Page 41 of Heir of Broken Souls (HOBF #3)

Chapter 41

Delilah

“W hat the fuck is wrong with you?” I snap.

“You need to let out all that anger. You need to fight .” She cocks a hip. “And despite your cute training sessions, no one is giving you that.”

“I’m not fighting you, Harlow.”

“Afraid you’ll hurt me?”

“Of course I am. Have you not heard how much power I contain?”

She sputters out a laugh. “Gods, cocky much? I have heard, and unlike most Fae around you, I’m not afraid of it. If anything, it’s the most exciting thing that’s happened around here.”

“You’re not entertained by the war we’re currently fighting?” I snip.

She flaps her hand in the air, waving me off. “Not that, you fool. I’m excited because perhaps this war isn’t the end of us.”

That stumps me. Harlow has never complimented me before.

“You’re being oddly kind. What’s wrong with you? Are you feeling ill?”

“Shut up and fight me before I change my mind.”

My eyes narrow, my hesitancy showing.

But Harlow never hesitates.

Another ball of fire soars for my head.

My golden power rises to meet it, knocking it to the side like a pesky fly. Only, another comes for me again, and another, and another. It doesn’t matter how many I shoot away, Harlow wants a fight.

And so I’ll give her one.

Harlow’s eyes shine as I lift my hands encased in gold. The smirk stays firmly upon her lips as I send a volley of golden arrows for her. She moves majestically, spinning and twirling this way and that to dodge them.

She turns on the offense immediately. Shadows alight with fire rush for me, pushing me back to avoid their burn. Before I can disperse them with my own power, Harlow rushes from the shadowy depths with a sword clutched in her hand.

Unsheathing my own, I meet her strike for strike, our boots scuffling along the top of the deck. A dark delightful chuckle tumbles from Harlow’s lips as we dance circles around each other, until I make a move she doesn’t see coming.

I lunge to strike her right, but pivot at the last second and aim for her left. Harlow stumbles, exposed and open, having fallen for the fake.

Cackling with my own laughter, I conjure a golden ball of power and throw it straight at her face. It turns to slime when it hits.

She flicks it away with the back of her hand and charges again. “Oh, you are so paying for that!”

A scream of laughter escapes me as I move to flee.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Knox snaps as he strides across the deck.

His rough voice doesn’t stop me, though. Harlow raises her hand, dodging my golden dagger at the same time.

“Save it, pretty boy, I’ve got this.”

I can see in my periphery that Knox’s jaw drops open, but then a fireball rushes for my chest and I twirl away from the sight of him and Harlow’s magic. A moment later, he mutters a curse under his breath but strides away. The bond between us sizzles with confusion, but I can’t concentrate on that now, not as the pain in my chest finally for the first time in months lessens.

I’m not sure how much time has passed but when Harlow raises her hands with a quirked brow, I’m drenched in sweat. We head for a box of our supplies stationed on the top deck and pull out our waterskins. I guzzle it down while she does the same.

She turns to me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, that quizzical look once again on her face. “Did it help?”

“Pretending your face is his and beating the crap out of you?” I smile. “Yes.”

She snorts out a laugh. “Glad my body could be of service.”

I pause my laughter and say sincerely, “Thank you.”

My body already feels immensely lighter. I haven’t gotten rid of the all-consuming buzzing of nerves for what is on the horizon tomorrow but the rage has surprisingly waned. It’s still there, ready for me to access it tomorrow, but at least I’ll be able to sleep tonight.

“Don’t sweat it. Knox did the same for me.”

My head cocks to the side. “He did?”

She dips her chin, taking a seat on the floor. “After he moved me into his family home. No matter how nice my life had become I couldn’t…let go of my anger.”

I hold my breath, stunned that Harlow is opening up. A faraway look enters her eyes, one that I recognize from looking in the mirror.

“It never mattered how much I tried to move on. It haunted me in ways I can’t describe, but I don’t think I have to explain the feeling to you.” She sighs deeply, as if talking about this is releasing something she’s held on to for years. “No matter how many times I would shake my head to clear the memories, they’d always return. No matter how busy I kept myself, they would creep into my mind without notice. It was horrible, and the worst of it was the anger, the injustice of it all. I couldn’t do anything about it. I had no one to take it out on, and therefore, it had nowhere to go.”

My throat tightens as the words resonate deeply within me.

“I’m sure Knox never told you of how I came to be in his court.” I shake my head, and surprisingly, she rolls her eyes. “Such a gentlemen.”

I snort. “You sound disappointed.”

She shrugs. “It would save me from having to say it out loud.”

“You don’t have to?—”

“Yes, I do, because although everyone here has suffered pain, no one besides you and me knows what it’s like to have been ripped away from your parents. Axel and Ace had a terrible childhood, don’t get me wrong, and I know you can relate to them—Axel.” She clears her throat at her misstep. “But we are unfortunate enough to know we could have had an entirely different life if it weren’t for someone and their awful choices.” She turns to me. “How much do you know about the witches?”

“Just the hate they have for the Fae race.”

She clicks her tongue. “Hate is too kind a word. Despise, loath, disgust—those are more accurate.” She sighs deeply. “My mother was not like most witches. Yes, she possessed the same cunning mind of the coven, the same features, and the same desire for magic, but her heart was different. It wasn’t as cold or malicious. If anything, it was…warm.” Harlow’s eyes remain on the darkness surrounding the ship as she says, “All my mother was guilty of was falling in love with a Fae.”

My heart plummets.

“They were smart about it, hiding it from each other’s kind for years…until they were not.”

“She fell pregnant,” I presume.

She dips her chin with a melancholy smile.

“It didn’t take long for the witches in her coven to smell it on her. The nose of a witch isn’t as powerful as a Fae’s, but we can smell the difference in blood. The moment my heart began to pump they knew.” Her body tenses. “It wasn’t until I was born that rumors of my half-breed blood spread, but by then we were long gone. We were on the run until I was six. And sometimes,” she admits quietly, “I wish they had killed her sooner.”

I suck in a sharp breath before I can stop myself.

“I know I sound cruel but if they killed her the day I was born, they would have just thrown me into a fire. I wouldn’t have had to bear witness to the leader of the coven swinging that axe down upon her neck. I would have never seen her head roll, and I would have never been tortured.” She picks at imaginary lint on her pants, then gives me a tight, sad smile.

“So yes, I may sound cruel, but I also think it was cruel for them to make her daughter watch her death, not because of my feelings but hers. I was her entire world, me and her lover. They butchered him first only to push me in her line of sight afterwards. She knew her end was coming, but to this day, I believe the fear in her eyes was because of what they would do to me, not her.”

“Oh, Harlow.”

No words come forth, because there are none to say in this moment as silence descends.

After a short while, of me debating on whether to give her a hug or not—which I decided against to keep my body intact—Harlow finally speaks, a waver in her voice.

“I understand your pain, Delilah. My mother and father were ripped from my hands—literally—and killed before my very eyes. My life, my future—it was taken without my consent so brutally it changed the essence of my soul. I was soft before. I had my father’s kind heart after all, but when that axe swung through his neck and then my mother’s, my heart became as cold as a full-blooded witch’s. As callous, cunning, and detached as the coven.” She clears her throat. “What they did to me after, that’s where the hatred truly lies, but I won’t bore you with the details. I don’t wish to see the contents of your stomach.”

It’s the first time she’s called him her father. All the other times he was just her mother’s lover in the story. Something tells me not to question her on it, though. Her truth that she’s laying bare is enough pain.

“I’m so sorry,” I say genuinely.

She flaps away my words. “I didn’t tell you for pity, I told you so you know you aren’t alone. I know you have Knox, and bless him he is a sweetheart, but the anger that builds after what we’ve gone through is more than hideous.” She finally turns to me and for the first time tonight, I realize tears are snaking down her cheeks. “I just want you to know that the anger does not make you a bad person, and that you are not alone in this.”

Rising to her feet, she gazes down at me. “The hatred is power, Delilah. Use it.”

Without another word, as if sensing I was about to comfort her, Harlow turns, her hips swaying as she descends below deck.

As much as hearing Harlow’s story brings immense pain to my heart for all she has suffered, she’s right. Knowing that someone else has the same ugly hatred burning in their veins as I do brings a lightness to my chest that I haven’t felt since the moment everything was revealed.

It also makes me look at Harlow differently.

And brings immense guilt, that she poured her heart out to someone hiding a secret from her.

* * *

Peering over my shoulder to check the door is shut behind me, I quickly turn and push open the window, not at all surprised to find Naia waiting for me.

What does surprise me, though, is that she’s alone.

“The others don’t know,” I realize.

She shakes her head, her walls cracking a fraction.

I swallow thickly at the reminder of why I’m here. “Surely there’s a way to stop it.”

“You cannot move the stars,” she says. “What is in motion tomorrow must happen. You saw what would occur if it did not.”

“No, I only saw what would happen if we told anyone, not if we tried to stop it.”

“It’s okay, child. I have accepted it.”

“How can you?” I ask, my voice cracking.

“Because the forgotten gods have a plan, and they have never failed me before.” She gives me a small tentative smile. “I also trust in my visions. Everything happens for a reason. I don’t always know the reasons, but in time they will make sense.”

Her words ring true in my heart, but the pain of what we will have to endure tomorrow makes tears sting the back of my eyes.

“For the record, I hate this.”

A small chuckle tumbles from her lips. “I’ll make note of that.”

I lower my voice. “Are they ready for this?”

“Do not underestimate the power of a mermaid,” she says firmly.

“I don’t, but I’m also not underestimating what is heading our way.”

She dips her head. “That’s wise of you.”

Taking in every detail of her peaceful expression, I ask, “Why are you so calm?”

“Because it’s what the stars have planned for us.”

I hold in the scoff that tries to escape. Fuck the stars and their sordid, torturous plans. They have never once looked out for me. My fate has never been my own to weave and I despise it.

“Is there anything left to do?”

“Just keep your lips sealed and all should be well. As well as it can be,” she corrects.

Swimming forward, the wall around her heart lowers further, allowing me to see the vulnerability shine in those radiant red eyes.

“It has been a blessing and a pleasure knowing you, Delilah.”

I do nothing to stop the tears from springing into my eyes this time.

Her words, so earnest and forthright, make the burning anger and misplaced guilt I’ve been clinging to shift. It gives way to the mermaid who has been here since the beginning of it all.

“I’m so sorry,” I blurt, a sob ringing out between us. “I’m so sorry for placing blame on you.”

“It is all right, child. There is nothing to forgive?—”

“I was horrible .”

“You were grieving.”

My lower lip wobbles. “Let me do something. There has to be something .”

She reaches out, her webbed hand gently brushing away a tear on my cheek. “It is all right, child.”

“It’s not and you know it.” My throat is tight, burning with all the words I want to say and yet can’t.

“Just make him suffer, Delilah,” she says softly. “When the day comes, unleash yourself.”

“I won’t rest until I stop him.”

Tears well in her red eyes. “I know. It’s why you were chosen.”