Page 295 of Cursed Evermore

Me.

Idid that.

In the space of a minute, I had reduced them all to nothing but dust and memory.

The Fae lived so long they were practically immortal. I couldn’t imagine how many years had passed by for them in that short space of time.

The beast Wolfe was fighting groaned, drawing my attention back to them. I could tell it was affected by the spell, too, but itwas still aging. I took that to mean it had a longer lifespan than the Fae.

There was still some power in its body, but the rapid decline of its lifespan weakened it substantially. Wolfe delivered a fatal blow with his sword, severing its head.

The beast went down, shaking the earth. Wolfe rolled off the body, floating to the ground. There, he watched the beast’s mouth take one final breath. Then he looked around him.

I was far away, but I could see the shock on his face as he took in the dust blowing in the wind mixed in with the bodies of the dead rebels he’d killed.

He looked straight at me. And at my hands. I gazed at them, too, watching with wide eyes as the white energy simmered to a low flame.

Wolfe flew over to me and took my hands into his. The white flame burned brightly, but not with the wild energy to attack. It was like my powers recognized his.

His shadows curled with my flame, and the two burned black and white. Like night and day.

“You… did that?” he asked, his voice careful, his eyes soft and searching.

“I…had to do something.”

“And you did, Ziyka.”

I smiled back at him, and he smiled at me, too, full of pride. I couldn’t remember anyone looking as proud as he was of me. But as soon as I thought of Zyrra, my chest tightened, and my flame extinguished.

“Wolfe, this was my fault.” My shoulders slumped.

He shook his head. “No, of course not.”

“Yes, it was. Back on the ship, you warned me to be careful who I spoke to, but I didn’t listen.”

“Elariya. This is not your fault. There’s a bigger threat at work here.”

“I know. And your sister is part of it.”

The color drained from his face and was replaced by a sickly paleness. “My… sister?Zyrra?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. I met her weeks ago when I first arrived. She seemed so genuine. Shelookedso genuine. She told me you guys fell out and asked me not to say anything to you about being at the house. I didn’t know she wasn’t allowed in. She said she came to tend to the garden.”

Wolfe looked worse, but I had to keep going. I had to tell him everything. “Yesterday I saw her at the library. She told me about your mother.” My throat closed around the words. “I felt so sorry for her, Wolfe, I gave her one of Sirril’s muffins. And invited her to dinner.” My chest caved as I forced the rest out. “That’s how she got in the house. And she brought the rebels in. Because of me. Because of …us. She wanted to take me. She knows about the ring. She knows I can find the ring, and she wants it for herself.”

The moon-white color of his face looked like the life had been drained out of him. His hands trembled against mine, shadows flickering at the edges of his skin.

“Wolfe… I am sorry.” I couldn’t tell if he was shocked, furious, or shattered by the news of Zyrra. Or byme. Maybe all of it. “Wolfe.”

“Elariya,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “It can’t be.”

“It is. She?—”

“My sister is dead.”

The words gutted me, stealing my breath, stealing my strength, stealing my senses.

“What?” My voice rasped out.