Page 6 of A Rising Hope (The Freckled Fate #3)

6

GIDEON

A tiny drop of wax slowly slid down the half-burned candle. The only light in the aged cabin was warm candlelight, casting dancing shadows on the rough-hewn walls.

It had been years since I had last seen my half brother. His beard was sprinkled with a few new streaks of silver. The deep wrinkle in between his brows became more prominent, his cheeks more sunken. His body withered notably from the high-altitude sun after so many years.

Godric scoffed a few times now, still not saying a word. He sat across the worn-out kitchen table from me. His large arms folded; muscles tensed; lips pressed flat. His dark brown eyes, so similar to mine, scanned me up and down, not hiding any of his clear repugnance at my presence.

“Why now?” he finally uttered. “What’s changed?” His gaze hardened.

“Perhaps I’ve come to my senses after all these years,” I replied nonchalantly, giving him a light smirk, one I knew would irritate him.

“Bullshit, Gideon,” Godric hissed. “Don’t take me for a fucking idiot. All these years you’ve known. All this time . . . and now you show up in the middle of the night suggesting we follow through with the plan?”

“Since when do you care for the reason?” I countered, letting him question me, question my intent, while restraining the rage within, eager to remind him precisely of who I was.

“Since I’ve learned how much of a selfish prick you are,” Godric spat, aggravated. “You do nothing out of the goodness of your heart. Much less sacrifice yourself for the betterment of the world.”

“You paint me to be such a villain.” My weary chuckle rumbled against the loud storm outside.

“If it looks like shit, smells like shit, it probably is shit.” Godric’s thick brow furrowed.

His words didn’t offend me.

I was the villain—I held that title proudly. I was glad to take on that role, to play my part. The world wanted me to be the villain, so I was. A damn good one, too.

I let Godric question me, let him have a mirage of control. Even when both of us knew he had no choice. His little game of ten questions, his standoffish attitude, did absolutely nothing but succor his wounded ego. His life depended on his cooperation; he knew that very well. But I wanted him to be grateful. I needed his cynical heart to show more kindness for what lay ahead. So, I let him push me. I let him have his win.

“You are quite jaded for a Healer, Godric.” I tilted my head to the side, observing him.

“Being constantly hunted by your kind does that to you,” he shot back.

“And yet you are still alive. I guess my kind didn’t do a good enough job.” My eyes met his. An unspoken warning settled between us, reminding him precisely of the cost I had paid for him to keep his life.

“While I am grateful to be alive, let’s be frank—the act wasn’t done out of your kind, brotherly love—you knew of my magic, of my skill, and that’s what kept me alive that day. Not you.”

I shrugged, not correcting him. He was so determined to see the worst in me.

Everyone was.

And I’d let them.

After all, the role I masterfully played came with certain benefits. I let the fire flicker in my eyes, matching the steady glow of the candlelight. A simple sign that my patience had run its course.

“I just want to know what sick, twisted game you are throwing me into, Gideon. It’s not that big of an ask considering the task at hand.” His lips were still pressed down in a thin line, but his glower softened. His eyes flashed with a glimpse of remorse at the harshness of his previous words.

I forced myself to take a slow, full breath, letting out air gradually, considering the millions of pieces in motion. The throbbing headache that had not stopped from the moment Insanaria marked me with her magic made me almost senseless. My thoughts tortured me with endless outcomes, each tainted with sheer, unfamiliar terror.

One wrong move.

One wrong step.

One wrong word, smile, breath.

One careless decision and she’d be dead.

My little wildfire .

Her laugh, the memory of her touch, her divine image—the only light amid the suffocating darkness that the world had become in her absence. Her daring, courageous eyes illuminated the deadly despair lingering in my soul like a hungry scavenger, ready to tear me apart at its first chance.

The muscle in my temple twitched.

I looked at the fogged-up window from the storm. The low quality glass, worn from time, peeked out from behind the ragged curtains nestled in between the low ceiling and tall shelves packed with all manners of jars. A loud crackle of thunder roared through the night, followed by another bright flash of lightning illuminating the room. Godric’s broad figure cast a grim shadow at the unpolished kitchen table.

Time was sand, simply slipping past my fingers.

The Queen wouldn’t dare harm her.

At least not for seven days.

I knew that.

And yet it didn’t make this any easier. Even submerging deep into the Numb, the searing agony within me receded only slightly, still gnawing at my every thought, consuming every living cell of my being.

No, the Queen wouldn’t touch her.

But that relied on the simple fact that she didn’t know who Finnleah was. The moment she found out . . .

My thoughts rattled, and panic crept up my veins at the possibility.

A dangerous gamble. A bet with time itself.

And I was not going to rely on luck. My eyes darted back to Godric. I leveled my breaths, forcing my jaw to relax.

“I come now because there is finally an answer to the one part we could never quite figure out. There was always one missing part in our plan?—”

“Yes, how to actually find the location of the Queen,” Godric said.

“Well now, we can.”

“You got her blood?” His face painted with disbelief.

“Not hers. But someone she now has by her side.”

“What? Who?” He scratched his lengthy beard, attempting to hide his nervous tic, as his foot tapped on the long slabs of wood that served as floor. The muscle in my temple twitched, wrath and rage curling like a giant wave ready to devour everything, but I forced myself to take another calculated breath instead.

With a heavy gaze, I summoned a few drops of Finnleah’s blood taken so many moons ago from the blood oath we exchanged. As small as a few drops of rain, they floated above my finger.

“ My wife ,” I answered, as I met his gawking stare.

If the previous words had shocked him—these disgusted him.

“You swore to abandon that Destroyer’s tradition,” he bitterly spat, a deep frown stamped across his face.

“I did.”

“And yet you are married? Soulbonded too?” His nostrils flared, anger in the corner of his eyes.

“I am.” I raised my wrist up, exposing an intricate band with a simple black ring on it. The knots were still fresh on the leather strap. The bonding cut barely healed from the secret ceremony only a few nights prior. There was no point in hiding it, he already knew that. Healers, especially at his level, could smell the freshly mixed blood of our Soulbond with a little effort.

His eyes widened at me, repugnance and utter apprehension painted across his every feature.

Perhaps it was pure desperation crying from the far depths of my lost soul, but for once I’d let my brother see me.

Actually, truly, see me as I dropped the heartless mask.

He hesitated for a moment, taken aback at the sudden change, at his realization.

“Do not tell me you have fallen in love.” He shook his head. “You are incapable of it.”

“And yet I have.” The merciless agony at the words twisted my soul.

“The world must truly be coming to an end then.” Godric rubbed his face, still trying to come to terms. “And this girl, this woman . . . she . . . she shares the same feelings for you?” He glanced back at me in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“You are married ,” he mumbled the words, pinching the bridge of his nose before returning his stare to me. “You are married and have a wife.” His eyes widened as he understood. “The Queen has your Soulbond.”

“Ah, so you see the predicament I am in?” I clasped my hands together, resting them atop my knee, letting the sleeves of my shirt drop inconspicuously, hiding the wedding band away from the world.

Godric let out a long sigh. His features softened as his eyes darted between mine.

I did not speak the actual words.

I was unable to.

My tongue was incapable of uttering the cursed words.

But for better or for worse, my brother understood.

The storm quieted outside, only occasional gusts of wind whistling on the other side of the walls.

“I will keep her safe.” Godric promised at last. And I gave him an appreciative nod.

Sorrow and relief flooded into my pained heart at the same time.

She’d be okay.

Finnleah would be okay.

Even if it was without me.