Page 28 of Sophie's Ruin
Waylon seemed to think it over. “I don’t know, Sophie. She’s old and wise. I doubt she would be giving you that advice if she didn’t have a very good reason.”
“There is no reason good enough to hold me back. Especially not now,” I said vehemently.
Waylon’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but clamped it shut when Amelie cracked open the front door and poked her head out.
“Tea is ready,” she announced with a small smile.
Her lips turned down as her gaze darted between Waylon and me.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, opening the door wider and stepping onto the porch.
“Did Celeste give instructions not to help me with my magic?” I asked the girl.
“She did,” she admitted, and I shot Waylon a pointed look—see.
“But I’m sure it’s for your own good,” Amelie added, her brows knitting. “Celeste only has your best interest at heart.”
When I scoffed and averted my gaze, it landed on the busy street.
“It’s late. Why is everyone still out and about?” I asked, curious.
“The Dark Witches were most active at night, so we adopted the same lifestyle to be better protected from them. We didn’t want them to catch us unawares if they ever broke through the protective barrier surrounding the village,” Amelie explained. “Some of us are still active during the day, of course, to keep watch and to tend to our gardens.”
“Smart,” I murmured to myself, still looking at the people going about their day, or rather, night.
Some were carrying pails of water from the well at the other end of the village, while others were trading root vegetables and herbs. A group of women sat on the porch steps of one of the cabins, mending clothes together, while their children played, their laughter spilling into the night. The sounds of hammering and wood-chopping echoed through the settlement from where a few men were fixing one of the houses.
Absentmindedly, I let my gaze glide over all the activity until it snagged on Isabelle and Wren. They appeared to be out for an evening stroll, looking relaxed next to each other as they walked at a leisurely pace. Isabelle was so immersed in her conversation with Wren that it took a few minutes before she picked up on my scent. When she did, her head swung in my direction, andshe placed a hand on Wren’s arm to stop him in his tracks. He followed her gaze, and together, they adjusted their course and began making their way toward the cabin. Jealousy spiked as I watched them, my brows pinching in a frown. I wished it was Henry and me walking around the village. I knew he would have been overjoyed to see the settlement and all its people. Pushing the unpleasant feeling aside, I willed my frown to smooth out as Isabelle and Wren approached where I was standing.
“Sophie, how are you?” Isabelle asked, her brown eyes fastening on me.
There was genuine concern in her voice, and I almost laughed at how far we’d come. Ever since I’d turned, she’d been tolerant of me at best. Now, she was beginning to treat me more like a sister, everything happening with the clans bringing us closer together.
“I’m okay,” I lied. “How are you?”
My gaze flicked over her features. She looked well in a navy dress with her black curls left down to frame her face. It seemed the beating she’d taken three nights ago was now a distant memory. Wren looked well, too, standing next to her. I quickly appraised the young man. His pale-blue eyes shone, and a healthy pink hue colored his cheeks—Isabelle had been giving him her blood. It wasn’t the only thing she’d been giving him—I could smell her on him, and him on her, their scents intermingled. My longing for Henry intensified.
“I’m doing okay,” Isabelle said, forcing a smile. It came out more like a grimace and didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m worried about Henry,” she admitted, the corners of her mouth turning down. “How is the magic training going? Will we be able to go after him soon?”
Waylon cast his gaze down at her words, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else but here for this conversation.
I gritted my teeth at the question. Everyone was waiting on me before we could act. My chest constricted with pressure as the weight on my shoulders became heavier, almost impossible to bear.
“It’s only been three nights.” I repeated the same words I’d said to Waylon. They came out as a hiss, but Isabelle seemed unaffected by my menacing tone.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” she asked.
Can you speed it up?the question truly meant. She knew there wasn’t anything in their power to help me.
“No, this task lies solely on me. I know that. You know that. Everyone knows that. So why can’t you all just trust that I’m doing the best I can? I know what’s at stake. It’s my skin stretching tauter over my bones the longer I’m away from Henry. The desperate desire to put an end to this burns brighter in me than in all of you. And Iwillput an end to this, mark my words.”
Isabelle’s eyes widened at my outburst, the whites strikingly contrasting her rich-brown skin. Wren scowled, placing a hand on her lower back.
“I know, I just… You are not alone in this,” Isabelle said softly, compassion infusing each word.
This new side of her set me on edge. It felt as if we’d switched places because she was demonstrating more humanity at the moment than me.
“Iamalone in this,” I told her. “I am alone unless Henry is by my side. And hewillbe by my side soon. I won’t have it any other way.”
