Page 51 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

A muscle feathered in his jaw. “You should know I’m unflinchingly protective of Ellynne and my friends.

When it was destroyed, we were all devastated, but this place is my only home.

There’s no life for me back in Delmira.” His stare hardened to ice.

“I don’t welcome people into my life easily. My trust is earned, not given.”

She clenched her teeth, turning away from his cold gaze. “If saving your life wasn’t enough, then I doubt I’ll ever earn it.”

Callias narrowed his eyes at her tone. “Keep training. Don’t worry so much about what people think.

It shows weakness. But did you ever think I’m helping you protect yourself because I know the danger you’re in?

That I’m volunteering my time to aid you, not punish you?

” His chest rose and fell with a heavy breath, the outline of his muscular chest straining against his tunic.

“We need you to be better. For all our sake.”

Breathing through her burning lungs, Emmery rotated the sword in her grasp to glimpse her reflection.

Her flushed face looked back, and she smoothed a few hairs that had sprung free from her careful top knot.

How many times had she caught her reflection and wanted to sneer at what she saw? She hadn’t done that in a while now.

But he was right. He had taken time to train her and every day he pushed her; she got a little better. Even if it was infinitesimal.

Despite her doubt she would ever be worthy enough to relight the khaos flame, she was still trying to be. Not only for herself but for this place she dreamed would one day feel like home. Because Karynthia was theirs as much as it was hers.

“Should we get back to it then?” she asked. “I’m sure the gods are relishing in my torment and bloody calluses.”

“Are you ready to spar with a real dummy?” He selected a shiny longsword with a heavy onyx handle from the rack and expertly flipped it in his hand.

“Did you—” Emmery’s eyes widened, dumbfounded, “Did you make a joke?”

“I suppose I did.” He raised an eyebrow. “So?”

Emmery readied her sword. It wasn’t much, but it was progress.

THE SCARLET MOON ENGULFED the night sky as Vesper, Callias, and Emmery made their way through the forest. She stretched her legs. They still ached from training, but at least she could lift her arms again. Well, marginally.

Distant crashing waves and excited voices disturbed the silence as they neared the Tree of Eternal Blood. Vesper had said on the Blood Moon Fallen gathered and made a sacred offer in good faith to strengthen and maintain their magic.

Emmery eyed the crowd, nerves swarming her gut.

But this was her chance to fit in. To feel normal among people like her—or at least some semblance of normal—though her dual scars and Shadowheart would always prevent that.

Various shades of red littered the crowd, Vesper and Callias’s red tunics and trousers included. Vesper yanked at his collar and fidgeted with his sleeves as they settled into the line.

The deep vee dipping down the front and back of her red dress barely hid her Shadowheart .

Emmery kept her breathing shallow, hoping the pin she precariously secured the tight fabric with wouldn’t pop open.

She’d found the dress tucked in the back of her closet and it somehow fit perfectly, like the rest of her clothes.

Her and Izora must have worn the same size.

Straying from her usual braids, Emmery’s hair tumbled down her back, tickling her skin as the sea breeze swept in. The rhythmic draw of magic resonated in her chest as the line shortened. But as they grew closer, Emmery’s heart leapt into her throat.

Vesper nudged her with a small smile. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled. She eyed the wolf insignia on his tunic and his neatly slicked back hair; his hands shoved casually in his pockets. “You clean up pretty good too.”

He grinned and her anxiety eased. “Do you have your daggers on you?” Emmery raised a brow and, with a cheeky smirk, pulled her skirt aside to reveal one. He huffed a laugh. “Why did I even ask? You’ll need it for the blood offering.”

“You Kenna and your obsession with bleeding. Kahlia must truly be bloodthirsty. When will it end?” She winked at Vesper.

“ Our obsession,” he corrected, waggling a finger.

Callias shot her a stern look. “Be careful how you speak of the Goddess. She’s always listening.”

Out of his sight, Vesper mimicked Callias, thrusting his hands on his hips and perfectly mastering his rigid brow. Emmery bit back a laugh. Vesper shook his head and mouthed, “Don’t worry about it.”

When they reached the front of the line, Callias stepped forward first and drew his dagger.

Lowering to his knees, the fabric of his trousers stretched over his massive thighs.

He brushed the tree roots protruding from the ground and bowed his head, a few stray blond locks falling in his eyes.

“Great Kahlia, please accept my sacred offer. I pledge to thee.”

He dragged the dagger across the meaty part of his palm and clenched his fist over the tree roots. The blood absorbed into the porous wood on impact and turned to ash. Emmery gaped, her eye-catching Vesper’s, his gleaming with anticipation.

As Callias made his way to the side of the tree, Vesper stepped forward and did the same, the red moonlight tinting his ashy hair. When he got to his feet, he signalled for Emmery.

Hesitantly Emmery strode toward the tree, feeling acute stares on her as she sank to her knees, her billowy red skirts like the halo circling the moon. Her heart ricocheted against her ribs as she reached for the dagger.

“Great Kahlia, please accept my sacred offer,” she said, low under her breath. Surely the gods would hear her even if she didn’t enunciate. Bracing herself, Emmery dragged the dagger across her hand, a sting joining the blade’s bite. “I pledge to thee.”

Emmery thrust out her arm and as the roots absorbed her dripping blood a wave of relief passed over her. What had she been expecting? A swift death? An explosion? She shouldn’t have been so worried. This was an ancient ritual—a common practice.

But as she narrowed her eyes on the root, her blood didn’t turn to ash.

No. Where it struck the ground, it began to glow.

Gold.

The glow spread like wildfire, webbing up the roots in a shimmering trail until it reached the trunk and divided between the branches, illuminating them in a brilliant golden glimmer.

Her stomach sank. Good gods, what had she done? This ... didn’t seem normal.

Frantically, Emmery stumbled to her feet and turned to Vesper. He looked as dumbstruck as her, his attention darting between her and the tree. Emmery’s gaze surveyed several others behind them in line, their mouths slack in surprise.

No, this was definitely not normal.

Callias’s lips parted, and he inclined his head to marvel at the golden flowers blossoming on each branch, the petals unfurling in the moonlight. His eyes blinked as if he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing.

“Emmery,” Vesper whispered, his voice hoarse. “The Goddess Ellynne. I—” he stuttered, “I think she’s speaking to you.”

As the hushed voices rose to a chaotic hum, men and women staggered back from Emmery like she was a volcano set to erupt—a volatile force not to be tampered with. The worried faces looked between each other and back at her, seemingly deciding if they would celebrate or turn on her.

Emmery darted to Vesper in case the crowd chose the latter. “That’s not possible,” she breathed, panic rising in her chest.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Callias whispered. He turned to Emmery, a rare look on his face. It resembled wonder of all things. “The Goddess has heard you.”

Vesper pointed. “Look.”

Emmery turned back to the tree. The blooming flowers fell one by one, scattered by the tender breeze. The golden blossoms rained down, like the stars falling from the sky.

Her breath stalled, heart stumbling in her chest.

One fluttered into her open palm, still sticky with her blood. The flower seemed to speak to her as it yawned open, as if it had an important message to convey but no words to do so. It sang to her in a language once known, a story’s beginning and ending craving to be rewritten.

Those who hadn’t fled watched in wonder. Dozens of heads bowed, knees bent and touched their scars. At her side, both Vesper and Callias kneeled too, two fingers pressed to their zvezda . But those who remained were not bowing to the Goddess.

No, they were bowing to her .

For summoning words from an absent goddess who abandoned them. For a sign that they were not alone even with the khaos flame extinguished.

They bowed to hope.

Tears pricked her eyes as she looked around, her throat burning with emotion.

Because she didn’t deserve this. To be bowed to when she’d done nothing .

She’d tried and failed to relight the khaos flame and was undeserving of their respect.

And all she did was unintentionally produce some flimsy blossoms.

She wanted to scream at them all to get back up. To stop looking at her like that. Like she was worthy of anything.

But the goddess then spoke to her, the message clear. Emmery’s stomach twisted as the golden flower withered in her palm and turned to ash on the wind.