Page 73 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

“Kill Izora. Burn Ellynne.” Her voice shrivelled. “You destroyed his family. His home.”

Destonne shook his head. “It’s not what you think.”

“Help me understand,” she begged. Everyone else had lied to her, including Briar. Maybe he could provide her with a shred of truth she could cling to. “Please,” she added, just as he had.

After helping her into her chair, Destonne sat across from her and hid the thorns under his sleeve. He pricked his finger and brought it to his lips, his expression steeled.

Folding his hands on the table, he sighed. “Some things are better not to know.”

“I need to,” she argued. “My memories are gone. I was betrothed to Vesper of all people. I don’t know if I loved him. I ... don’t remember anything.” She squeezed her temples. Had she known Destonne before all this too?

“I’ll tell you what I can. But first—” He nodded at her food like she was a fussy child refusing to touch her greens.

It was a deal. And as much as she would rather claw out her own eyes than give him the upper hand, Emmery sighed, forked a few slices of meat, and popped them in her mouth, chewing animatedly.

The meat melted on her tongue. Damn, it was good. She took another hefty bite.

“I have little memory of you,” he said, staring into her soul, his eye contact unwavering.

“Most of my time was spent in the north so I wasn’t in tune with the political gossip between the courts, but I believe your engagement was similar to mine and Izora’s—merely a political tie.

But, as I’m sure you know, my father detested the followings of Deimos and had no intention of honouring his truce to Malachi Merikh.

When my father seized Ellynne, after the capital burned, I wanted no part of it. ”

Emmery studied Destonne, his expression that same bored, unemotional mask. It was impossible to read, and she couldn’t see past it. Couldn’t lift the edges of that facade to peer underneath.

Vesper’s words played through her mind: People are rarely honest. In a world full of liars, words are meaningless . Was the King telling the truth? But why would he lie?

Destonne shoved the untouched wine glass away as if he couldn’t look at it a moment longer. “I wanted no part of what happened to Izora either.”

Emmery’s brows scrunched. “But you still killed her.”

“Believe me. What happened to her—” He glanced down at his fingers woven together. “It’s not what you think. I tried to ensure she didn’t suffer. It was mercy.”

“You didn’t explain why you burned Ellynne. You killed all those people. Left it in shambles . ” The bodies, blood, children—if only she could scrub it from her memory. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just seize it? Not murder all those innocents.”

“ We didn’t burn the kingdom. We didn’t kill those people,” he said, his voice quiet in the soft light of the room. “We merely claimed the land. After it was burned. In minutes.”

Her brows pulled together. “But if you didn’t do it, then who?”

They both watched each other for an impossibly long moment. A flicker of grief laced his expression. And not for those people.

No, it was for what he hadn’t said aloud. What he implied.

“Who?” she asked again, only to be met with a sharp inhale and even sharper nod.

Destonne held her stare, as horror washed over her. Did he see it in her eyes the moment it clicked? The moment her rib cage opened, and her heart was yanked out. A long silence passed, each horrific piece slicing into her chest.

Burned—not invaded, not trampled, not decimated by soldiers.

The kingdom was burned .

The mere brush of her fingers had scorched Vesper’s armour.

Hadn’t she seen it in the images at the Skyborne Temple and refused to believe it?

In her own Stone of Refraction, the destruction had centered in the images.

The temple had trembled in her fight with Melantha.

Her unruly power roared inside her, whispering the confession.

Emmery squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s not possible. It couldn’t have been me ... Why would I—?” Her voice broke. “It had to be someone else. With magic like mine.”

“No one has magic like yours, or close to the sheer power. The blessing of fire can light a hearth, maybe burn a shop to the ground, not torch a whole kingdom in moments.”

She fractured, her tired body trembling under the weight of her actions.

When she’d asked if Destonne had done it, Vesper merely answered He’s taken too much from me. Not a direct denial but enough to hide the truth. Her khaos flame stole all of those innocent people’s lives. That’s why Callias hated her. She’d destroyed his home.

Oh gods, Briar’s face ... she had caused those burns.

How could Vesper look her in the eye after what she did?

Hot tears, filled not with sadness but hatred, clouded her eyes. Hatred for herself and what she was.

Monster , her magic taunted.

“Did you see it? Did you see me—” she started but her voice died.

“I only remember golden flames, angel. It was incriminating.”

Emmery harnessed her composure. Weakness wouldn’t get her anywhere and she couldn’t let him see it. Couldn’t let him use it against her.

Emmery’s stomach roiled as she took a deep, cleansing breath. “Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

“Maybe we should call it a night,” he offered. He studied her wet eyes. “Tomorrow—”

“ No ,” she snapped, swiping the threatening tears before they could fall with an abrupt hand. She was done being lied to. Manipulated. Made a fool. “Tell me what you want from me.”

“Very well.” With a sigh, Destonne propped his elbows on the table. “I want a lot of things. But first, I want your alliance.”

“No.” The refusal sat on the table, hovered in the air between them, those two letters clearly not something he was used to hearing, especially twice in such quick succession. She narrowed her eyes at him to stand her ground. “Next.”

“You haven’t even heard my pitch yet. It’s quite spectacular. A real heart-wrenching special.” His attempt to lighten the mood fell flat, her aching heart incapable of humour.

“No,” she said again, her new favourite word tasting like power. Leaning in, she lowered her voice to a deadly whisper, and said, “I see who you are. You’ve lied, killed, and stolen magic from the land. From your own people.” Her lip curled back from her teeth. “I will never stand by you.”

“I’m going to make you eat those words,” he threatened, his voice impossibly soft and sharp simultaneously. His attention warred between her eyes and mouth, his brows creasing. “Who told you I stole magic?”

Her frown gave him his answer.

Unflinchingly, he inched closer. “I have an opportunity to get what you want. Answers to all those endless questions. All you have to do is put a little faith in me. Make an tiny bargain.”

She refused to balk from his proximity as his smell swept over her—strawberries on his breath, cool mint, expensive soap, and something else.

“What could you possibly have that I want so badly?” she challenged.

Tilting his head, the tip of his nose brushed hers. Emmery’s breath caught as the sliver of space between them collapsed.

This was a game—a test to see who would pull away first. Sadly, he’d underestimated her. She wouldn't back down.

Voice low, he breathed, “Your memories.”

Emmery’s chest tightened as those two words sucked the oxygen from the room. Rage flared bright and hot through her veins, her magic pressing against the restraints.

“Give. Them. Back,” she seethed, her face heating. “ Now , you piece of shit.”

From the twitch of his lips, this only amused him, but the blood dribbling down his temples told her differently. And he was so close, she could see the glossiness of the blood as it trailed the contours of his face like water meandering a river.

“You misunderstand,” he said, his voice rough. “I don’t have them here . But I have the means to get them. All you have to do is agree to help me.”

Emmery almost snorted at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m not making a bargain with you. You’re going to have to beg on your hands and knees before I even consider listening to some demented scheme.”

“You should know, Emmery,” he said, her name on his lips making her squirm.

He spoke slowly, a sinful bass to his tone, like the words he said were innuendo for the temptations hiding beneath them.

He leaned closer—close enough for a split-second Emmery’s eyes fell shut.

“Don’t mistake my decency for weakness. I don’t beg.

I don’t grovel. And I certainly don’t fall to my knees for anyone.

I get what I desire and deal accordingly with those who stand in my way.

” He left those statements in the fraction of space between them, each sinking into her flesh, bones, and mind.

“Do you want to be someone who challenges me, or gains my alliance?”

“You’ve underestimated my stubbornness. I can’t be easily swayed,” she said carefully. Lost in his dark stare, Emmery’s heart hammered. His eyes truly were wholly black. Depthless. A thick fan of lashes sheltered them.

“I think you’ll find,” he breathed, his tone holding the promise of wicked things. “I can be very ... persuasive .”

Emmery swallowed hard, her cheeks heating as she unravelled his words. What had he said that day in Malheim about the language of seduction? About teaching her? He was surely insane. He had to be.

But their mingled breath brushed her lips and his eyes hooded, the desire in the air between them palpable. Her entire body flushed in response, her pulse suddenly pounding everywhere. What in the world was happening?

Brennen’s nails clicked along the floor as he approached the table, and she nearly leapt out of her skin.

What did it look like he walked in on? Emmery could barely breathe, but she refused to be the first to pull away. She refused to lose this game.

The wolf waited patiently for the King’s notice.

Throat working, Destonne’s eyes traced the lines of her face, birthmark, resting on her lips, seemingly fascinated by them. His jaw clenched, a muscle feathering in it. “Can’t you see I’m busy , Brennen.”

The wolf’s voice echoed through Emmery’s head the moment the King’s eyes widened.

“Prince Vesper is here to see you.”