Page 128 of The Truths We Burn

“We are not doing anything irrational right now.” Alistair steps in, doing what he does—controlling. “I’m not saying it doesn’t need to happen. We just need to make sure we’re going at it with a clear head and not fueled by our emotions.”

His dark eyes flicker towards me.

It’s in that moment that I realize how deep in my own shit I am. Because even though Alistair is making sense, I don’t want to listen. Even if I have to go after that scum on my own, I’ll do it. Even if I don’t want to, even if I need them.

I will torture that sorry excuse of man until he’s crying for his mother and begging me to give him the mercy of death.

Even if it means taking the fall on my own. I would do it.

Because no one, not even me, deserves the kind of pain Sage harbors on her soul from what he did to her.

“We are going to do it,” Silas persists, “and I want you to stay at my parents’ house until it’s done.”

The room goes still, and my blood pressure skyrockets.

“Not fucking happening,” I growl. “She is not staying with you.”

His head snaps towards me, so quick I can almost hear it crack.

“Don’t forget, Rook. It’s my girlfriend that died, my girlfriend we are avenging.”

I walk towards him, trying hard to remind myself that he is grieving. That he is going through something unbelievably unfortunate, but it’s not working.

“Don’t forget, Silas,” I hiss, “your girlfriend is not Sage, and she doesn’t need you to protect her.”

“Yeah? Are you going to do it?”

I draw back from him. What the fuck is he saying right now?

I know he lost Rose and he’s trying to grab at the pieces of her that are still left. But this, this is crossing a line I didn’t realize I had.

There is a fierceness sizzling in his gaze, one I can’t remember seeing before, and it’s making him feel like more of a threat than a brother.

Sage may not be a friend—we may hate one another—but it’s ours.

And she is mine.

“You fucking—”

“Stop,” Sage says loudly, looking at the both of us. “Let me make this clear for everyone. I am not a damsel in distress, and I won’t let you put yourself at risk for something that I can handle. I can slay my own demons, and I don’t need you or anyone else to hand me a knife to do it.”

The phoenix.

There she is, glowing, bright, destructive.

They tried to make her into dust, and look at her now.

A goddamn force.

“Everyone just fucking calm down. We can talk about this when everyone has a chance to process,” Alistair says, “I do think you staying with Silas is a good idea. It’s the best way to keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need—”

“It’s not about protecting you,” he snaps, eyes dark. I know it’s because he isn’t over what happened to Briar. “That’s at the bottom of my fucking priorities. I don’t know if we should fully trust you yet. This is an insurance policy. We can watch your every move, so if you even think about working with that fed, we will know about it.”

Rain trickled down from the sky hard, pouring from the pitch-black sky. I watched it fall from my place on Thatcher’s covered courtyard space. Lightning strikes illuminated the clouds for a singular second, broadcasting the immersive sculpture garden just beyond the in-ground pool before darkness took over once again.

I closed my eyes just as the thunder shook the earth, allowing myself to succumb to the soft pitter-patter.