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“Thank you.” She took it and carefully slid it into her hair. “It’s lovely.”
“It’s charmed to stay in your hair unless you physically want to remove it.” Her father took her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Are you sure about this, Peri? It’s going to be hard to find someone who loves you as much as your mother and I do.” His voice broke, a stray tear rolled slowly down one cheek.
“You’re probably right.” She glanced around her bedroom, the former comfort now marred by splattered blood. “But I don’t need anyone to love me more than you do. I just need it to be different.”
Her love for both of her parents was woven into every part of her and in a way it almost hurt to know she’d never be rid of it. Leaving would be much easier if she could separate her feelings from what she needed to do. Ever so gently, she pulled her hands from his and whispered, “I’ll be alright.”
“I’ll miss you,” he whispered back.
“I know.”
Then Zila was sprinting towards her bedroom window and the night swallowed them whole.
Lost to the world for hours unknown, Peri stirred to the soft hush of morning.
Dappled sunlight streamed through the nearby window, casting golden patterns against the walls. Zila’s steady, rhythmic breathing rumbled beneath her, the vibrations soothing.
Peri barely remembered when exhaustion had claimed her—only the feeling of sailing through shadows, her body breaking apart under the weight of everything she had done.
Now, her wounds had been cleaned. Her hand neatly bandaged. She inhaled, surprised by the scent of fresh cotton and white flowers clinging to the soft tunic she wore. Wherever she was, her gut told her she was safe.
Her head pounded viciously, and her stomach twisted in knots—a strange war between hunger and nausea. She shut her eyes again, listening to the distant song of the firedrakes outside, their wings rustling as they gathered flower petals for their morning feast. She was drifting again, on the cusp of sleep, when the soft click of a latch made her tense.
A door shut. Footsteps approached.
“Alright, Peri. Wake up and drink this tea. It’ll make you feel enormously better, I promise. It’s a personal recipe of mine that’s yet to meet a hangover it couldn’t cure.”
Peri’s breath caught.
Her heart swelled. And broke.
That voice—
She cracked an eye open. Brenn stood there, smirking down at her.
Chapter
Forty-One
PERINE WILDER
Agrin stretched across Peri’s face, slow and incredulous. Then, as relief crashed over her, the grin twisted into something wild, something unhinged, something too tangled with laughter and grief to make sense of.
Brenn plopped down beside her, throwing her head back against the wall with a rough chuckle.
Peri couldn’t stop laughing—deep, strangled laughter that bubbled up from the very pit of her chest. Brenn joined in, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you’re actually here!”
“I can honestly say,” Peri gasped between breaths, “there’s no place I’d rather be.”
She took the tea from Brenn’s outstretched hand, sipping slowly at first. As her stomach settled and her headache began to clear, she tipped the cup back and drank greedily.
Resting her head against Zila’s warm side, she sighed. “I feel much less like death now. You’re a maverick when it comes to medicinal potions and teas.”
Brenn snorted. “I’m the best of our year for a reason.”
Sitting here, laughing with her oldest friend in the world, was the most potent salve she could have found for her tattered soul. Peri leaned her head onto Brenn’s shoulder. “Have I mentioned I’m sorry for being a bad friend?”
Brenn exhaled a long breath. “I think shoving that disgusting chocolate in your mouth was a fairly dramatic apology.”
