Page 10

Chapter Ten

Annora

After I leave Emerin’s room, I head toward Asha’s study, desperate to talk to her again. I could never forgive myself if I didn’t try everything to bring her back to me.

When I reach the door, I find Commander Titanus standing there. He nods as I push it open and step inside.

Asha sits on a sofa, her shoulders curved inward. Next to her lies the wooden horse my nephew always carried everywhere.

My throat tightens. The last time I saw him, he was running through these halls, that same horse clutched in his tiny hand, his laughter echoing off the stone walls.

Now those halls are silent.

I take a step forward, but Asha doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge my presence. Her blue eyes, once as fierce as summer storms, stare unseeing at the far wall as the torchlight catches the tears tracking down her cheeks.

If my nephew were still here, none of this would be happening. Asha wouldn’t be lost in this fog of revenge. And she wouldn’t be working with Aleksander.

At least, I’d like to think she wouldn’t be where she is right now—so close to the edge, so close to falling into a bottomless pit of bitterness and hatred.

“Asha,” I say softly, not wishing to upset her, but to reach her and make her see that I’m still here. That I still love her. That I’ll always love her.

Tears shimmer in her eyes as she lifts them to me. “What are you doing, Annora?”

“Trying to reach my sister.” My heart clenches as I sit across from her and continue. “I love you, Ash. And I miss you so much.”

She sniffs but doesn’t respond.

“It’s not too late to change everything.”

Her arms tense, and for a heartbeat, I think she might respond, but she doesn’t.

“Ash,” I say, my voice fracturing. “You could start a new life.”

Something sparks in her gaze—a hint of longing, perhaps, or a glimmer of the girl she used to be. “It’s not that simple.”

“But it could be.”

Her attention drifts back to the toy. “I can’t. I’ve come too far to turn back now.”

My heart sinks, but I refuse to let go. “Asha, please. This path you’re on, it will only lead to more pain, more suffering. For all of us.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, and the finality in her voice makes my chest ache. “But I have to do this for our future.”

“Our future?” My voice trembles, but I still say the words. “What future is there in revenge? In allying with a snake like Aleksander?”

Her fingers clench into fists. “You don’t understand. House of Crimson needs to pay for what they did.”

“And then what?” I lean forward, desperate to break through her walls. “When everyone’s dead and gone, when there’s nothing left but ashes, will it bring your son back?”

Her voice cracks as she lashes out. “Stop!”

Still desperate to reach her, I press on. “Remember when we were little? How you’d tell me stories about the stars while we sat in the garden? How you taught me to be brave when Grandfather—”

“—that’s enough, Annora.” She stands abruptly and laces her hands together.

“You were my protector,” I say in a raw voice. “My tide. You kept everything flowing, kept me safe. Where’s that sister now?”

Her expression softens, and for a moment, I see her—my Asha, the one who’d chase away my nightmares and kiss my scraped knees. Then, that look is gone, replaced by a coldness that could freeze all of Bakva.

“That sister died with her son, and she’s not coming back.” How flat her words are. How emotionless.

Pain threads around my heart, but I continue, needing to say these words. “I love you. I’ll always love you. Even if you can’t love yourself anymore.”

She glances away, her shoulders rigid. “Leave, Annora. Please .”

That please —so soft, so broken—shatters what’s left of my heart. Because in it, I hear the echo of my sister crying out from whatever dark place she’s trapped herself in, but I can’t reach her, can’t save her.

So, I do the one thing she asked. I walk away.