Page 93 of The Reaping Rose

Selia is here, but she’s not. Golden-brown strands sit tangled in the hairbrush on the table by the mirror. The bed is unmade but covered in blankets because her magic chilled her when she slept.

I pause at the bathing chamber, where I found her when I returned from Andare and learned what my mother had done in my absence—who she’d handed her to.

Selia’s head rested back on the ledge of the tub, cuts marring her neck, chest, and arms. Some fresh, some old. Bruising painted a thundercloud of purple and gray on one side of her ribs. All those wounds were nothing compared to the look in her eyes. Those males didn’t just break her body; they broke her spirit.

She looked up at me, and I knew everything had changed.

Her. Me. The trust that once existed between us.

I hadn’t been here to protect her.

When I confronted my mother about what her adviser had done to my sister, she’d pretended that she hadn’t known the extent of his sick fetishes. She feigned an apology, but there was no love behind it. I swore I’d never forgive her unless she let me be the instrument of his punishment. It was the one grace she gave me.

Weeks, I carved. I broke. I battered.

But not even his death erased what he’d done to Selia.

I turn my back on the bathing chamber just like I did the day I came to tell my sister the male who’d tortured and raped her was gone. Along with anyone in his circle who so much as knew about her presence in his manor, whether they participated or not.

She didn’t say anything as her eyes drifted off.

The female who stirred clouds over the garden to bloom the flowers earlier in the season, who hid in the curtains to jump out at me when I’d return from training in Andare, who smiled so bright that I wondered why the gods gifted her the magic of a storm, was gone.

She became as thunderous as her magic then, and her destruction was brutal.

My boots echo through the empty chamber as I cross to the door, pausing when a piece of jewelry catches my attention. The gold ring flickers beneath the aether light, but the gray moonstone remains dull. I gave her this ring as a gift for her birthday over a century ago, but she left it behind when she went to ease relations with Malachi. My fingers graze over it one last time before I leave the room and close the copper doors behind me.

A cool night breeze drifts the halls as I ease the shell of magic around the palace. I take a deep breath, but it does little to lighten the pressure in my chest.

When I reach my wing, Aurora is perched at an archway waiting for me. Her sea-green lace dress flutters around her thighs as she steps forward. A thin strap ties the fabric around her throat, and it’s all that holds her dress up. This is a scheme she’s played many times over the years when she came to my door and tried to convince me I’d made a mistake in ending us.

“It’s late, Aurora. Do you need something?”

“We’ve barely spoken since you’ve returned.” She presses her shoulders back, her sage eyes softening. “We used to be friends.”

I hum, continuing down the hallway, but she follows me.

“We used to be more.” She glances up when I stop in my tracks, turning to face her.

“Elorie may be away right now, but if you disrespect my mate, I will have you out of this palace—this territory—before you finish your thought.”

Her shoulders tense, but she doesn’t break my gaze. Her lips press tight, her eyes narrowing. “Is it really that simple for you to let me go after all I’ve done for Quietus—for Vaelier? Don’t pretend you didn’t care about me once. That you didn’t ask me personally to look after your kingdom when you left. I fought for you. For your people. And you brush me off like I’m nothing?”

Her chin is held high. Her jaw tense. But the slightest hint of hurt bleeds through.

“You are not nothing, Aurora. But we are nothing to each other, and you need to accept that. The judgments angled at Elorie—this.” I wave my hand between us. “You wait until the moment she’s away to address this with me like I’ll forget her existence the second she’s out of sight. It’s disrespectful, and I won’t have it.”

“So loyal.” She huffs. “Does she know how easily you get bored?”

“Bored?” I can’t help but laugh. “She’s my mate.”

“The fates have been wrong before.” Aurora shrugs. “We understand each other, Wilder. I know what this realm needs. While she fights for her people, you need someone at your side who stands for Vaelier. You need someone who fights for you and isn’t off chasing possibilities.”

She reaches for my arm, but aether snags her wrist before she makes contact. My magic reacted before I did, as loyal to my mate as I am.

It takes all my restraint to coil my anger as I take a step back.

“Elorie fights for her people and ours. She puts herself at risk for any chance that we might be able to fix this. She sacrifices for Vaelier. For you. For me.” I square my shoulders while Aurora stands tense before me. “As for boredom or the fates or anything else, I am not going to bother explaining myself to you because you would not understand it. Elorie will be my queen, and you will accept it or leave.”