Page 84 of A Flame of the Phoenix

Zaiana needed more pain.Something physical to stop them from falling.

“You’re safe in here,” he said, remaining calm despite the tantrum around them. “You’re safe with me.”

“Why?” she repeated, defeat hushing her tone.

“Does there need to be a why?”

“There always is.”

The storm began to calm. Perhaps she didn’t need pain when exhaustion could numb her being. Her entire existence. It was the only way to go on.

“Listen to me,” he said, so soft and grounding Zaiana tuned in to it in her desperation to claw herself out of this Nether. “We’re going to figure out what they did to you. You’re important to them, and the only way to make it right is to become the revenge they didn’t see coming. We’re going to get back your lightning, and I think we might have discovered what it’s become tied to.”

“What?”

She clawed her way out of the destruction that was caving in on her, though she couldn’t be certain whether the new spike of adrenaline at his next words were in terror or in liberation.

“Your heartbeat.”

There was one thing she could be grateful to her sleep phantom for: a deep, silent rest. She woke early, however, needing the fresh air to dissect everything.

The emotions that had exhausted her were replenished by her blissful undisturbed sleep, and now the pressure of the bottle inside of her had been relieved enough for her to breathe clearer for now.

She wanted to beat the crack of dawn outside, but she sensed something disrupting the usually dull atmosphere of Rhyenelle’s castle halls. A few lingering fae whispered closely to each other, with new gossip to spread. She thought about asking them but decided the anticipation was the most excitement she’d felt in too long.

Zaiana marched toward the throne room, figuring if someone new had arrived, they would be greeted there. Perhaps the high lord had paid them a visit, or Marvellas had returned with new instruction.

“Have you heard?”

Maverick always had a way of finding her when she wished he wouldn’t.

“Are you going to tell me?” she drawled without sparing him a glance.

He chuckled low. “I think you’ll enjoy the surprise of what unlikely ally just offered themselves to Dakodas. Though useless, if you ask me.”

Her interest was piqued, running through several options, though his demotion of their worth made her list short. When she thought it could be Kyleer in a foolish mission to retrieve his brother, she had to clamp her fists tight. She despised thenervesthe prospect of seeing him again so soon invoked. But no—he would be a very useful captive to draw out Faythe. The heir cared for him deeply.

“You’ve been absent recently,” Maverick hinted.

“You must be just as bored as I am to be keeping track of me.”

“Exactly. I’ve been craving some entertainment, and you’re my favorite source.”

She would have glowered, but they rounded the hall toward the open throne room doors, and Zaiana spied the figure kneeling before Dakodas, who’d draped herself beautifully across the mighty wide throne.

Zaiana didn’t recognize the fae male, but Maverick had made it sound like she should.

He had dark blond hair, wavy to just above his shoulders. Over his back was a bow and a quiver of arrows.

Dakodas’s onyx eyes gleamed down at him, and her smile curved with wicked amusement. “I do enjoy it when royals finally submit to order,” she said, loud enough that it was a boasting announcement for everyone. “Rise, Tarly Wolverlon.”

That was when Zaiana’s steps faltered, and she snapped her head to see Maverick’s smirk.

The Prince of Olmstone was certainly never a consideration of hers. Zaiana didn’t know much about him, but she’d been informed Olmstone was under Marvellas’s control and the prince and princess were unaccounted for.

What in the Nether would he be doing here now, if he’d fled when his kingdom was taken?

Tarly straightened to a tall height. His poise gave away his royal upbringing. “I fled in fear, I admit, but I’ve been watching and listening to Marvellas’s movements, and I know I stand with her.”

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