Page 129 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

Spinning on my heel, I stomp through the palace, ignoring the curious glances and sharp gasps when I bump into delicate shoulders or muscular biceps.

My vision blurs. My heart races too fast. My breaths are too quick. But I don’t stop. I can’t.

The marks on my arms bristle and tug.

For once, I don’t fight them. I follow their lead.

The dark marks pull me left through an ornate doorway, down a hall lined with more unsettling blond portraits. Their piercing eyes of violet follow me, pricking the back of my neck, as if they’ve uncovered my secret.

A secret I pray to Olyra is not true.

I step out into the blinding sun.

Raising my arm, I search the courtyard in front of me. It’s not the same one located in the center of the palace. This one faces the sea. The roar of the ocean smashes against the cliffside below—so loud it almost penetrates the thumping of my pulse through my ears.

Almost.

A blur of black commands my attention.

The haze surrounding my vision clears. My senses sharpen. Trees sway in the sea breeze. Bright flowers line the edge of the stonework.

But that’s not where my focus lies.

Rian and Draven spar, shirtless. The dark manacles contrast against their skin, which glistens with sweat.

If I weren't on the cusp of breaking down, I might pause to admire them.

As it is, my feet have a mind of their own.

They carry me forward while my pulse still pounds.

A vivid memory strikes.

Anton’s wide eyes, dragging over me after my magic shot from my body when the manacles forged in Fae Fire fell from my wrists…

I step onto the stone.

Anton’s shaky voice asking, “Did she just⁠—”

Silas cutting him off. “Yes.”

My other foot slides forward.

“Does he⁠—”

Silas silencing Anton once more. “Also yes. And that’s enough questions.”

The truth hits me harder than any of Fief’s strikes back in the dungeon.

The Fae… They knew.

The bastards knew.

All this time…after everything…

Rian knew the truth. And he didn’t tell me.

His silence stings the worst.