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“What you said in the tavern. You know it’s not true.”

Alora’s heart skipped, imagining how his eyes went bloodthirsty at the sight of her face. How he scanned the tavern to find the male who laid the bruise on her face.

“I know,” she breathed and lowered her head as all of it came flooring back.

“It doesn’t help when those he’s closest to see him as the villain. Garrik does very bad things, so we don’t have to. He has to remember who he is while playing the part of someone he’s not. And when we cause him to pit himself against us because of our own damn foolishness, like running off to bed the first female Guardian I’ve seen since my Protected died instead of stopping Jade’s temper, it’s worse.” Thalon’s eyes hollowed out for a moment, scanning the ruble around them. Shame set in his face, and his thumb nervously rubbed his marked chest.

“Do you”—she hesitated—“want to talk about it?”

“The sex? Stars no.” He forced a smile yet went stiff-necked. Through the clean-cut beard, she could see his jaw flex and his chest rise in a deep breath. “They died in a place a lot like this. Ev—Everlyn was traveling back to visit our families at the Keep for a sacred holiday, celebrating Maker’s passing from life to life. She was a Protected—married. My wife. Her Guardian duties were discharged once she became with child.” Thalon smiled. “Koen. We had so many dreams for him.” The golden spheres in his eyes glistened.

Alora’s heart fluttered at his smile but faded … as it was only fueled by a memory. One he was lost in. One that, for a moment, was so real that it froze him solid to the ash-covered wall. She let him bask in it, let him feel the hope that once filled his heart. Until his eyes blinked and his glowing orbs dulled.

“I hadn’t seen her in weeks and assumed that she’d arrived at Tarrent-Garren. She wanted to endure the journey instead of taking my portal home. Magic worried her. She was uneasy about transporting through space being with child.

“I don’t know why she was there. Why she was in that place. Maybe she fell ill or was resting from the journey. But when I arrived, leading the second battalion of the Ravens through a freezing thunderstorm, as was my sacred duty to do as my High King commanded … and saw that entire town was leveled to thick rubble and mud without a single scorch mark … like a solid wave of air slammed into everything at once.” He paused and shuddered a breath. “And saw the entire population laid in rows, bones crushed, their bodies so mangled it was hard to recognize them as once living beings.”

Burning hot tears relentlessly streamed down Alora’s face.

“Her wings were the first thing I saw. Broken. Shattered. At odd angles and snapped. The pearl white smeared with blood. And I saw …him, standing in the rubble. Saw his black eyes scanning the sea of bodies while Ravens loaded one faerie into a prisoner cart. A child screaming for its mother who laid beside Ev.

“He watched me as I lifted her, as I took her Earned from her braids. And, like usual, he briefed me. Showing me in my mind what had happened. He slaughtered them all at once … killed her. My son.”

Alora’s stomach threatened to empty at the insinuation. “Wh—who killed them?” But her heart already knew.

The hard lump of Thalon’s throat bobbed as liquid lined his eyes. His hands shook enough that his fingers dug into his bursting biceps with enough strength to bruise thinner skin.

“The Savage Prince,” Thalon’s voice cracked in a painful whisper.

The air ripped from her lungs.

Thalon’s knees shook. “Garrik wasn’t Garrik. He was my brother held captive. And now, he lives with the pain of his past every day. Staring at the reminder every time he looks at me, looks at Ev’s line of Earned in my braids. The”—he shook his head—“villain in everyone’s story,” Thalon whispered as if to keep Garrik from hearing him. “Only, he’s not in mine. And she wouldn’t have wanted him to be. We were both fighting to get him back, to find a way. Garrik would’ve never done that if he could’ve stopped himself … if he wasn’t…” Thalon brushed his hands over his face and squeezed the back of his neck with a curse.

“If he wasn’t what?”

Thalon moved to speak, but Alora looked away for only a moment to cull the vomit rising in her throat. Her attention drew to a flare up of a flame four houses down, burning the dried kindling inside. A perfect distraction.

When she turned back, eyes still burning with tears, Thalon was no longer leaning against the building. Shoulders squared to her, his face was turned down in confusion as he brought his fingers to his ears and snapped twice.

Odd.She didn’t hear the snaps.

He took two heavy steps, stopping inches in front of her, and mouthed, “Can you hear me?”

Barely.All the sounds around them stilled to less than whispers. The loud pops of smoldering wood were gone. Grass blades twisting in the wind were only movements, even the chilled wind across their faces was silent.

Thalon’s voice was muffled like he was underwater. “Alora? Can you hear me?” he was screaming. She knew he was, yet she heard not even a whisper.

And then.

Everything detonated in an ear-piercing explosion.

They threw their hands to their ears and buckled under the intense pain. It was head-splitting. Deafening. Reverberating through her entire body as she twisted, hunching inward, begging for the sound to stop. Unearthly volume shattered through her eardrums. Her hands couldn’t hold it back, though they remained sealed against her bleeding ears. All sound—sounds she hadn’t heard in ages—attacked. Crying, laughing, high-pitched screams, shrieks of dragons, roaring of waterfalls, thunder, rocks tumbling from mountains, blazing infernos, the crashing of waves.

So many—too many—sounds. Her mind couldn’t focus on one alone.

A tattooed hand gripped around her wrist, pulling her attention, and Thalon mouthed, “Stay here.”

Before she could protest, a swirling cloud of thunderstorms and lightning appeared, showing a darkened, decrepit bedroom on the other side.