My fists clench. “Don’t call me that.”
A hint of resigned amusement flickers through her eyes, but it’s quickly gone.
Waving down a serving girl, I order for both of us. Madinia allows it, her gaze on the fire, eyes empty.
“We’ve stabled the horses,” I mutter. “We may as well spend the night at the inn next door.”
She shakes her head. “We can’t risk it. We should continue to move.”
“Why don’t you tell me which direction we’re traveling, and I’ll determine that?”
Taking a map from my pocket, I unfold it, placing it on the table between us. She gives me that stubborn look again. The one that makes my gaze drop to her lips.
“You know we need to work together,” I remind her.
With a sigh, she brushes one finger over the map. “We’re traveling west.”
There are only a few places she could have hidden the grimoire that could have ensured no one would find it for so many years. I study the map, and she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.
“And you wonder why I won’t tell you where it is. Already you’re attempting to find it without me.”
“It’smine,” I grind out.
“And it has already cost countless lives. Because Regner found one ofyourgrimoires and used it to fuel his madness.”
She’s placing the blame at my feet, and I want to kick it away. But…I can’t.
I have no memory of the man I was—the man who poured everything into three grimoires and let them loose on this world. Knowing what Idoknow of myself, I would have planned to find them immediately.
But I didn’t. Instead, a tyrant king found one. And that’s just the first grimoire. Madinia knows nothing of the second or third. Have they also caused the same pain and suffering on other continents? Centuries from now, will humans and hybrids and fae curse my name?
It’s…confronting, learning thatIam the threat, even if I have no memory of such a life. I do remember the war, though. I remember this woman, fleeing with villagers through a forest, ready to sacrifice her own life in order to buy innocents just a few more seconds. She lost people to Regner’s evil. People she cared about. Because of me.
Her face is pale as she pokes at her food, and my stomach churns as I push my own plate away.
I know nothing of her family—she has never spoken of them in my presence. But this is a woman who has known great loss. Most recently, she lost three years of her life, trapped in her body. Because ofmygrimoire.
Who might Madinia Farrow have been if not forme? What kind of life might she have enjoyed?
After everything she has lived through, most people would have saved themselves. Would have handed the grimoire to Kyldare, boarded a ship, and found a quiet life somewhere far from this place.
But she didn’t. She fought for people who will never know how much she sacrificed for them. And now she’s still fighting.
“Madinia.”
Her eyes meet mine, and they’re chillingly blank. This woman is such a force of nature, it’s almost easy for me to forget how fragile she was just days ago.
I reach for her hand, and she allows it, a hint of life returning to her eyes. “I am no longer that man. I’ve had centuries walking through this world, living as a mortal. I need you to trust that I will not destroy it.”
She studies my face. After a long moment, she nods.
“Fine. We’ll work together.”
“Fine.”
I ignore the voice whispering in my head. The one urging me to become whole once more. The one whispering that if Madinia stands between me and my full recovery, she will be the first to die.
Madinia