Chapter 16

I scalethe rough stone walls of the Bakva fortress, my fingers finding purchase in the crevices between the weathered blocks. I move swiftly and silently, my muscles straining with each pull upward. The darkness is my ally, cloaking me from the eyes of any watchful guards.

As I near the top, I pause, listening for any signs of movement. Hearing none, I hoist myself over the ledge and into Annora's bedchamber.

My feet find the floor without a sound, and I straighten to find her sitting at her vanity.

She catches my reflection in the looking glass and whirls around. "Why are you here?"

I step closer. "To take you to Sharhavva with me." Knowing I need to say the words this time, I add, "Tonight."

Her gaze holds mine, a storm of emotions whirling within those depths. "Why?"

"Because you belong with me."

A frown tugs at Annora's mouth as she rises to her feet. "You can't just decide where I belong."

"I don't decide it. I feel it." I let my gaze roam over her, drinking in the way her cotehardie hugs her curves, accentuating her lithe figure.

Her breath hitches, and she takes a step back, though her eyes remain locked on mine. "You can't just barge into my life and make these proclamations."

I most definitely can.

"I can when they're true." My gaze doesn't waver as I close the gap she put between us. "You feel it too. Don't deny it."

"Even if there is something, you know we cannot be together." She reaches for the necklace I gave her and squeezes the pendant between her fingers. "It is forbidden for people from our houses to be together."

"I am chieftain. I determine what is and isn't forbidden." I say, my tone as firm and unyielding as the scorched earth of the Gianna Desert.

Another frown tugs at her mouth. "Asha wants me to marry a man from House of Silver."

Anger smolders through my veins at the very idea of Annora marrying someone else. "You cannot marry him. You belong with me."

A sigh escapes her as she sinks back to her chair in front of the vanity and turns away from me. The sight of her like this sends a pang through my chest. I step closer to her, but she doesn't budge. She remains still as a statue, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the mirror.

"Is something else amiss, Annora?"

A tremor ripples through her like a gust of wind through a field of wheat.

I grab a chair, position it near her, then sit. "Will you tell me what happened?"

She sniffs but doesn't answer.

I place my hands against my legs and lean forward. "Sharing your burden might help lighten it. Let me help carry it with you."

"You cannot carry it, Jasce. Nobody can."

"I am quite strong," I say, hoping my attempt at humor might help ease the tension.

It doesn't.

"Is this about what Asha wants from you? You feel conflicted between your duty and me?" Even saying those words makes my chest tighten at the thought of her thinking about marrying someone else.

"No." Annora looks up and brushes a stray strand of hair from her cheeks. "Why do I have Lyra's magic?"

I blink, not expecting that. "Because you are soul linked with her."

"Why, Jasce? Why am I soul linked with her? I didn't ask for it. I didn't ask for any of it."

She pauses, her bottom lip trembling before she finds her voice again. "Nor did I ask to wake in your bedchamber in your wife's body."

Her eyes search mine desperately, pleading for answers I'm not sure I have. "Tell me why that happened to me. Why was I chosen for this? What did I do to deserve to have my entire existence upended?"

I long to reach out, to pull her into my arms and soothe away the pain and confusion, but I fear my touch would only make things worse.

She leaps to her feet, fingers curling into tight fists at her sides. "Speak to me, Jasce. I need to understand."

I rake a hand through my hair. "I don't know why my mother chose you. I only know that she wove the soul-linking magic into the painting before you ever crossed paths with her. It's the only way it could have worked."

"She has ruined me," Annora whispers, her words so soft and broken that at first, they don't fully register. When their meaning sinks in, they are like a dagger plunging into my chest. Annora regrets everything that happened, even meeting me.

"You aren't ruined, Annora," I insist, my voice firm but gentle as I stand and step closer to her.

"Yes, I am." She waves her hands erratically. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have killed two men earlier." The moment the words leave her mouth, her eyes widen, and her skin turns pale.

"When did this happen?" I ask, trying to keep my tone even despite the shock pulsing through me.

"Does that even matter?" She sinks back into her chair and covers her face with her hands. "I'm a murderer. There's no other word for it."

"You aren't." I reach out to pull her hands away from her face.

"Yes, I am. You wouldn't know. You weren't there." Her voice cracks, and a single tear slips down her cheek.

"Don't cry." I use my thumb to wipe away the tear, wishing I could take away her pain too.

She sniffs and pulls away from me. "My entire life, I have been forced to live the way others have wanted me to live. Grandfather kept me locked inside, and I accepted every chain he placed on me. Now..." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "I am being forced again."

"By me?" I ask, my heart clenching at the thought that I might be the cause of her distress.

"By your mother," Annora says bitterly as she stands and moves to the window. "I cannot stay in Bakva with crimson magic that I don't know how to control. Nor can I be a prisoner again. I won't do it."

"There is a woman in Sharhavva who can teach you how to manage your magic." I cross the room and pick up her hematite necklace.

Anger flares in Annora's eyes as she turns from the window. "It's not mine. It's Lyra's."

I nod, knowing it would be inane to argue with Annora right now. "You need to put the hematite necklace back on."

Her brow lifts. "Why?"

"Because you have flames inside you, and if they have no way of getting out, they will smolder like a volcano, and when you do finally release them, they will erupt without any way of controlling them. The hematite helps quiet them."

I hold the necklace out to her.

"Yes, but if I'm not wearing it, I cannot cast Lyra's magic."

"If you don't wear the hematite, Annora. You'll never be able to manage it. It will manage you."

Her brow pinches as she crosses the room and takes the hematite from me. She slips it on, then strides to her bed and snatches up a worn leather satchel and begins shoving items into it with a frenzied urgency. First, she grabs her cherished collection of seashells from the shelf. They clatter together as she drops them into the bag. Next, she yanks two surcoats from their hooks in the armoire, the fabric whispering in protest as she stuffs them into the satchel, followed by several pairs of pants, nightdresses, and chemises.

I stand motionless, watching as she moves around the room like a whirlwind. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she snaps. "I'm leaving my family."

She reaches for her cloak and pulls it on. With trembling fingers, she grabs her veil next and slips it over her face, the material fluttering with each shaky breath she takes.

The moment she stands facing me, the satchel clutched tightly against her chest, I open my mouth to speak, but she beats me to it, her words sharp and unyielding.

"Let's go."

"Annora…"

She blinks quickly and jerks her chin up. "I don't want to talk."

"At least leave your sisters a letter."

Loose strands of reddish-brown hair fall against Annora's face as she shakes her head at me. "If I stop to write a letter, I will not leave them."

Her words sear into my chest like a serrated knife, cutting through me and wounding the part of me that cares deeply for her. The part that left a city on the brink of civil war for her. The part that defied all logic and reason just to be with her.

And now...

She's only leaving because she feels she has no other choice.

I clench my jaw and move to the window. She follows me, her steps slow, sluggish, as if with each one she takes, she keenly regrets her decision.

I gesture to the window. "After you."

Annora hesitates, her gaze drawn to the drop below. For a heartbeat, she lingers there, frozen, staring into the abyss, as if it might swallow her whole. Then, with a whispered prayer to Olah, she gathers her cotehardie in her hands and clambers over the weathered sill.

I follow close behind, and together we descend.

At the base of the fortress, Annora pauses and glances back, where moonlight limns the parapets in silver.

"I'm sorry, Ash," she whispers, then she turns away, and I follow her into the inky blackness.