Page 155 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“Miss DeLeoste,” he said with a dip of his chin, and without another word, he turned a befuddled Devinli around and escorted him down the row.

Emmeline only had a beat to wonder what that was about before⁠—

“Huntress.”

No.

He couldn’t be here, but his voice curled on the air like it was made to call to her.

Her body turned of its own volition, took a step toward him even as horror sank icy claws into her chest.

“Reckless,” she nearly whimpered.

He was there, standing at the end of the row, the well at his back and wrists unchained. Fates, how was he here? Why?

She hadn’t seen him this close since before the second trial, when he’d been healing in her bed.

When she’d sworn to the stars she’d give him up if they saved him.

“You’re okay?” Emmeline asked, voice breathy.

“I haven’t been okay for a while.” He said it casually, but her heart wrenched with the emotions stifled beneath it. With the guilt and agony that turned him more haunted and duller by the day, that heightened the reckless glint in his eye. “But I’m unharmed.”

Relief tangled with everything else she was feeling, but she didn’t let it show. Didn’t let herself fall into him as her body screamed to.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Roremar’s stare picked her apart. “You ask that as if you don’t know I’m here for you, Emmeline.”

Fine, he was going to be blunt. She would, too.

“Leave. You need to go back to…” She didn’t even know where he’d been imprisoned. She’d kept herself busy so she wouldn’t follow the urge to visit him. “They’re going to be looking for you.”

“They aren’t,” Roremar said, confident. His eyes begged her to come closer. “Not yet, at least.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I’ve made a few allies since this tournament began. They ensured my guards won’t wake for quite some time.”

“That is so Fatesdamned reckless,” she groaned.

“What else do you expect me to do?” Roremar challenged.

Cheers and laughter echoed over the grapevines, moving toward them, and Emmeline jolted at the reminder of how close others were.

I can’t keep him.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said primly. “I’m happy you’re okay. I have to go.”

She turned on her heel, and something in the sudden severance of their sightline must have shattered Roremar’s restraint. His voice pitched in desperation, pulling her to a stop. “Emmeline, wait!”

She didn’t turn. Magic pounded at her mind, crackled through her veins. She didn’t dare look too closely at what the Fates were pushing her toward.

She knew what they wanted, and she could never give it to them. Never let them nudge her toward him only to harm him.

“I can’t,” she whispered. I miss you, she didn’t let herself add aloud. “I’m sorry.”

“Please,” he begged. “Just look at me.”