Page 355 of A Flame of the Phoenix

The rulers of this continent were slowly gaining the trust of the dark fae. She’d noticed some roamed freely on the mainland, welcomed as citizens in various new kingdoms.

They’d tried many times to convince her to take over leadership of Valgard, where most dark fae had chosen to stay or return. She refused to take that throne. Their king still lived, and until he was dead, the clutches of his ghost would always cling to her.

Besides, the idea of a crown on her head and a title ofqueenwas just laughable. Her whole life had been hidden, a companion of the shadows. She wasn’t born to lead the dark fae into the light.

Faythe and the others had taken over Dalrune,Maverick’s kingdom,and she resented it. They’d invited her there for their monarchs’meeting, as Kyleer last relayed. She couldn’t bring herself to step into the castle of Dalrune.

Until she killed Mordecai for killing Maverick, she couldn’t rest.

In truth, Zaiana feared when that day would come, for after she’d achieved her goal…she didn’t know what would become of her.

There was nothing left for her to do in this world, and maybe it would be better off without her in it.

Kyleer would be better off. She really believed he would have given up by now, since every time he’d tried to touch her frozen heart she’d lashed out with icy bitterness.

He didn’t deserve it. She despised herself for hurting him, but he kept. Coming. Back.

The longest he’d left her alone was two months, and she’d believed then he’d finally let her go. Then, when he appeared in the midst of her killing a string of savage dark fae, her heart might have been glad for it, but her mind resented him for splitting it open anew.

Zaiana sighed, wincing from the ache of her dormant muscles as she stood. The first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon—her signal to leave.

“I will find him,” Zaiana said to the ghost of Maverick that followed her steps of vengeance. “Next time I come, I’ll have killed him.”

She spoke that vow every time, even though not once had it been true.

An hour later, Zaiana crouched on a high rooftop, her hood drawn and a covering over the lower half of her face. She waited, wanting to catch Kyleer before he caught her.

When she detected a presence across the roof behind her, Zaiana spun, bracing to lunge for him, as their regular greeting always exploded in violence.

Except this time, every muscle in her body locked against movement. She was sure her heart had ripped out of her chest and landed in the clutches of her intruder. He smiled, and it was so uncanny it jerked Zaiana straight, even stumbling over her own feet with her backward step.

“Maverick,” she breathed.

“Zaiana, I presume? I’ve been looking for you for quite some time.”

Only when he spoke did she snap out of her trance. It wasn’t nearly the same accent or deep tone. Still, a lump had formed too thick and fast, and Zaiana couldn’t swallow past it.

Her next words were barely a squeak. “Who are you?”

“My apologies,” he said. The longer she stared and the more he spoke, the more she started to notice how very different this male was to Maverick. “This must be a shock to you. My name is Theron Osirion. Callen was my older brother.”

His hair was longer, brushing past his nape. His eyes were a similar shape but a plain brown. The way he spoke retained the sense of regality Maverick had let fall to cold depression. Then, behind him…Zaiana had been too stunned to notice the small Firebird on another rooftop, watching them carefully.

“Maverick never mentioned you,” Zaiana said, coming back into herself and raising her guard.

“Maverick was not my brother,” he answered with bitter notes of resentment.

Zaiana’s teeth gritted at his disgust. “Then you’ve been looking for the wrong person. Find Faythe Ashfyre if you want the Dalrune throne.”

“I don’t. And I have found the right person. For not long before he died, I received this letter…” Theron retrieved a parchment from inside his jacket. “Signed by my brother, Callen. I want to believe there was a part of him still in the monster he became, and so I’ve come to help you.”

“Helpme?”

“Find Mordecai and kill him. You may seek retribution for Maverick, but I’m owed justice for my brother, my parents, and my country he destroyed.”

“Your country is being restored. You’re the rightful heir and should focus your efforts there.”

Theron unfolded the paper that looked so thin now, as if he’d read the letter many times. He read it to her.

---