Page 40

Jude

I left my heart on a doorstep in Mena nineteen years ago. I miss it with every passing day, and I wish I’d been brave enough to realize I could have been enough for you.

Unmailed letter from the Fox, year 45 of the curse

My mother was crying.

It struck me as such a peculiar sight that I didn’t react right away.

Kiara did.

She worked her arms around Emelia—who still hadn’t released Finn—and pushed herself against my mother’s chest, the silk of her corset absorbing the overflowing tears. They’d run rampant, unrestrained as they trickled down from her kohl-smudged eyes. Kiara shooshed into Emelia’s ear, running her scarred hand up and down her cheek.

I hadn’t moved since we’d bolted the door. Neither had Jake or Liam. They bowed their heads, unable to look upon the wounded bodyguard.

As I watched the mother I’d never known cry over the man she’d loved, another thought struck me: she’d given up so much for this mission, prepared to lose everything . Emelia had enlisted those closest to her knowing how treacherous this endeavor would be.

And she’d done it for me .

In that raw moment where streaks of misery and relief wet her ruddy cheeks, I saw her for the first time.

Broken. Flawed. Human .

Somewhere along the way, whether it was before Raina delivered her the truth or after, my mother had been shattered.

Hells, I’d been broken, but I also had support in Isiah, and now, Kiara. Finn was hers. I’d been wrong to assume that my mother was an unfeeling wench. A woman without remorse.

She’d left me because she was frightened, and I suspected being the daughter of a fallen goddess hadn’t been easy. Moving from town to town to avoid suspicion. Never knowing who or what you were. And a mother who likely thought her distance would protect her child.

It must’ve been incredibly lonely.

I hadn’t realized I’d moved until I stood before her.

Tentatively, I reached around Emelia’s waist, easing her to my chest, my hands drifting up her back. She must’ve sensed it was me, because she melted in my arms, her grip on my shirt fierce as she fisted the material. She whispered my name and repeated the same word over and over again until it echoed like a grief-riddled mantra.

Sorry.

Neither Jake nor Liam interrupted, the boys delving deeper into the recesses of the dimly lit room. I detected no imminent danger, so I indulged, allowing myself to hold the woman that gave me life, a slowly rousing Finn resting between us.

Emelia continued to repeat the lone word, and the final time she murmured it, I responded.

“I…I understand,” I sighed, meaning it. I didn’t forgive her, not yet—I wasn’t a saint—but I understood . “It’s all right.” I shushed her as Kiara had done, and she sobbed harder after my admission.

The minutes slipped by, one joining the other, time a distant, flimsy thing. Only when Emelia sniffled and drew away did I allow my arms to fall. Coldness greeted me, replacing her warmth, and the lost child in me wanted to run back into her embrace.

Emelia brought her red-streaked stare to me, the subtle glow of my eyes shedding light upon every fallen and smothered tear.

We didn’t say another word to each other. Nothing cliche or sentimental. And that was all right. Instead, she took one of my hands in hers and squeezed.

Such a simple thing, and yet years of hatred and blame and anger slipped from me like forlorn sighs.

“It seems like the sand cauterized Finn’s wound,” Kiara observed, stepping into view, her luminous strands catching the golden rays of the lingering magic seeping from my skin. Her braided hair had come nearly undone, loose tendrils falling into her eyes, the ends slipping down to graze her stained top. I imagined the pristine silk would soon be marked with blood.

“Jude, maybe you and Emelia can help transport him,” she suggested. Kiara scanned the small room, doubt causing her to chew her bottom lip. “I don’t know what else is in store for us if we remain here.”

Jake reached into Finn’s discarded satchel and produced a box of matches. He walked over to where two sconces were bracketed to the wall and lit a spark, holding the match until the flames caught on the wick. The meager light glanced off a metal doorway encased in shadows.

The next door, and hopefully, the final room.

“I’ll help carry him,” Emelia said stiffly, her familiar mask sliding into place. I wouldn’t have known she had been crying if not for the redness of her eyes or the wetness still drying on her rosy cheeks. She clenched her jaw and tilted her head to the doorway.

Kiara gave us room as I shifted a groaning Finn from my mother’s arms. He was heavy and barely cognizant, but with Emelia on his other side, we managed to carry him with greater ease.

My girl had drifted toward the dim, beyond the light of the flames.

“This door feels different,” Kiara said, apprehension darkening her words.

I cast my gaze forward, the subtle light I exuded allowing the others to take in the finer details. Several moons were etched onto its unblemished silver surface, tiny inlaid gems of blue and purple sparkling like vibrant stars. The metal lit up brilliantly.

Kiara released a sudden gasp.

“What is it?” I asked, my adrenaline spiking. In my grasp, Finn jerked, his pulse growing stronger.

“It’s…guarded. I can practically taste the magic coming off of it,” she explained. I frowned. I didn’t perceive the enchantment she spoke of , and that worried me.

Liam crouched next to his sister. The pair of them worked together, each gripping their chins in thought. They had similar mannerisms, and I even caught sight of Liam’s nostrils flaring at the same moment as hers.

“Hmm.” Liam leaned forward to inspect a larger piece of gemstone. Lifting his hand, he aimed for the twinkling stone—

A brilliant flare erupted the instant his finger connected, forcing us all to shield our eyes against the onslaught of blazing light.

Kiara’s shadows whirled from her shoulders, enfolding her brother.

The light went out as quickly as it appeared.

Finn grunted as if in pain, and Emelia immediately whispered in his ear, calming him as his eyes fluttered halfway open.

“What the hells was that?” Kiara yelled, grabbing for her brother’s hand. He winced. “Your finger is fucking blue, Liam.”

Liam’s finger, the one he’d used to touch the door, was indeed blue. He grimaced when she flipped it around to examine the unusual wound. It reminded me of frostbite. A few of my soldiers had lost their fingers and toes when we’d ventured to the far north during the Dark Winter a few years back, hoping to squash a rebel uprising.

“And it hurts, so there’s that,” Liam said with a strained smile. He tried to yank his hand back, but his sister wouldn’t allow it.

“Emelia, do you have anything you could use to wrap it up?” she asked tightly, her worry bleeding into her voice. Before the Fox could answer, Jake jumped into motion, searching the contents of her satchel. He came away with a roll of fresh linen.

Kiara hovered like a mother hen as Jake assumed control, and only when he scowled at her did she give them room.

“Let me know if it’s too tight,” Jake said gently to Liam, his tone not one I’d heard before. Cautiously, he wound the linen around Liam’s finger, taking great efforts to be careful. When he finished, I watched in shock as Jake leaned down to press a kiss to Liam’s injury. He held on to him long after the job was finished.

Jake had grown attached, his usual swagger absent when Liam faced any sort of danger. I wondered if it was new for him—the intense concern.

“I got him, Ki. Go on.” Jake motioned to the door. She lingered on her brother, but finally, she tore herself away, knowing he would be safe in Jake’s arms.

She stared upon the portal’s surface for far too long for my comfort before whirling around. “Fuck,” she cursed harshly, frustration evident in her eyes.

“Was that a good fuck, or a bad fuck?” Jake asked with another furtive peek at Liam.

“Take a lucky guess,” she mumbled as she caught my gaze. “I’m the only one that can enter.”

Hells no. “And why’s that?” I grated out, my muscles instantly tensing. Before she could reply, a howling wind swept through, blowing our hair and whipping at our fine clothes. It came from nowhere and everywhere, and Kiara’s lips parted in alarm.

“Can you hear them?” Kiara canted her head, moving frighteningly close to the door. “There are so many…”

“So many what?”

“They sound like…like prayers ,” she mused, blinking rapidly as if in a trance. “Not all of them belong here. Some are calling out for Lorian or Silas. To the other gods and goddesses.”

That made no sense. We were in the Moon God’s temple. Only his prayers should be heard.

“Maliah…” Jake began softly, his brow scrunched. “Back in the Pastoria Forest, she told us she didn’t have the same power as before, the same abilities. I wonder if—”

“He’s stealing prayers.” Everyone turned to Kiara. “The God of the Moon, he has to be stealing them to weaken the others. Prayers hold power, and without them…” She trailed off, not needing to finish her thought. We all knew.

If the Moon God was robbing the deities of their prayers, then he’d be unstoppable, and it would explain why they hadn’t banded together to take him down.

Emelia, who’d been silent until now, said, “The conniving bastard.” She shook her head in disgust. “The prayers directed to the other gods haven’t been answered in many years. At least, I don’t hear about the miracles like I used to. That’s why most people pray to the Moon God. Why they feel as if the rest of the immortals abandoned their people.”

Kiara nodded. “And this door…it’s enchanted. Sealed so only the Moon God or his…creations can enter.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “It reminds me of the forest when I was little. Of the—”

“The shadow beast,” Liam finished for her. His sister squeezed her eyes in reply. She’d already faced her greatest fear, and I understood how much it had wrecked her.

But she was right. As much as I despised it, Liam’s injury was the proof.

“That’s why it has to be you,” I said, hating every word.

Wetness glistened in her eyes, and when she gazed upon me, it felt final.

She held my stare. “If any of you enter, you’ll die.”