Page 92 of Dance of the Phoenix

The Phoenix didn’t speak for a while. It seemed my request took it by surprise, which made sense; I doubted anyone before wanted to voluntarily release the Phoenix for their own use. The Morrow Gods had been afraid of the Phoenix, even though they went back on their promise. So were other creatures whom the Phoenix had struck deals with throughout the stories in the Tefat.

I, too, was afraid of the Phoenix. But I’d also read the Tefat and knew exactly what the Phoenix was capable of. Rather than hoping the Phoenix would never appear, like those before me, I wanted to have the chance to perhaps use it.

And it would satisfy both the Phoenix and me.

It seemed the Phoenix came to the same conclusion, because I could swear its fiery beak stretched into a flame-filled smile. “I accept your request. And so the deal is made.”

Before I could say, or rather think, anything else, the fire consumed both the Phoenix and me, and my vision turned pitch black.

Chapter 50

Aileen

I opened my eyes, short of breath, sweat covering my skin.

For a few long moments, I was disoriented, memories pushing their way back into my head. I remembered my name. Remembered who and what I was. Remembered the last few days. Remembered Logan, Zoey, Cassidy, and CJ. Remembered Jada.

That’s when my disorientation turned into absolute horror. But the memories did not stop.

Because I also remembered the Phoenix and the promise I’d made.

But the latter didn’t matter. I couldn’t dwell on it even if I wanted to, because I remembered Ragnor.

I remembered Atalon carving his heart out.

Ragnor’s heart.

Ragnor was dead.

Agony made me suck in a breath and put my hands over my chest, where the pain was most unbearable. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even cry. I was in a state of shock, panic, and utter pain.

It felt as if a vital part of me was missing. As if my heart was cut in half.

I’d thought my soul was crushed before. It felt that way when I watched him getting killed right before my eyes.

And yet now, my soul was somehow still here, barely intact, holding on by a thin last thread, but here.

I almost wished it wasn’t. I wished I could be like Jada. That once the pain became too hard to bear, I would simply become ... nothing.

But I was still here.

My soul, however flimsy, was still here.

And the agony refused to stop.

Because Ragnor was dead.

He was dead.

“Good morning, Aileen.”

The voice was familiar, and it made my despair come to a screeching halt. Because that voice ... it belonged to a very specific individual. And how could it behere?

That’s when I realized that I was no longer in the arena. I was lying in a queen-size bed, still wearing the jeans and tee I last wore. There was natural light in the room, though, coming from a nearby window. I was no longer underground, meaning I was no longer in the proximity of the arena.

Slowly, I turned my head to the side and saw a familiar man sitting in the chair near the bed. He had tousled black hair, pale gray eyes, and a handsome face that was sadly attached to a tall, lean body. He wore black clothes, along with an affectionate smile that made me want to hurl.

Wode’s smile widened when he saw my eyes widen in shock. “Missed me?” he asked, cocking his head as his smile turned almost boyish. “I know I did.”