Page 314 of A Flame of the Phoenix

They had no choice but to follow.

Tarly took Nerida’s hand, interlocking their fingers, as they headed toward the castle of Olmstone.

They were taken to the cells below the castle, and Tarly wondered if it was added punishment that he was pushed into a cell with Nerida, and through the bars in the cell beside them, his father was still fucking alive.

At least, that was what Tarly thought before he stared at Varlas for long enough without detecting movement that he began to suspect it was just a corpse.

Then he took a breath deeper than the shallow pace barely keeping him alive.

Nerida said, “Is that?—?”

“My father. The fallen King of Olmstone.”

Tarly had been sure his father would be dead by now, yet his torturous slow end had been prolonged far longer than he thought. Tarly even felt bad for leaving him the last time he visited. He’d hoped for closure, but all he’d received was confirmation his father had died along with his mother a long time ago.

The scent was pungent, as if he were a corpse. Tarly directed Nerida away from watching the grim sight. Nik and Tauria were in the cell next to them.

Tarly unclasped his cloak, offering it through the bars. Nik looked up, taking it when his own around Tauria wasn’t enough. There would be a time for the words unspoken in Nik’s eyes, but Tarly smiled, knowing what they were anyway.

The cold tensed his body, but it was bearable.

“We need to get out of here,” Tarly said, already calculating with all he knew about the castle layout and escape routes.

“I thought you said Zainaid was on our side,” Nerida said.

Tarly raised a finger to his lips, mindful of the guards loyal to Dakodas that lingered nearby. “I thought he was, but things could have changed.”

“He sure seemed convincing,” Nik said. “And look at where we are.”

Nerida slipped another vial of pain-reliever through the bars to Nik.

“But we’re together, and he didn’t order our weapons to be taken,” Tarly observed. He wasn’t giving up faith in Zainaid just yet.

“Tar-Tarly.” The croak of his voice was barely human.

He approached the bars to his father’s cell. The last time he’d been here and heard every cruel reality his father had told him, he’d broke. Now, Tarly felt absolutely nothing for the male who had all but disowned him.

“You’ve outlasted my expectation,” Tarly said.

“You-you came back, my-my son.”

“I stopped being your son long ago. You don’t get to call me that now you think it might save you.”

Nerida took his hand. She was the reason he found the strength to climb out of the grave he’d allowed a life of hardship to push him deep into.

Out of the shadows his father sat in, decaying while still alive, his head lolled against the stone, and Tarly met his sunken eyes. They fell briefly to his hand held in Nerida’s, which tightened his hold, anticipating something cruel and taunting toward the love he’d found.

“I-I wanted to tell…to tell you some-something.” His father could barely push out words. Tarly figured he hadn’t spoken in some time. “A con-confession.”

“If you think it will atone for all you’ve done, it won’t.”

“Isabel was not-not your mate.”

Nerida leaned into him more. Shock clashed through them both, but some part of Tarly knew this. He just couldn’t figure out how he’d felt so sure, and how the rejected bond had felt so real.

“Marvellas thought it would make you…make you stronger. More compliant. After seeing what losing my…my mate did to me, her plan was that if you thought you lost…lost your mate too,you would be willing…willing to become dark fae to forget it all like me.”

The confession drove a spear of betrayal through his heart.

---