Page 38 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

“Your sister, I know. It’s not about what happened to her. I just want one question. The rest are all yours. Ask away.”

With a roll of her neck, she threw a rock with unnecessary force and the water scattering angrily.

“Fine, yes,” she muttered and selected another from the ground, wishing her soul’s edges weren’t jagged and torn but smooth as this stone.

She cleared her throat and asked, “What happened to your parents? You said your father died, but ... you didn’t mention your mother. And she wasn’t in that portrait.”

Hesitance bracketed his shoulders, a tremble to his voice as he replied, “My father’s death was sudden.

One night his heart stopped, and he never woke up.

We had his body examined and they found no trauma or poison but—I think it was planned.

” A heavy breath inflated his chest. “My mother died in childbirth. Izzy came first and when I followed ... They couldn’t stop the bleeding.

” He exhaled, long and slow, his eyes falling shut.

“I tell myself it’s easier because I never knew her but sometimes, I’m not sure.

” He lobbed a rock into the water with no intention of skipping, maybe relieving some weight off his shoulders.

“I was stillborn. It was like I was never meant to live. But I took my first breath when she took her last. I swear she gave her life for me, and I never got to thank her.” He huffed a sad laugh. “It sounds ridiculous.”

“It’s not ... And I’m sorry for your losses.” She had been sorry a lot lately and it didn’t seem to be doing anyone any good. “But you were meant to live, Vesper. If not for reasons you believe, then for me. If it hadn’t been for you ... I wouldn't be here. Or even alive.”

It was the first time she had acknowledged what he’d done for her. Pactum aside.

“You give me too much credit.” He cleared his throat, thick with emotion as he continued, “We don’t even have a portrait of her.

I don’t know what she looked like.” He snatched a rock off the ground and turned it over in his hands.

“I wish I’d met her. My father didn’t talk about her much.

I think his heart broke and never mended after her death.

He never remarried either. But he said I’m a lot like her.

A little hot headed but quick to laugh.”

“Those are the best people,” Emmery agreed, thinking of Maela and her heartfelt laugh, dramatics, and quick anger.

“Not many people genuinely care. Those with the biggest hearts suffer the most.” She stared at her hands though his gaze bore into her.

“How many more questions do I get before you ask yours?”

“As many as you like. I’m an open book.”

“My favourite kind,” Emmery teased, tossing another rock as the lake sounds blanketed them—water gaining on the shore, birds flitting through the trees, and hidden crickets.

She inhaled deeply, the fresh air and moist earth invigorating her lungs.

For a moment she almost sank into its peace.

She wished Maela were here. “Tell me more about Iz. What was she like?”

Vesper smiled like this was his favourite subject.

“She’s opposite me in every way. You’ll like her.

” They stared out at the horizon. “She’s fierce and unapologetic but level-headed.

Always fighting my battles for me. But she’s the kind of sister who never tolerated anyone being rude to me. Except her, of course.”

A breathless laugh slipped free. It was the same with her and Mae.

Vesper paused, his mouth twisting to the side. “She threw her magic around a lot. The burden of mind especially. I know she used it to ... manipulate people. Honestly, if I had her power, I probably would have too. Father would constantly scold her for it.”

Peering up at him, Emmery asked, “Did she ever use it on you?”

Vesper’s expression hardened. “She never had to.”

Or at least that he knew. Eager to lighten the tone, she said, “I can’t wait to meet her.” Emmery toyed with her braid as guilt twisted her gut because if things went to plan, she never would.

Vesper nodded mechanically. Fidgeting with those gloves he always wore, he disappeared into his own head. He was the image of royalty in his suede navy jacket though he shrugged out of it moments later and tossed it onto the damp sand like he couldn’t bear it a moment longer.

“What was it like growing up as a prince?” She couldn’t fathom the wealth and opportunities. Her own life had been impossibly different, between not knowing when their next meal would be and all the things she did for money. All the sacrifices to merely survive.

Vesper fiddled with the clasp of his glove.

“We never wanted. Every-thing we could ever wish for was at our fingertips. My father made sure of it. I know his upbringing was rough to say the least but despite being Hollow he managed to be great. Made a difference. He gave me a hard time for not wanting to carry on his legacy, but he stopped pushing long ago. Luckily, Izzy was more than willing to take up the kingdom and all the crippling power that came with it. When she died, I lost my future too.”

The words hung between them, raw and bloated with such sadness she could barely breathe through it. Emmery wanted to reach for him—comfort him somehow but instead she clasped her hands until her knuckles bleached.

He continued, “When our kingdom was destroyed, I didn’t have a clue how to fix it. And then I was forced to serve Destonne for so long, I gave up hope of coming home.”

“But you’re home now,” she said. “And you’re finally free.”

He shook his head slowly. “We’re never truly free.”

She offered him a weak smile, not sure what he meant by that. “I’m glad you made it.” She bit into her cheek, knowing this was coming and she couldn’t avoid it any longer. “What did you want to ask?”

Vesper’s eyes softened and he shifted his weight. Was he nervous? “Tell me about those letters in your pack. And the binding full of writing.”

Emmery let loose a shaky breath. “You really want to know?”

A nod. “I do.”

Bracing her face in her hands, she groaned.

“It’s really embarrassing. I hope you know that.

” Emmery studied the ground, unable to meet his eyes.

“The binding was my version of this book I once had. It was my favourite story, and it was the only copy I ever found. It was written from a man’s perspective, so I decided to write the female character’s story.

After all there’s always two sides to every story, right?

” She peeked up at Vesper, his eyes tired as he watched her.

“As for the letters, I don't know how much you read, but those were for my sister. We used to write these silly notes to each other and leave them in this hiding place. It was an easy way to share our thoughts with each other. After Maela passed, I continued to write them. I guess it ... helped me keep some pathetic connection to her.”

“It's not pathetic.” Vesper’s lips parted, and a silence spread between them, the pity in his gaze making her squirm. “I don’t know what to say.”

She shrugged it off. “There isn’t anything to say.”

They stood side by side, tossing rocks like they had done it countless times. Like being friends, even though they couldn’t be, was easy. Was real.

Vesper’s eyes slid to her. “Can I show you something?”

With a hesitant nod, she let him lead her into the woods.

Aera stayed behind, chasing a mouse in the bushes as they hiked down a trail and out of the kingdom. The castle disappeared behind them and Vesper grinned as it came into view.

It was a tree the girth and height of a clocktower with deep crimson veins threading the twisted trunk.

Countless branches housed infinite shimmering leaves mirroring the night sky like they channelled the stars down to this earth, housing their power within them.

The tree’s magic thrummed through every pore in her body like a heartbeat.

It was both beautiful and grotesque—a contradiction in itself.

“This is a Tree of Eternal Blood. It’s said that the Goddess Ellynne resides inside this trunk.” Vesper lowered to his knees and removed his glove to place his palm on the porous bark. “We speak to the gods here. Or try. I thought you may want to. Since your gods never answered.”

And apparently these new gods hadn’t either but either way, the mortal gods had forsaken her.

Emmery sank to the ground beside Vesper and laid her hand on a root.

Her eyes fell closed as the magic joined her veins, the power thundering through her, stronger than the Whispering Spring.

Emmery inhaled and exhaled pure lust—the magic like forbidden ecstasy as she shivered.

“We come here to pray and scatter the ashes of our Fallen loved ones. It’s said they’re absorbed and placed back into the spring for rebirth.” He patted the tree trunk. “We also come here every Blood Moon and make an offering to Kahlia.”

She peered up from where she kneeled. “What about those who aren’t Fallen?”

Vesper shook his head. “Deimos doesn’t require offerings. But Izzy and I did since we’re both. And of course, Cal too since he’s Fallen.” Vesper watched her with an intense stare. Did he feel the tree’s power too? The delicious wrath that made her khaos flame purr.

“What do you pray for?” he whispered, placing the question delicately. “I know you do each night. I heard you.”

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “I pray for my mother and my sister. For Pellius to care for them.” The bark scratched her palm as she ran her hand down it. “That’s about it.”

He frowned, his eyes searching her profile. “And for you?”

Emmery shook her head. “I decided my soul was damned long ago. Before my mother died. Before my sister—” Her voice broke with all the words she couldn’t say. “There was never any point.”

He shifted closer, setting his hand beside hers. “It’s okay to forgive yourself, Emmery. And it’s never too late for the gods to forgive you either.”

She released the tree to hold that familiar ache in her chest, not allowing herself to feel what he said or let it inside. Her past was unforgivable. Irredeemable. And she hadn’t changed. She couldn’t. “I’m not worth praying for,” she put simply.

“I happen to think you’re wrong,” he breathed. “And if you won’t pray for yourself, I will.”

The offer rocked her. It was so ... genuine. Such a miniscule thing for him to say and do, but somehow those few words were saturated with so much more. And she couldn’t put it into words, so she rested her hand atop his and silently thanked him for saving her in more ways than one.