Page 14 of Hero of Havoc

Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else. I can't tell whether his silence and the extra distance between us are because he's aware of our audience, or if he knows I feel like a ticking time bomb, ready to go off.

To my surprise, he leads me toward the main academy building, slipping around the back instead of heading through the double doors that lead toward the dining hall and the other communal areas.

The back entrance reveals a winding staircase, and I let him guide me into the depths of the unknown. When we reach the bottom, a dimly lit room comes into view. A desk sits along the far wall, with storage cabinets scattered around the space, and a single door leading off to the right.

“Do you want to go in alone or do you need company?” Silas asks, and I shake my head.

“Alone,” I breathe, and he nods without question.

He strides toward the door, doing something I can’t quite see before the sound of it clicking open echoes through the room.

It’s jarring.

Apprehension takes root, but I carry it like a weapon rather than falling victim to it this time.

Before my nerves can get the better of me, I inch the door open farther to find an even dimmer space come into view. A walkway runs down the center, with barred cells on either side; only one has a light above it, and I take that as my beacon.

The door clicks shut behind me as I take small, measured steps, making my way to the far end, finding a familiar frame hunched on the floor in the far corner.

My heart races at the sight of my father contained against his will.

It’s startling yet breathtaking all at the same time.

Once upon a time, this man loomed over my life; the puppeteer, the master of my freedom, and now he's nothing but a man captured and powerless. It's a stark contrast from the man who dominated not only our home, but our entire town, and I wonder what Heaven's Ridge is like right now without his presence.

Taking a step closer, I'm caught off guard by two strong scents. The smell of fire fluttering like ashes ingrained into the bars. Yet the other, more familiar scent lingering in the air is… Archer.

He's been here. I know it.

Shaking my head, trying to empty my thoughts, I keep my mouth shut as I stare at my father.

There's something about him that feels like a reflection of what lingers inside of me. I just can’t quite put my finger on what that actually is. But one thing is clear: I'm safer now than I ever have been in his presence.

Any connection I had with this man is gone, and acknowledging it sparks something inside me.

“How does it feel to be on the other side of the fence?” I murmur, and his eyes dart to mine, anger snarling at the corner of his mouth as his gaze narrows.

To my surprise, he lurches to his feet with more agility than I expect, curling his fingers around the bars, but I refuse to take a step back.

“You useless bitch, help me out of here.”

Anger burns through me. “I may not know much about what or who I am, but I am far from useless,” I retort, rage coiling in my stomach.

“You listen to me,” he warns, jabbing a finger in my direction. “Leonardo will come to my aid, and when he does, he⁠—”

“I’ve spent forever listening to you and your bullshit,” I interject—my new favorite thing to do—but I’m bored with whatever threat, promise, or warning is set to come from him. “Now look at us; you are nothing.”

I don't know where this venom is coming from, but it's deep-rooted. The words are fire on my tongue, like they’re being edged forward by my phoenix.

“I’m everything,” he snaps back, and I shrug, tilting my head at him.

“It seems without my mother, you. Are. Worthless.”

He snarls and snaps, attempting to grab me through the bars, but I'm a single breath out of reach.

I'm getting under his skin, doing to him what Leonardo did to me, and I hate how there’s something so enticing about it.

“So did you manipulate her, make her twisted, for control? Or was she already like that when you met?” I ask, and he scoffs, his knuckles white as he grasps the bar tight.