Page 104 of Only Flames Remain

I pulled away from her, a question in my eyes. “But my ears…” My finger traced the soft, wet skin. They weren’t pointed.

It was still possible that it was common magic—that my father was fae. Sorin himself had ears that were barely pointed as a halfling. But why would my mother go through so much trouble to conceal that? Halflings weren’t as castigated as humans were in Myros. My life would have been much easier had that been the case.

What was it that my mother was trying to hide from me? Who could my father be?

I wished desperately that I were back in Myros and I could ask her myself.

“Do you know who my father is?” I asked Enora, pulling back to search her gaze.

She shook her head. “I don’t. Only that we needed to keep your magic a secret.”

But to what end?

Since the moment I had stepped foot in Gothryn, nothing had gone according to plan. I had failed to adhere to Queen Dyata’s plan. I had failed to poison the dragon prince. I failed to even set eyes on the ancient relic dagger she spoke of. I failed to do anything, really, except confuse myself and my own feelings.

I pushed back from them both with a frustrated huff, my gaze falling to my water-logged boots. The robe and shift beneath were clinging to me uncomfortably. I was overstimulated and angry, my emotions threatening to bubble over in a wild torrent.

I didn’t have control of myself, evident by the outburst of magic. I needed to get away from this place.

I made for the door but Sorin was before me in an instant, his wings at his back, chest heaving. His inky hair was plastered to his skin, droplets of water running down his face.

“Where are you going?”

I pushed past him, making for the door once more. He reached out to stop me, and I slipped my arm out of his grip easily. “I need to be alone, Prince. Please do not follow me.”

I stormed out of his chambers, leaving the double doors ajar in my wake. One glance over my shoulder confirmed Enora remained standing amid the reeds, her boots planted in the center of a pool of water.

Sorin watched as I went, unmoving.

I wasn’t sure where I was going, only that I needed to get away.

I had no idea how to control the threads of power simmering inside of me, and I didn’t want to hurt anyone.

I felt betrayed.

By not only my mother, but by Enora. That they would both keep something this important from me. That they would allow me to poison myself.

I felt betrayed by my own thoughts.

How could I care about any of this? I had all but forgotten the reason I had come here in the first place. To appease Queen Dyata so that I could be with Kallias.

If I loved him so much, how could I feel even an inkling of something toward Sorin?

I tore into my room angrily, slamming the door shut behind me. I quickly slipped out of the wet shift and left it crumpled on the floor. I pulled on a simple day dress, a powder blue with minimal embellishments. I loosely plaited my hair into a braid down my back to keep the wet tendrils out of my face. I only had the one pair of boots, so I turned them upside down, allowing the water to empty directly onto the floor.

I shoved my feet back into them and took to the corridor, all but running down the hall. Quinnick hadn’t been in the bed where I had left him—he must be traversing the castle somewhere. I didn’t have the energy nor was I in the mood to track him down at the moment.

I needed to put as much distance between this palace and myself as possible.

It was dawn in Gothryn, the sun kissing the tree line with orange and pink rays as it made its ascent into the morning sky. I burst through the front doors and down the steps, grateful that I needn’t worry about running into anyone this early. The staff were likely just rising for the day.

Frustration strangled me like a tangible thing, choking off any words and sending a river of tears down my face. I angrily took the road toward Scaldrithor on foot. I wiped the tears from my frosty cheeks with the back of my hands.

I was spiraling out of control and there was no one here who could stop it. I should want to find Kallias—to fall into his arms. But I hadn’t been thinking of Kallias at all.

I had only been thinking of myself.

I desperately needed to know who my father was, and why my mother had hidden it from me. Why Enora and her mother had agreed to go along with the deception. Why she had allowed me to be raised as a lowly human, enduring the torture Queen Dyata had foisted upon me when she found out about us.