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Twenty-Seven Rorik

Edira was utterly still beneath the woven blanket. Her head was propped on a pillow, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted.

It was a sight I couldn’t bear to look at, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Not when I was the one responsible for

everything.

Once Edira had passed out on the lawns, Vora sprang into action. She tore through the debris of the manor, and when my family

simply gaped at her, she screamed at them to help. I’d never seen Lydia move so fast in all my life. Together with Clesian

and her daughters, they built a ramshackle shelter for Edira. Their earthly magic, shockingly calm and gentle in the wake

of what we’d just witnessed, birthed a tree that hollowed and surrounded Edira’s still form. Moss crept over the rich bark

and softened the ground beneath her body, and I watched in muted shock as Amalyss and Tasia flicked their wrists and urged

pebble-sized white flowers to bloom by her side.

It’d taken me several painful minutes to move. The wound Orin had left in my abdomen was weeping blood, and I’d peeled off my shirt to tightly bandage it around my stomach. Later, I’d properly dress and care for it, but all I wanted in that moment was to get to Edira. Adrenaline did the rest of the work, numbing the pain to a dull throb, and I rushed to Vora’s side to help her secure one of Edira’s apothecary cases that’d been pinned beneath a beam. A breath later, Vora was kneeling beside Edira, and her fingers maneuvered deftly between vials as she secured tinctures and muttered ingredients aloud. Seville unloaded a blanket and pillow from her arms before returning to help Lydia sort through the mess of Fernglove.

Days passed and Edira still hadn’t moved. Neither had I. I stayed in the small, hollowed-out tree and watched through the

open archway as my family summoned magics to slowly clear away the debris. The manor was destroyed beyond recognition, and

while many of the surrounding buildings also suffered massive damage, they were at least still standing. Lydia and Clesian

were quick to dole out orders, and I was surprised to see Seville take them without argument. But her gaze was distant, always

snagging on the horizon even long after the sun had set.

After a week of working with Lydia and Clesian, Seville finally approached Edira’s shelter. Her throat bobbed as she stepped

inside, and I wondered if she’d stayed away for the same reason I refused to leave: guilt.

“How is she?” she asked.

“No change.” I glanced at Edira’s still form.

Seville studied me for a long moment. “At least she looks better.”

She did, thank the gods for that. At first, her body had been withered, her skin peeled off in layers, and her breath was hitched and shallow. But each day, her body recuperated. Muscle definition and color slowly returned to her sleeping form. I was far from patient, and every hour, every minute, felt like an agonizing eternity.

“Why?” Seville asked, and I rounded my gaze on her.

“Why what?”

“Why do you care?”

It was the very question I’d been asking myself since Orin first commanded me to spy on her. Maybe it was because of how deeply

she cared for her brothers—something I’d never experienced and could hardly fathom. Maybe it was because of the way she’d

looked at me the day I brought her to Fernglove. Like I fucking mattered, like I was someone—something—to be marveled at.

Or maybe it was her cunning mind and the way she analyzed absolutely everything at the dinner table that evening. Or maybe

it was when she’d told me skirts wouldn’t stop her from stabbing me. Or the day she tried to strike me. I’d never met anyone

quite like her, and I’d spent lifetimes encountering all sorts of people. She’d intrigued me from the start.

But I didn’t care to share any of that with Seville, so I settled on something tamer. “I was tired of the suffering.”

“Right.” Seville stared right through me with the same sense of knowing as our mother. I hated it. “Well, if she doesn’t eat

you alive upon waking, tell her I said thanks.”

My gaze shifted back to Edira. “You won’t be here when she does?”

“Should I be? I don’t think so. One Ever lording over her while she tries to recover is plenty.” She snorted to herself before

shaking her head. “After all, I doubt Edira will want much to do with us given what she just went through.”

“I wouldn’t, either,” I said as I folded my arms across my chest. “Though I’m surprised you didn’t try to save him.”

It’d always been them against me for as long as I could remember. The true heirs versus the mistake. I was the reason for our mother’s death. Even now, Seville glowered, but she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Calculating. Her thin brows pulled together as she gathered her thoughts, and then she finally relented with a sigh.

“Lorelai was...” She pressed her lips together and shook her head, as if convincing herself it was safe to continue. “I

wanted to be her heartbond. I cared for Rowena, too.”

Lorelai Starglen, one of Orin’s many former heartbonds. A hazy memory began to unfold before my eyes: Seville, all those years

ago, stiff with rage and lips so thin they’d nearly disappeared, standing silent at Lorelai and Orin’s heartbond ceremony.

And then the single, heart-wrenching cry I’d heard through the halls the night of Lorelai’s death. It’d been the only time

in my life I’d considered knocking on Seville’s door. I’d kept walking.

And Rowena. My shoulders slackened. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want anyone to know. It was safer that way. Orin still found out, though. He always did.” Ire filled her ice-green

stare, and I wondered if the anger she always wielded had nothing to do with me, or our history, at all. She shuddered, hiding

away whatever emotion she was too cautious to show, and allowed a smirk to claim her lips. “Though it looks like you’re the

one collecting heartbonds now.”

“A means to an end.” The words burned like ash against my tongue, but they were true. I hardly knew Edira. We’d never had

the chance to speak freely with each other, and now she’d never want to. Not after what I did to her brothers. I glanced past

Seville to find Noam and Nohr helping Vora forage for herbs. With the collapse of the estate, the majority of her wares were

destroyed, and Edira needed a constant supply to help keep her body from failing. We’d been filling them in about Edira’s

work here and there, answering their questions without reservations. We owed them the truth, and we had no reason to hide

it. Not anymore.

“And her end will be sooner than most.” Seville’s words were harsh, but her tone was not. The gentleness of her voice gave me pause, and I shifted my attention back to her. She watched Edira with a subtle warmth, almost as if they were friends.

When I didn’t say anything, she leveled me with a weighted look. “What are you going to do?”

“About Edira?” I asked.

“Edira, the estate, the mines.” Seville glanced at the grounds where Lydia was marking the land as if determining the layout

of some new structure. Somewhere, Clesian and his daughters were helping track down the stags that had bolted in fear into

the woods. They’d fallen into a routine without missing a beat when they simply could’ve left. But still, they remained.

“Fuck the mines.” I scowled at nothing as I pictured the blight-ridden earth surrounding the cavernous maws filled with tantalizing

gems. “We have enough everjewels for the family and we no longer have blight. Plus, we have more money than we know what to

do with. If the townsfolk want to mine them at their own risk for their own profit, then that’s on them.”

“I suppose that’s a call you could make as head of the estate,” Seville hedged.

“Not for me.” I bristled at the title. “I think Lydia and Clesian would be happy to run the place.”

“Maybe in your stead, but not permanently,” Seville said as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Shocking, I know.”

“ My stead?” It was impossible not to balk. “I don’t want this place. If not them, then certainly you.”

“I think it’s pretty clear who Mother would’ve wanted to be in charge. Lydia has already mentioned honoring her wishes.” There wasn’t an ounce of disdain in Seville’s words. If anything, there was a sliver of remorse that made her tone waver. “That aside, what do you think will happen when more Evers learn of Edira’s ability to cure blight? Our attendants fled the moment the glamour fell. A few have started to return, but not all of them. Her talents are bound to get out.”

An involuntary snarl ripped from somewhere deep in my chest, and my canines sharpened to snag on the soft flesh of my lips.

“I won’t let them touch her. She’s done enough.”

“I know, but the fact remains. They will come for her.” She loosed a heavy breath, as if she didn’t want to keep going. But

she did anyway. “Especially the Embergraves.”

My pulse climbed higher, and I formed fists by my sides. Anger brewed in my gut as my lips curled. Zeverin. All these years,

we’d never been able to talk about him or even whisper his name. I knew little about my real father. But all Evers knew just

how bloodthirsty and horrendous the Embergraves were. They were dangerous and had sway over a multitude of smaller Ever families

throughout Glaes. No one stood up against them, but I would. For Edira, I would burn their estate to the ground.

I let my glamour fall away in a ripple. Magic crackled in the space between us. “I don’t care what kind of power they possess.

I don’t care about their family or how many they have under their control. I will kill them all. No one touches her.”

Before Seville could respond, a flicker of awareness sparked in my chest, and my world froze. It was small, like the first

star winking to life in the presence of dusk, but brilliant just the same. And with it came a soothing warmth that beat through

my limbs in time with my heart. My breath caught in my lungs. Slowly, I turned my gaze to Edira. And then she moaned. I’d

felt her awaken through our shared bond before the soft sound filled the air. My power left in a rush, and my glamour slipped

back into place as Seville straightened. She glanced around me to look at Edira, and the fear that had crested in her eyes

dissipated.

“Okay, Rorik. Together, then.” She placed a soft hand on my shoulder, completely upending everything I knew about our sibling relationship, and then waved goodbye. I didn’t have time to process her words, and I didn’t care to. Because in that moment, my entire fucking world winnowed to Edira and her now parted eyes.

She blinked several times over, working her mouth for a few moments. Finally, she spoke. “Water.”

I was on my knees in seconds, gingerly placing a calfskin canteen to her mouth. Water spilled over Edira’s lips, and she drank

deeply until she turned her chin. I capped the canteen and set it beside her.

“How are you feeling?”

She stared at me for a harrowing minute, and I swore I saw the moment all the memories came flooding back to her mind. The

cloudiness in her eyes evaporated in a breath, and she scowled at me with a cold, distant fury that chilled me to the bone.

“I’ll be fine. Where are my brothers?”

“Helping Vora gather herbs for your medicine. They’ll be back shortly, I promise.”

“Promise? I’m tired of Ever promises.” A brittle laugh scraped from the back of her throat, and she pressed her head into

the pillow to stare up at the ceiling. She frowned at the sprawling, interconnected tree limbs and ivy strands. “Where am

I?”

“Vora refused to move you. You’re outside Fernglove in a makeshift shelter. Now that you’re awake, though, we can get you

out of here.”

“Good. I never want to see this place again.”

While I could understand why, her words burned unexpectedly. If she detested the idea of remaining at Fernglove this much,

then she undoubtedly felt the same way about me. An unfamiliar twinge of despair twisted through me, stemming directly from

my heart.

Heartbond.

Her eyes widened, too, and suddenly she was glaring at me. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to feel you.”

“You won’t know I’m there unless you come looking. I swear it.” I would shield every emotion from her, distance myself both

in mind and body, to keep her from dealing with the aftermath of me.

“More promises.” She looked away, but the absence of her ire-filled stare did nothing to assuage the guilt ravaging my throat.

“Edira, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t meet my gaze.

“I know that those words will never be enough. And that no explanation, no matter how true, will ever make up for what I did.”

I wanted to beg for her forgiveness. I’d never felt more alive than when she targeted me with her dove-gray eyes. They tore

right through me each and every time, and I didn’t care one bit if they left me bare and wanting.

A glassy sheen covered her irises, and the air in my lungs came to a screeching halt. She barely had the strength to move,

and I didn’t dare touch her, so all I could do was watch as a single tear slipped free and slowly descended her cheek. It

broke me entirely.

When she finally spoke, her words were barely a whisper. “Thank you, Rorik. For helping me save my brothers.”

That damn tear moved so fucking slow. My fingers burned to wipe it away. “You’re welcome.”

“But that doesn’t change what happened.” Slowly, she turned to look at me once more. “I’ll never be able to forgive you for

what you did. You’re the reason they were sick to begin with.”

My heart thundered in my throat. She’d saved me from my brother’s wrath, and, heartbond aside, I would do anything to grant

her peace throughout her final days. Even if it meant staying away. Especially if it meant staying away.

“I’ll get Vora and your brothers.” I turned to go, pausing only for a moment at the threshold of her shelter. I gave her one last chance to say anything she wanted. One last opportunity for there to be something besides anger and remorse traveling down this heartbond of ours.

She said nothing.

I left without looking back.