Page 112 of Soul of Thorns
When I walk back intomy room, Caelynn’s big eyes meet mine. I pause, taking it the sight.
She’s still a wreck—her hair disheveled, muck covering her body, bruises line her arms and bags are under her eyes.
But she’s here. Safe.
Home. In my bed.
“Rev.” Her voice is hoarse. Her eyebrows furrow. “What the hell happened?” she whispers.
I slowly approach the bed and sit beside her. She doesn’t meet my eye now.
“A lot,” I say. Because I’m not sure how to explain it. How to even find the words.
“I’m so confused.”
I take in a long breath. “I told you I wouldn’t leave you there.”
Her lips part. “But... at what cost?”
I swallow. Only time will tell. I ignore her question because I can’t bear to dwell on that now. She’s here. We’re both safe and alive and free. What happens in our world now that those monsters are free—well that’s a problem for tomorrow.
“We’re home and safe. Let’s focus on that, okay?”
She shakes her head, still staring at the soiled sheets. Blood and dirt streak across the once shiny material. “Why?” she whispers. “I’m not worth it.”
I suck in a long breath. “In that, Caelynn, I can promise, you are wrong.”
A gentle knock sounds on the door. “The bath is prepared, Prince Reveln.” The squeaky voice comes through the door.
“Thank you,” I call. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and we can talk through some more of this over a decent meal.”
Caelynn blinks rapidly and then nods. She scoots out of bed slowly and walks around to meet me. Her eyes are distant like she’s only half here with me. “Are you okay?”
She shivers but nods. She glances out the window. “What happened to the wraiths?”
“Most of them were set free, I think.”
She meets my eye. “Where is Darren, then?”
“Who?”
“My wraith... my...”
“Oh,” I mutter. “He... I’m not sure exactly what happened but I don’t think he’s—with us anymore.” I’m not entirely certain he died, it was more like he ceased to be.
She grimaces.
“He... did he help us? It’s all such a blur.” She runs her fingers through her hair.
“He did. And he told me to tell you, that you saved him. I don’t know what that means but...”
Her lips part. “Did he die?”
I shrug. “He began to glow and then disintegrated into dust, I think. I assume it was some kind of spell by the Night Terror.”
A short laugh escapes her lips. “No,” she says. “He was redeemed.”
