Page 9 of A Storm of Fire and Ash

My eyelids struggled to open, heavy and swollen from the stream of tears that had flowed uncontrollably. I had to pry them apart as they were glued shut by grief.

The strangeness of my surroundings closed in on me, tightening my chest like a vice.

Where was I?

The walls loomed around me, a lifeless shade of gray, starkly devoid of the warmth and comfort that my home had once provided.

Home.

Mother.

Royal-Fae.

Memories surged back violently, flooding my mind like a tidal wave, each fragment sharper than the last—fury, grief, and the nightmarish flash of flames engulfing everything I had held dear.

I killed her.

The cold realization struck me like a punch to the stomach—I had killed my mother. Her words for just me to know, repeated back in my mind over and over again.

A wave of nausea filled the pit of my stomach, rising bitterly to the back of my throat. I scrambled from the bed and stumbled into the bathroom that was incongruously attached to this prison of a room.

After what felt like an eternity of puking up my guts, I leaned against the cool tile wall, my body quaking as memories replayed in vivid detail on repeat.

The searing heat that had licked my skin but hadn’t left a mark, the crackling of flames consuming everything in their path, and the anguished cries that had escaped my lips, filled with dread.

I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to shut out the relentless parade of vivid images swirling in my mind. Panic gripped my chest, each breath becoming increasingly shallow as I realized I was spiraling into a panic attack—an all-too-familiar feeling.

My sobs erupted once more, raw and uncontrollable, stealing away my breath and leaving me gasping in its wake.

I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks, mingling with the slickness of sweat as my throat constricted, a futile attempt to draw in life-giving air.

Instead, I was met with a profound emptiness, a hollow sensation that echoed through my body, amplifying the sense of despair threatening to consume me whole.

Frantically, I clawed at my throat, as if doing so could somehow compel my lungs to work.

The world around me faded into a blur, and I curled into myself, wrapping my arms tightly around my knees, drawing them against my chest like a shield.

The haunting image of my dying mother loomed in my mind, refusing to fade, overcasting everything with a suffocating darkness.

“No, no, no! Please! Make it stop!” I screamed, the words tearing from my throat as I rocked back and forth, each motion a desperate plea for relief from the torment that gripped my heart.

Flames started to ignite on my palms as electricity danced along my fingertips. I shook my hands aggressively, trying to put out the flames and make the electricity disappear. “I don’t want this! I don’t want any of this!” I cried out.

Sturdy hands grasped my shoulders.

“Divine! Breathe, Elara. For fuck’s sake.”

I jumped at the sudden voice, my heart racing as I scrambled to my feet. In a surge of panic, fire erupted from my hands, flickering and dancing like a chaotic flame.

His strong hands tightened around my shoulders, grounding me as he urged, “Look at me, Elara.”

I lifted my gaze to meet Zayn’s intense green eyes, confusion swirling within me as my magic began to fizzle and fade. I didn’t remember him being this good-looking... Now that he was up close, I couldn’t look away from him.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, realization hit me with full force: Zayn had witnessed everything the night before.

He had seen my magic, was currently seeing my magic again, and he knew what I truly was.

The weight of that knowledge settled heavily in my chest, leaving me breathless and vulnerable.

A part of me silently screamed to panic and run, the other part frozen in place, strangely calm despite the impending dread that he was going to reveal my secret to the King and condemn me to death.

“What—Zayn? W-what are you doing? What’s happening? Where am I?” My words tumbled out in a frantic rush, each question hanging in the air with desperation.

“Are you going to be calm? I need you not to set this place on fire, or else our cover will be blown. Can you do that, Elara? Or do you need to keep being babysat and influenced to breathe calmly?” He asked in a curt tone. His eyes darted back and forth between mine, waiting for an answer.

I nodded.

He let go of my shoulders, and all of my feelings rushed back. “How did you do that?” I asked, my brows pinched together.

“You and I are the same.” He waved his hands over his ears, and his glamor dropped, showcasing his pointed tips.

I gasped.

“No one can know. Not even the prince, got it?” he said in a deep, husky voice that gave me the chills.

I wanted to reach forward and touch his ears. I didn’t know why I had that urge, but I did, and I fought it hard.

“Elara! I asked you a question.”

His tone made me jump.

Sheesh. “Yeah, I fucking got it,” I snapped back.

He glared into my eyes like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t.

“You are at the castle. I had already told Prince Fintan that you are here. I don’t have a ton of time to explain as I have to go away for a few weeks.

But you are safe here with Eryndor. You are in the guard wing of the castle, and her room is right across from mine.

.. which is where you are now. I’m going to glamour your ears until I return and can teach you to do it yourself.

” He didn’t wait for me to say anything; he just waved his hands over my ears as if he were a Mage.

I guess everything I’ve ever known was a lie…

He started to walk back into his room and nodded for me to follow. “Eryndor is Fae as well. She knows what you are, and she is going to help you with your magic while I am gone.”

My heart started to race again.

The palace… I couldn’t be here!

“Eryndor can only help you with so much with your magic. She will train you to make you more physically strong, since you are lacking in that department…” He sighed, “I will take care of the rest when I return. This is the only place you can be since you burned your house down,” he said a little too aggressively for my taste.

His words made my heart sink, and a tear fell down my face.

Could he hear my thoughts? No... impossible.

Fucking asshole.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I meant, you are safe here as long as you stay with Eryndor and don’t tell the Prince you are Royal Fae.”

“What am I going to do here?!” I exclaimed, frustration bubbling over as I began to pace anxiously across the marble floor, each step echoing like a drumbeat in the vast chamber. The walls felt like they were closing in, the pressure mounting by the second.

“That isn’t my concern!” Zayn snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through bone. He raked his fingers through his long silver hair with an irritated groan, barely sparing me a glance. “You think I have time to coddle you right now?”

His tone hit harder than a slap.

Gods, he was a dick.

“Just, take a damn breath,” Zayn urged, his voice steady and calm amidst my growing agitation.

“The Prince will ensure he finds a suitable role here for you, something to cloak your presence so no one questions what you are doing here and who you are. Each week, new faces arrive at the palace, filled with diverse tasks, so you needn’t worry about that.

You simply need to stay out of trouble—keep your true nature a secret, and trust only my guards. Do you understand?”

Sounds to me like I’m just going to be a burden… maybe I should go live with Landen and his mother instead.

I swear I heard a low grumble from Zayn’s chest, but then a firm knock resounded against the heavy door, drawing both of our gazes.

It swung open to reveal a striking woman clad in armor that accentuated rather than concealed her form.

Unlike the typical bulky men’s armor, hers was specially tailored, featuring a beautifully crafted breastplate adorned with intricate gold filigree that enhanced her figure in an unexpectedly feminine way.

Her lavender hair caught the soft light, buzzed on one side, and cascaded down in a thick braid on the other, framing her face perfectly. The honeyed complexion of her skin glowed with an otherworldly radiance, making her appear both regal and fierce.

“Eryndor,” Zayn said softly, inclination in his voice as he met her gaze with a respectful nod.

She returned the gesture, her lavender hair falling slightly over her face in an intimate dance.

“I have to go; I should be back in a few weeks,” he added, approaching her.

He closed the distance, pressing his forehead gently against hers, as if this simple act could bridge the gap of their impending separation.

The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only an unspoken connection —a delicate exchange of profound emotions.

A weight had settled in my chest, an unwelcome guest of jealousy wrapping its fingers around my heart.

They shared no more words; their silence brimmed with unexpressed feelings.

She nodded once more, and he turned, walking out the door with purposeful strides, not casting a glance back in my direction.

Just like that, he was gone... without a single goodbye. Why had that seemed to bother me?

“Don’t worry about him. He can be a dick sometimes,” she had said with a gentle smile, attempting to dispel the tension in the air. “I’m Eryndor Swift, but please, call me Eryn.”

“H-hi... I’m Elara, but I guess you already knew that...” I had stammered, feeling my cheeks warm as my awkwardness consumed me. I fiddled nervously with my thumbs, lost in a swirl of insecurity, feeling like a fish out of water in that new and unfamiliar setting.

“The prince will be here soon,” Eryn had continued, her tone shifting to one of anticipation. “Once he learned what happened a few days ago and that you were here, he wanted to come right away. But Zayn wouldn’t let him.” Her words had hung in the air.

“A few days ago? How long have I been asleep for?” I asked, my voice thick with confusion as I struggled to process Eryn’s words. The bewilderment must have shown on my face, mirroring the swirl of emotions churning within me.

Eryn’s lips curled into a playful smirk, her silver eyes sparkling.

“I figured Zayn would have told you. Typical men,” she had teased lightly, attempting to alleviate the weight of the moment.

“You’ve been asleep for three days. It’s quite normal after your magic has been cooped up for so long.

Believe me, it can take a toll on a person. ”

She stepped closer to me, her movements graceful as she reached up to unloop a bag that had been slung over her shoulder.

“Here, I brought you some clothes. Nothing fancy, but it’ll do for now.

” She handed me the bag, the fabric rustling softly as it settled into my arms. “Feel free to treat Zayn’s room as your own—because it is yours now that he’s gone. ”

As I grasped the bag, a flicker of discomfort washed over me.

“Thanks...,” I murmured, glancing around the room and noticing how little it lacked Zayn’s belongings. The idea of staying in his room, saturated with memories that were not my own, made my skin prickle. “I could, um, stay somewhere else. I really shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong here...”

Eryn let out a soft laugh, shaking her head in understanding.

“Ah, Zayn anticipated you would say that. Girl, trust me, I don’t belong here either.

I came here with Zayn and two others a few years back.

Zayn had received a message whispered to him by the goddess about some prophecy and war, which compelled us to leave the Fae lands and come to Irongate—but he refused to tell us what was said. ”

“There are others here... like us?” I asked her.

Eryn nodded enthusiastically, her vibrant silver eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yup! Gavrin and Makar. You’ll meet them eventually.

” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone.

“Makar is a Worlock, and Gavrin is a Non-Royal Fae warrior. They stay close to King Aymon as guards, but you can trust them too... they are loyal to Zayn as I am, since he is of Royal blood.”

A flicker of curiosity ignited within me at the mention of Makar, for I had never encountered a Worlock before. Yet, despite my intrigue, only one question slipped from my lips: “Zayn is Royal Fae?”

A shadow of hesitation crossed Eryn’s face.

“Ah, I shouldn’t have said that… Why don’t you wash up and change out of Zayn’s clothes?

I doubt the prince will appreciate seeing you in those, since he seems to have a thing for you,” she suggested, her gaze sweeping over me critically before settling on the oversized tunic that draped awkwardly on my frame.

Good gods... did Zayn put these on me?

As if Eryn could read my emotions, she said, “Relax. I changed you. Zayn is too proper to have done that. You practically burned through your clothes and almost his cloak. You’ll have to learn to harness your fire so it doesn’t affect your clothing.”

My cheeks flushed a deep crimson as I realized my faux pas. “I’m so sorry! I will change out of his clothes right away!” I had stammered, crossing my arms in front of me in a futile attempt to cover up.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you wear. Why in the Divine would you apologize for that?” she had asked, genuine confusion etched across her features, her brow furrowing slightly.

“Oh, um… aren’t you two together?” I blurted, unsure of why the thought of them as a couple made my heart race.

Eryn burst into laughter, a warm, melodic sound that echoed delightfully off the stone walls of the room. I chuckled, too, although I was baffled as to why we were laughing.

“Great Divine, I can’t wait to tell Zayn that! That’s hysterical. I like you,” she had said, a teasing glint in her eyes. “But no, My Lady… Zayn is not… my type. He is more like a brother to me as I am a sister to him,” she added with a playful shake of her head.

My Lady… I don’t think I like being called that.

Relief washed over me, leaving me puzzled at the unexpected weight of concern I had felt regarding Eryn’s feelings for Zayn. Why had it mattered to me? I found myself wrestling with the question even as Eryn urged, “Now, get settled and dressed. The prince will be here any minute.”