skyward, pivoting around the deadly rain of rocks. One slammed into Maverick, and Zaiana’s heart lurched. She dropped, lashing out a hand, which caught him before he could fall too far. Luckily, the rock had hit his shoulder, not his wings, and he managed to gain his flight balance again to shoot himself out of the chaos beside her.

A stone slashed through the membrane of Zaiana’s right wing, sending her tumbling back down a few beats before she could catch herself. Pain lashed over her right shoulder, spreading down her arm, but she pushedharder.Being buried in this mountain was a death that would haunt her soul in every lifetime.

When the icy air wrapped around her, Zaiana could breathe in relief, but she needed to find safe landing before her flight faltered with the pain growing along one side of her body. An injury to dark fae wings affected far more than just that limb.

The mountain continued to cave in, booming so loud it was all that rattled through her. She couldn’t see Faythe and could only hope the heir had the sense and agility to have made it out long before now.

She watched the black rock break, the air choked with plumes of smoke and dust. The only home she’d ever known collapsed rock by rock, and she decided to bury Zaiana Silverfair in this dark tomb for eternity.

Zaiana no longer felt attached to the dark fae who’d lived there for three hundred years. She hadn’t for some time. There was peace in the destruction she watched, burying the life that was never her choice nor freedom. She didn’t know who she was now, nor who she wanted to be, but she turned her sight to the stars, taking her first breath of freedom, with a new will to draw many more.

She landed on a cliffside far enough away from the thundering mountains. Maverick followed her, and they caught their breath in silence for a long moment, letting the action settle.

“You need to see a healer,” Maverick said at last.

She turned to find him leaning against a round rock, clutching the bicep on the side of his injured shoulder. “So do you,” she said.

“I take it Nerida is with you––”

“Why did you do that?” Zaiana interrupted. “Why kill the masters?”

Maverick let a few beats of silence charge their stare. “You know why.”

“No. I don’t. I can’t figure out what game you’re playing. Whose side you’re on.”

“I already told you, none of this is about sides.”

“That’s bullshit.”

He winced in pain, adjusting his position. Zaiana had drifted closer. Pain throbbed over her entire right side because of the wound to her wing, but she’d be able to fly back to High Farrow. She was glad Faythe wasn’t here, for she didn’t doubt the heir would attempt to kill Maverick if she saw him, and Zaiana wasn’t confident he would escape her this time.

Maverick stood, which brought them near chest-to-chest. Zaiana angled her head back to hold his stare. She wished she could look away, but those onyx eyes were a trap that held her still.

When he leaned down to kiss her, it only lasted a second before she stepped back.

“Maverick––”

“I know.” He cut her off. “Everything is about to end in one way or another. I just had to…” He trailed off.

“You just had to take what you wanted one last time,” she said, her words intended as humor, but something inside her tugged with an ache. She couldn’t stop herself from adding, “I’m going to fight with them to take down the Spirits and Mordecai once and for all. I’m counting on us winning. You can’t be here when that happens. Leave, Maverick. I don’t know what you’ve been waiting for, but if you want to live, you have to leave.”

He smiled, but it was vacant. She’d never noticed before, but when Maverick wasn’t exuding arrogance and hatred and bitterness…he lookedhollow.

Zaiana’s mind started spinning of its own accord, wondering if there was even a slight chance Maverick could be forgiven. But that was a fantasy. In their shared look, they both acknowledged that. He turned to walk away but paused.

“This isn’t me trying to atone for what I’ve done. I have no regrets. Not in killing Faythe nor Agalhor. But give these to the pesky little heir who refuses to die.”

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