Page 51 of Heir of Broken Souls (HOBF #3)

Chapter 51

Delilah

T he heartache and guilt cease to exist at Elysia’s words. Knox ushers her in as I stare, wide-eyed.

“What did you see?” Knox asks cautiously. He doesn’t take a seat, as if the threat of Hazel is in this very room with us and he wants to be ready.

Gods, I failed them all.

There are no two ways about it, and I don’t know how to cope with it.

It’s consuming, crushing, and debilitating.

Clearing my thoughts away, I focus on Elysia as she says, “I should say, it wasn’t a vision, just another piece that was translated. Although I don’t understand it in the slightest.”

Elysia’s voice takes on a graceful lilt as she repeats with a faraway look,

“ Search for that which repeats all you do, its silence a message for you.

Keep a tether for you will drift, from this land to the next.

Walk inside and come alive, but don’t be frightened of what you’ll find.

For all was planned you must persist. ”

Elysia sucks in a gasp, coming back to herself.

My lips thin. “Seems it’s another riddle.”

Elysia pinches the bridge of her nose. “Gods, why can’t it just be simple?”

“It never is,” I say solemnly.

“We need to wait for everyone to recover and recoup before we tread farther,” Knox says, peering at us both. “Let’s take the time to review all the prophecy we have so far. Perhaps we’ll pick up on a clue we have missed previously.”

“Something tells me none of it is going to make sense until it’s staring us smack in the face,” Elysia mutters.

Knox and I look at each other, both of us knowing that she’s right.

* * *

Two days later, sitting around Harlow’s bed—that she’s adamant she can now leave—we tell everyone the new cryptic words of the prophecy.

Every set of eyes in the room lies on me. The blame isn’t being said but it can be felt. Everyone knows the colossal mistake I made, the one that will have a grave impact on all of us. It’s already taking its toll on Axel.

Everyone can smell the liquor on him.

Harlow deadpans, “You’re telling me that bitch has another secret up her sleeve?”

Elysia snorts derisively. “It sounds as if she’s always had secrets.”

“Way to point out the obvious,” Harlow grumbles but Elysia just shrugs it off.

Knox grimaces. “It’s more complicated than that. We believe there’s something she wants and doesn’t want us to have.” He slides his hand along my back for support as he goes on. “We need to be on high alert as we continue forward. She might be following us.”

“No thanks to Delilah,” Axel slurs under his breath.

Knox sends him a warning glare that has Axel straightening, his muscles coiling. They don’t loosen until Lenox steps between the pair, diffusing the growing tension—although not by much.

Ignoring Axel’s outburst is hard when Harlow slides that cunning gaze to him and sneers, “Who the fuck gave him liquor again?”

Silence descends, until Axel burps, pulling a groan from all of us.

“We have more pressing matters right now,” I argue.

“Like how a psychotic woman is waiting to kill us all.”

Knox’s face is a mask of calm that counteracts the emotions swirling along our bond. “What we truly need to know is what she wants.”

Harlow’s brow quirks. “What do you mean?”

“The king is ordering his demons to kill us, trying to stop us from reaching the supposed sunken island, but all the while?—”

“—Hazel didn’t even attempt to kill any of us,” Knox finishes for me.

“Because she has demons doing her dirty work,” Lenox grunts out.

Knox cocks his head. “Perhaps, but Delilah was alone on the ship when she was impersonating you. She had ample opportunity to not only kill her but kidnap her and take her to Peter.”

My heart is numb to everything happening around me. All that remains is the knowledge of what I have to get through and the reminder that I can’t let Hazel slip by me twice.

“There is no end to this where she is suddenly acting in our best interest,” Knox answers.

Deep down, we know it to be true. We just wished for a happier outcome.

“Hazel wants something on that island,” I say, resolute. “We need to make sure we find it before she does.”

Axel groans, flopping down onto Harlow’s bed. He yelps a second later, practically jumping out of his skin as he whirls on Harlow, smoke trailing from his behind.

“She burned me!”

Harlow lifts her chin. “You sat your intoxicated germs on my duvet.”

Axel scoffs. “Fucking little?—”

“ Enough .” Knox’s voice blasts through the room, garnering no room for argument. “Delilah and I believe we should continue following the orders of the prophecy. The largest enemy we need to defeat is Peter, which, might I remind you all, has been trying to stop us from reaching this supposed sunken island.”

Axel’s lip lifts, curling in disgust. “They’re both horrible.”

“Yes, they are,” I softly agree with him.

Elysia sits gently beside Harlow, not burnt to a crisp like her mate. “I can’t explain why but I can feel how desperate she is to get to the sunken island. When I tap into her, it’s all I feel—desperation.”

Defeat is written stark across Knox’s face as he gutturally admits, “I don’t know how we prepare for this.”

“We can’t,” I answer honestly. “We just have to expect the unexpected.”

His solemn dip tells me that didn’t help in the slightest, but it’s the truth.

We just need to prepare to fight no matter what.

* * *

It isn’t until everyone has left Harlow’s room, leaving us alone, do I turn to her, sitting on the bed as I take in her exhausted form. Even though I didn’t lose nearly my entire bodyweight in blood, I fear I don’t look much better than her.

“Come to braid my hair, have we?”

I can’t help but snort. “You wish.”

She grimaces slightly. “Considering the red streaks are now actually just blood, I wouldn’t turn it down.”

Before Harlow can protest, I walk to her ensuite, gathering a bowl along with shampoo and a towel. She doesn’t say anything as I return. Nor does she let out a peep as I instruct her to lean forward.

With a simple click of my fingers, the bowl fills with hot steaming water that I dip a cloth into and begin to wet Harlow’s hair.

I know I could also snap my fingers and make it go away. Harlow knows it too but something passes between us, a keen understanding, and I just know she wants nothing more than for this blood to be scrubbed from her.

Cleaning with magic still allows the lingering dirt to fester, and I don’t think Harlow wants a single reminder of the moment she almost died.

It’s quiet for a long time, with just the sounds of the water and the brush I run through her hair. Her body has grown languid with every stroke, with every gentle caress. I’ve never seen her so relaxed and unguarded before.

That is until I clear my throat and ask, “What happened between you and Lenox?”

Her body stiffens, her shoulders hiking up to her ears as her fists clench at her sides before she visibly forces her body to relax. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy. You almost died the other day, Harlow, and whatever has been festering between the two of you needs to put it to rest in case?—”

“In case one of us dies?” she says for me.

I pause for a moment, not realizing that was about to come out of my mouth.

Sighing loudly, I slump back, pausing the movements of the brush. “What was so bad that has you both hating each other?”

She spins to face me so suddenly I straighten. “We don’t hate each other,” she sneers.

“You might not.”

It was callous and cold and as her eyes widen, I regret the words immediately. But exhaustion does this to people. It loosens lips. Yet she doesn’t scream or rage at me. In fact, if anything, sadness blooms in her eyes.

I’m about to apologize and beg for her forgiveness but Harlow whispers so softly, I almost don’t hear it. “I did something that he can’t forgive me for.”

It takes me a moment to respond, to get past my shock. “What do you mean? What did you do?”

She swallows thickly. “The night Ace died…”

Something within me hardens, preparing myself for the worst case possible.

“Lenox had a feeling something was wrong. When we went off to search for him by ourselves, he was adamant and wouldn’t shut up about it. He kept yammering on and on about how we were going in the wrong direction.” She shrugs, but I know she’s not as aloof as the movement suggests. “I thought he was being preposterous. There was no way he could’ve known where to go, and I didn’t want all of us searching in the one spot.”

“I don’t think that’s bad, Harlow. That’s part of your training, to cover all ground.”

“But he was right , Delilah,” she whispers. “Something was wrong. We were going the wrong direction the whole time, and I was teasing and poking him to lighten the mood…”

“Harlow, you couldn’t have known.” I choke on my words, realizing Knox said the same thing to me just a couple days ago when I was drowning in my own guilt.

“But Lenox did ,” she emphasizes. “He knew all along, and all I did was diminish his feelings. Then Ace died.” A sheen of tears covers her eyes. “He hasn’t looked at me the same since because he thinks he could have saved Ace, and he’s probably right. If we had arrived sooner, then we could have helped. We could have come down and stopped him.”

She begins to cry in earnest.

“There was time, Delilah. There was so much time and all I did was tell him to shut up and keep flying.” She hiccups around a sob and loses it completely. “We could have saved Ace. Lenox could have saved Ace, and I stopped him.” She wipes a tear away. “When he looks at me now, all he sees is the woman that stopped him from saving his friend, and nothing I have done has been able to change that.”

Harlow’s shoulders shake in earnest as the crying overtakes her.

Wrapping my arms around her shoulder, I hold her to me as Harlow does something that I don’t think she’s ever done. She lays her guilty heart in my hands and lets me watch as she falls apart.

* * *

An hour later, after Harlow cried herself to sleep in my arms, I leave her cabin. I can’t say I’m shocked by the revelation, or that she feels guilty. But I also can’t say she shouldn’t feel that way, or that Lenox has no right to be so angry with her.

Because the reality of the situation is messy.

Maybe if Lenox and Harlow had come sooner, Ace might still be alive right now. Or we could have all perished that night. No one knows besides the fates, and for some reason, that’s the way it worked out.

I’m about to step into my cabin when a crash comes from the end of the hall.

My hand flies to my knives strapped to my hip, but I relax once Axel comes into view, bearing his stumbling weight against Elysia’s shoulder, slurring nonsense. Elysia passes me with a grimace, but I choose to be utterly selfish in this moment and not offer a helping hand.

Axel isn’t the only one who wants to drown his sorrows.

The memory of Ace’s death hangs above all our hearts tonight as the pod continues to mourn and grieve the one they lost. As a sister sobs over the loss of her twin.

As we all lie in bed knowing I let our enemy slip away.

I’ve never hated myself more than this moment.