Page 29 of Of Kings and Thieves

I searched desperately for any spark of life amidst the wasteland, worse than anything the Darkrift had shown me.

Finally, I came upon Flint’s young wife, Rose, and her babe Thomas, broken bodies testifying to their violent end. Thomas’s tiny body lay nestled in his mother’s lifeless arms, her vibrant hair matted red with blood. The sight choked off my sob, constricting my throat. Our leaving had doomed them to this fate.

“Rose... Thomas...” I whispered their names like a prayer, as if that could resurrect them.

“We must keep searching,” Killian said heavily. Hope of finding my family alive was fading. If Rose hadn’t survived, what chance did Laney and my father have?

I raced to our ruined house, my heart tearing with each panicked step.

“Wait!” Killian called, but I couldn’t stop.

I hesitated before the blackened doorway, steeling myself for what awaited inside. With a shuddering breath I ducked under the doorframe and began sifting the ashes, praying for any sign of my father and sister.

“Please,” I whispered into the silence.

But the silence gave me no comfort. My trembling hands uncovered two charred bodies, both so badly burned that they were beyond all recognition. One was small, Laney’s size.

“No!” I wailed, clutching the crumbling remains of my loved ones against my chest. Something inside me shattered. My world disintegrated around me.

“Samara!” Killian tried to pull me away from the gruesome scene. I tore from his grasp with a scream of anguish and fury, my sorrow erupting in a blast of magic that sent him crashing down, unconscious.

But I didn’t care, unaware of where this power had come from. It was pure agony, primal grief given form.

I gasped for breath, vision darkening at the edges. With shaking fingers, I smeared ash across my clothes and skin, feeling as if I were spreading the remnants of my loved ones over myself.

“Forgive me,” I implored, my cracking voice barely audible. “Forgive me.”

Forgiveness would never come.

Grief and guilt crushed me, tearing my body and spirit apart. I was meant to save them, yet here they lay—dead and reduced to ashes.

“Gods... if only I’d been here. If only...”

The pain was too much to bear. I sank down, fingers curling around their fragile bones as I cradled the remains to my chest, rocking slowly.

“Please forgive me,” I begged again, my whimper barely a whisper. “Please…”

Killian stirred, sitting up swiftly as if expecting a threat. I ignored him until he grasped my arm. “We must go.”

I refused to look at him. “Just leave me.” Part of me wanted to unleash another primal scream, but I was spent, mind adrift.

“You must come,” Killian urged gently. “The magic here is fresh. Our enemies could return at any moment.”

“Can’t you see?” I cried bitterly. “I failed them. I failed everyone.”

“Your death won’t change what happened,” he said softly. “But if you stay, you will die.”

“I deserve it.”

“Samara, look at me.” Killian sat beside me in the ashes, his black cloak painted with dirt and soot. He waited until I met his eyes. “You cannot die here. Your fate lies in other lands.”

His words resonated, though I didn’t know why. I drew a shuddering breath, gazing at the bones as I cradled them. It felt like he was asking me to abandon my loved ones to their fate all over again.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” I croaked.

“They know you loved them.”

“But they didn’t know I was alive. I never came back. What kind of person does that to their family if they really love them?”

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