Page 74 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

A s Destonne groaned low in his throat and retreated, leaving only heat and unexplained tautness in the air between them, a victorious smile crept onto Emmery’s lips.

Rising from the table, he said, “I’m assuming it’s about our lovely guest.” Destonne brushed past Brennen and threw over his shoulder at Emmery. “Are you coming?”

She hesitated and gripped the chair’s armrests. Did she want to see Vesper knowing how he had sold her off? After the full sting of his betrayal?

Yet, heart in her throat, she rose from the table. They led her down several cold, echoing stairwells, the walls entirely bare of decor. The King and wolf were dark misshapen shadows lurking among the puzzlingly white palace. They held a conversation she only heard one side of.

“Yes, I know.” Destonne winked at Emmery over his shoulder.

A long, hot sigh. “What would you like me to do about it, Bren?”

“She is.” A pause and brief glance at Emmery followed by a twitch of his lips. “ Yes , she is.”

They entered a cavernous room with no furniture but a long red carpet leading to the door and a white throne with an emblem painted in bright red on the massive back rest: a lion with long fangs roaring at the sun.

While Destonne plopped himself on the throne, he gestured for Emmery to join him. Guards dressed in impeccable silver armour flanked each side and lined the ivory carpet. She gingerly stepped forward, stopping an arm’s reach from the throne.

“I would offer you a seat but we only have the one. Though I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” His eyes slid to her, full of mischief.

Her cheeks reddened. “I’d rather set myself on fire.”

“Suit yourself.” A hint of a smile almost grazed his lips. “The invitation is open.”

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but couldn't staunch the heat creeping up her neck. He certainly noticed her flush. And she was surely only here to taunt Vesper anyway.

Destonne nodded at the door. “Let him in.”

Brennen clamped his jaws around the handle and pulled, only for Vesper to burst through. Jumping back to avoid the swinging door, Brennen rolled his orange eyes.

Between his wild stare, crumpled clothes, and dishevelled hair, Vesper looked horrendous. He kept his attention locked on the King as he stalked forward. Brennen growled and joined Emmery, brushing up against her leg as he sat. A silent promise to step in if things went poorly.

Clearing his throat, Destonne started, “Vesper. Good to see you.”

“Save it,” Vesper growled. “Why do I still have this bloody thing?” He ripped off his glove and flashed the lion pactum. “Our deal is done .”

Destonne’s eyes sparkled wickedly. “Not according to our terms, Vessy. Remember?”

Vessy ? Emmery smothered her laugh in her hand. Destonne noticed and the corner of his mouth lifted but he kept his eyes on Vesper.

“I haven’t forgotten. I had a minor setback, but I kept my end. Now you keep yours.” His fists clenched like he was debating taking a swing at the King. Maybe he would try. “Death is the one way to sever a pactum. What did you do?” He spat the last words with such venom, Emmery shrank back.

The room overflowed with tension as the two large presences swelled.

Destonne narrowed his eyes. “First, you were supposed to deliver your end before the Fallen Equinox. I had to retrieve her myself and after . Second, I don’t know if I would call dying a minor setback, but they’re your words, not mine.

” Destonne blinked slowly like the tedious conversation bored him.

“I fear the amulet you used was forged specifically to ensure the pactums hold, even after death. Deimos wanted to ensure if Kahlia were to die, she couldn’t escape their deal. It’s a bit of a unique circumstance.”

“ Take it back ,” Vesper seethed. “You got what you wanted.” He nodded at Emmery but didn’t dare meet her eyes. “I gave you ... her .”

Emmery’s blood boiled. He spoke as if she was some ... thing to be handed over.

“Yes, however, when I make a pactum, I expect every term to be followed. And you did no such thing. Since you didn’t keep your end, I won’t keep mine. Our deal is void.”

“ Void ? You’re bloody joking.” A flush raced up Vesper’s neck. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

“Semantics,” the King taunted. “I think I’ll hold onto this for a future favour. And since I don’t have all day, I’ll be gracious and give you to the count of ten to make a decision. Lose your kingdom and freedom or owe me a favour of my choosing. One—”

“Stop,” Vesper warned, his temper spilling over. Emmery had never seen it to its full extent, not even when she’d resurrected him, but now that she was, she took a cautious step back.

“Two.” Destonne lifted another finger. “Three.”

“ Stop .” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I fucking mean it.”

The four didn’t leave the King's lips before Vesper lunged and his fingers found his windpipe. A guard sprung to detain him, but Destonne waved them off.

If Vesper wanted to choke the King, he could channel his air magic.

But no. He wanted this —to hurt him with his bare hands.

“ Fuck you !” Vesper roared in the King’s face. Destonne flashed an unfriendly baring of his teeth. Emmery froze from the sheer venom tainting the air.

“Didn’t your father ever warn you not to make a deal with a demon?” Destonne wheezed, a hoarse chuckle rumbling in his chest like he was enjoying this. He did nothing to fight back.

“I’ll kill you!” Vesper snarled. His cheeks flamed, eyes wild. “You bastard !”

“At least you got one thing right.” Destonne gave one of his guards a nod and they yanked Vesper away with a harsh jerk and restrained his arms. Begrudgingly, the King rubbed his neck, and the thorns retracted from his chest leaving several bloody puncture wounds.

Vesper spat on the ground beside him as the guard pushed him to his knees. “No more deals. No more nonsense. If you don’t forgive this bargain, I’m leaving with her—”

“I doubt she would even go with you after what you did.” Blood smeared his neck, fingertips, and across his cheek—painted like a canvas.

Vesper quieted, his breathing rapid. “You don’t understand. I lost ... everything.” Finally, his eyes lifted to Emmery and the regret and pain in them was unmistakable. A lump formed in her throat, and she tore her gaze away. Him feeling sorry wouldn’t fix this.

Destonne examined the scarlet on his fingertips. “I don’t see how that’s my fault.”

“If you hurt her,” Vesper roared, struggling. “I swear to the gods I’ll rip your heart out.”

“I’m afraid someone has beaten you to it.” Blood steadily trickled down his face. Perhaps feeling her gaze, he turned to Emmery. “What would you like? Return with Vesper or stay here? The choice is yours.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked between them. Vesper’s eyes were wide as she hesitated. There were no circumstances in which she wanted to return with him. Not after what he’d done. “I don’t suppose I can choose neither option,” she said on a long sigh.

“Unfortunately, not.” Destonne shook his head, his voice notably softer. “It’s not safe out there right now, angel.”

“Don’t call her that!” Vesper spat. “She might not know what a monster you are, but I do. I won’t let her stay here. She’s coming with me !”

Emmery chewed her lip as she looked between the men. Instinct led her and she didn’t think, just spoke. “I want to stay here.”

The hurt in Vesper’s sigh was palpable.

Destonne’s eyes widened but he agreed, “Very well.” He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt. “Vesper, make your decision now or lose both. I’m growing tired of this.”

Vesper fought against the guard, wrenching his arms free. “Keep your bloody favour.”

His eyes locked with Emmery’s as he rotated his shoulder with a wince. Emmery recalled the time she’d reset it, and he gave her that tin of balm for her battered feet. It was the first time she’d thought Vesper might actually care for her.

The night he dried her tears after summoning Maela chased that memory, tumbling into a series of images.

Emmery tried to push away the night he’d kept her warm at the inn as she spilled her secret shames, but it too pressed against her mind until it was all she saw as she met those pale eyes she’d grown to trust. Now they only held lies.

He’d made her think they were friends. Vesper had been her best friend.

But it had been a ploy.

All a manufactured lie to get her into Destonne’s hands.

Betrayal stung the back of her throat so entirely, like swallowing a handful of bees.

As if he remembered too, Vesper tore his gaze away and said hoarsely, “But I’m taking Fionn with me.”

Destonne shook his head. “Not now. I’ll send word when he’s recovered.”

Emmery’s knees wobbled. The name had to be a coincidence, but she asked anyway, “Fionn?”

“Yes, you know Fionn. Briar’s brother.” Destonne turned to her, catching her confused expression, her brows bunched, and eyes rounded. “Ah, I see. Another thing he kept from you?”

Her head swam, too many questions surfacing to grasp only one.

Her Fionn? He was alive after all this time. How was it possible?

“C-can I see him?” she asked, her voice quivering. Emmery could barely form a coherent thought around the shock.

Destonne pulled his mouth to the side and whispered to her, “He’s not in any shape for visitors. Why don’t you see him in a few days?”

“I need to. Now ,” she practically cried, the desperation of all those years away from her friend crawling up her throat and bleeding into her voice.

Fionn. Her first friend. Her only friend from back in the human realm.

Destonne gave her a nod but as she turned to leave, Vesper snagged her wrist.

“Emmery, please , don’t go. I need to explain,” he pleaded.

As she looked down at his hand circling her arm her chest ached. She had so many questions for him, but the wreckage from his betrayal was still a fresh wound refusing to clot, and her mind whirred.

Vesper fumbled for words as his thumb skimmed the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist as if he could catch her pulse. “Please, I just—Emmery,” he choked out. “You—you’re my best friend too.”

The words destroyed her. Ripped her down the middle and exposed every piece of her still capable of hurt. A sob rose in her throat, but Emmery shoved it down.

You’re the only one who has held me without hurting me. Her words clanged through her—sharp and raw. What an imbecile she’d been. To think anyone could care for her.

“I know,” she started, her voice a honed blade.

“I know everything now.” Her eyes lit into flames while his extinguished—that moonlit glow she’d come to love now dulled.

“All the lies you told ... you manipulated me, and I trusted you. And you—you hurt me.” She choked on the bitter admission, the tears burning the back of her throat.

But she didn’t let herself feel it as an icy calm froze her poor, beaten heart.

It was the only way. “I shared things I haven’t told anyone.

I let you make a fool of me. And you promised—” Vesper flinched.

“I should’ve listened to you from the start.

As you said, nothing is free, nothing is fair.

I just ... I didn’t know the cost would be too great for you to actually give a shit about me. ”

The questions crawled up her throat: Was any of it true ? Were you ever really my friend?

Because it felt so ... real.

But she jerked her arm free of his grasp—not able to look at him a moment longer.

She murmured, her voice tired, “I don’t want to see you again. You’re dismissed.” Emmery didn’t wait to see his reaction. She didn’t care. She couldn’t—not for the sake of her sanity.

Destonne’s eyes flicked between the two of them, hesitation, and amusement in his raised brows, before saying, “You heard her.”

Emmery strode from the chamber and Vesper desperately called after her. She didn’t look back, leaving him behind as she had her cottage, her old life, anything that had ever made her feel okay.

But as she crossed the threshold of the door and rounded the corner, her knees buckled.

She braced herself against the wall as her heart cracked open and humiliatingly spilled for everyone to see.

It took several moments to collect herself and summon all the bitter strength which had kept her going all these years.

This would not break her—she wouldn’t let it.

Destonne’s sharp words escaped the throne room as Brennen led her to Fionn’s chamber. “If you ever touch her again without her permission,” malice simmered in the King’s words; his tongue biting as he said, “I’ll cut off your hands myself.”