Kiran levels me with an unamused glare. “Why did you kill him?”
I step out of the cell, the door creaking as I do, and transform back into the human version of myself, one without fangs or venom or speed or an unhealthy aversion to sunlight.
I shrug. “Because you couldn’t.”
“She’ll feel betrayed,” Kiran says, knitting his brow in concern.
“Eh. I’m used to it. The question is, Kiran, do you feel betrayed?”
He flicks his molten eyes down toward me. “You know I can’t answer that question.”
“But you know what question you can answer? When Asha asks if you knew anything about this, you’re free, Kiran. Free to say you had nothing to do with it.”
It’s not quite a smile that tugs on Kiran’s lips. Probably because he knows he’ll have to break the news to Asha that her sadistic best friend is dead.
It’s not a smile.
But it’s close.
“We good?” I ask, injecting the question with way more eagerness than I intended.
This time, Kiran allows me the smallest of amused huffs, though his arms are still crossed.
“Yeah, Blaise. We’re good.”
CHAPTER 119
ELLIE
My father and I are in the workshop, covered in sweat and coating the last bunker door with glass. We’ve run out of weapons to fortify, so we’ve taken to preparing the city shelters.
I don’t let myself think about what will have happened in Naenden if these shelters become necessary.
What will have happened to Evander.
But as my father and I stare at the last of the bunker doors, waiting for the glass coating to cool, and I realize there is nothing left for me to do as far as preparing for an attack, a deep dread settles over my gut.
But then someone whistles from the doorway of the workshop, and other than Cecilia’s first cries, it’s the most wonderful sound I’ve ever heard.
“The two of you are making me grateful I had war as an excuse not to have to be cooped up in this hovel of a shop. Though, the climate of Naenden isn’t much better, let me tell—”
Evander doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because I’ve flung myself into his strong, sturdy arms and pressed what is probably a very sweaty kiss to his mouth.
If he notices, he doesn’t seem at all bothered. Instead, his smile brushes my lips as he kisses me back.
I’m not sure how much time passes before my father clears his throat, quite loudly. I pull away from the kiss, a bit sheepishly, though Evander doesn’t let go of me, and I don’t fight him on it.
Still tucked into my husband’s chest, I grin at my father as he pats Evander on the back and says, “It’s good to have you home, son.”
Son.
I don’t think I’m imagining it when Evander’s sea-green eyes glaze over with tears.
Evander insists he see Cecilia before doing anything else. My mother’s left eye twitches when he, still disgusting from his travels, takes Cecilia from her arms, but she has the good grace not to say anything.
After Evander has tossed Cecilia in the air sufficiently to get drunk on her giggles, he and I both clean up in my parents’ bathing facilities.
When I bombard him with questions about the battle, my well-meaning husband chooses to inform me that Asha was murdered by Az.
He chooses to tell me this before he tells me that Kiran sacrificed his immortality to bring her back to life, and that all of our friends are happy and healthy.
When I complain about the momentary panic he inflicted upon me, he grins and tells me it makes for a better story the way he told it.
It’s another hour before I speak to him again, but eventually he cajoles me by informing me that he’s thought long and hard about it, and has decided that, should I agree, he’d like to give up his immortality as well.
I tell him that’s a sweet gesture, but probably not one to be made rashly, especially when it could come in handy healing Cecilia later if need be.
In the end, he kisses me and tells me we will talk about it later.
After that, he keeps dangling the information about whether my glass coating worked.
I’m just settling into my rocking chair in the refurbished nursery later that day, when someone knocks on the door.
Evander, sitting in his own rocking chair across from me, startles, having fallen asleep as soon as he sat down. He’s more exhausted than he first let on, but I suppose that’s to be expected. I’m still waiting to hear what happened during the battle. Part of me is reluctant to know. I’m not sure I want to hear about all the occasions I almost became a widow.
“Evander!” a female voice calls from beyond the closed door. “Let me in before Mother finds me and makes me speak to her!”
I shoot my husband a questioning brow. Evander drags his hand over his sleepy features. “Did I forget to mention that I brought my sister home for a visit?”
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, you did.”
Evander groans and drags himself from the rocking chair and to the door. When he unlatches it, a female with golden hair who otherwise looks uncannily like Evander waltzes in. A tall, trim brunette male with tanned skin and vibrant blue eyes follows close behind her.
“Ellie,” Evander says, gesturing between me and the female, “This is my sister—”
“Olwen,” the female says, sauntering past Evander and toward the rocking chair. “I must say, when I heard my brother had married, I didn’t expect it to be to a genius whose invention would end up saving our lives. Quill and I would be sporting holes in our flesh from the wyvern acid if it weren’t for Evander’s shield. Say, have you ever considered becoming a professor?”
“Thornwall,” drawls the male who must be Quill, still hovering at the door, “we’re here to meet family, not recruit.”
Olwen flits her hand before turning and flashing him a mischievous grin. “Who says we can’t do both?”
I must say, I’m a bit confused regarding this interaction, considering the last I heard of Olwen Thornwall, she’d isolated herself in a tower of vines of her own making.
Evander, reading my mind, says, “Apparently, there have been quite a few developments in the past year.”
I’m about to ask for an explanation, but Olwen’s eyes go wide, and her rather arrogant expression softens. “I take it this is Cecilia?” she asks.
She has the look of someone who wants to hold a baby.
