Chapter 247 247

Chapter 247 247
The best moments—the ones you wish would last forever, that would stretch out as much as possible—usually last the same as a blink. They vanish so quickly that their taste barely lingers on your tongue. Instead, those moments you wish would pass as fast as possible, don’t. Life makes sure you savor them so much that you can feel them in the back of your throat even days later.

Tragedies don’t happen quickly; they unfold slowly, so you don’t miss a thing, and then your nightmares can feed on it.

Without a doubt, everything that’s about to happen will haunt each and every one of my nightmares from this very moment.

“What do you mean it’s a trap?”

Caelum shakes his head.

“I don’t know.” He clenches and unclenches his fists as though he needs to do something with his hands to keep from losing control. “All I know is something is wrong with Bryelle, and it’s far too much of a coincidence that it happens right when you’re away.”

I turn to Azeroth.

“You have to take me back.”

“Take you where?”

Cassian, looking immaculate, as though he hadn’t just been planning and arguing moments ago, appears before us. He rolls up his shirt sleeves and shoots a look at Caelum that makes me think he’s more than ready to break his knuckles if necessary. I can smell his jealousy.

“Cassian.” Anguish laces my voice. “Something’s wrong, the twins…”

His whole face transforms, shifting from one eager for a fight to one drained pale with fear. I don’t need to say another word. He squares his shoulders and goes straight to the god, communicating silently with him. Azeroth nods and extends his hand toward me. I lace my fingers with my father’s and close my eyes, praying to any merciful being willing to hear my pleas.

I feel my partner’s presence at my back, and the fear is so strong my eyes sting with unshed tears. Maybe it’s maternal instinct or a sixth sense, but I have a bad feeling. The tension radiating from Caelum’s body isn’t a good sign either. The tingling spreads through my whole body, and I know at this moment we’ve left behind the chamber where we were. Immediately, I hear the crackle of flames and open my eyes, face-to-face with hell.

A hell that seems designed for me.
The camp is destroyed, fire kissing everything and stretching toward the sky as if it wants to touch it. The corpses of the Blood Wraiths lie before our eyes, some so covered in their own blood it’s impossible to recognize their faces. Others seem to have survived—or are trying to—dragging themselves along as best they can, clutching their wounds with their hands in the hope of stemming the bleeding.

I’m utterly paralyzed by the horror, and it’s Cassian, moving frantically, who pulls me from this state. We both start running, scanning side to side in search of any familiar face. Most of the corpses have no names to me, but my heart weeps for each of these women who met their end, undoubtedly because of us.

I glimpse Nymera’s hut and quicken my pace, hope fighting to push through in my chest. Yet it crumbles to nothing when I see the state of the interior. Broken chairs, food on the floor, the Blood Wraith’s treasured comb stained with blood… and that isn’t the only thing to suffer such a fate. There’s more blood. So much more.

I cover my lips to stifle the scream climbing my throat.

“Where are our daughters?” I whisper.

Cassian doesn’t respond; he’s as catatonic as I am. Yet unlike me, he manages to pull himself together quickly and act. He whirls around and begins searching like a madman. I do the same and am startled to see Caelum is with us as well. Desperation is etched on his face. With every body we leave behind, my hope shrinks smaller and smaller until, when we see the golden-eyed boy huddled beside his father, it’s reduced to dust.

The moment Zerion lifts his gaze and my eyes meet his, filled with regret and remorse, I know. My knees give out, but Azeroth is fast and catches me by the elbow, keeping me from hitting the ground.

“Where are my daughters, Zerion?” Cassian asks through gritted teeth.

Little Tharion disappears inside, his face smudged with blood, hair tousled, though he shows no signs of being hurt. Zerion watches him go, sees him slip into one of the few huts spared by the flames.

“They came from everywhere. I thought the barriers were strong—I thought they couldn’t be broken…”

Before he can say more, the boy reappears, this time with a small bundle in his arms. I rush to him and take Evren from his little hands. I search her over, looking for any harm. Beyond her scrunched face, she doesn’t appear to have suffered anything. Still, she squirms restlessly, as if she too can feel something isn’t right.

“And Bryelle?”

Cassian’s voice is hollow, as if he already knows the answer.

“Elara.” The Halfbloods’s voice leaves no room for doubt. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t…”

Before he finishes, I dash into the hut, where I find Nymera wounded and bloodied, kneeling beside a small bundle. Tears stream down her face, and no matter how she tries to hide it, the trembling of her lips betrays her. I approach slowly, though a voice in my head warns me not to, that what I’ll see will break me forever.

The Blood Wraith lifts her face, surprise etched there, as if she can’t believe I’m here. The plan was different—I wasn’t supposed to return until tomorrow—but I suppose the enemy doesn’t care about plans. That brief moment of confusion gives way to another torrent of tears. My friend shakes her head, unable to look at me.

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this…” she sobs.

With trembling fingers, I peel back the blanket and see what I already expected: Bryelle’s pale, lifeless face. The blow is precise, shattering my heart into a thousand pieces scattered to the wind, impossible to ever mend. I can taste the salt of my tears. I don’t know who takes Evren from my arms; I only know that one moment I’m holding a daughter with a beating heart and warm skin, and the next I’m cradling Bryelle’s small, cold body.

“No…” I stroke her cheek with my finger. “Sweetheart, Mama’s here.” I brush the hair from her forehead. “Let me see your blue eyes, please.”

I can’t breathe, can’t stay upright. My knees hit the ground as I shake my head, as if doing so could change the image, as if I could banish this like a bad dream. My tears taste of sulfur straight from the Underworld itself.

My father’s presence is too powerful not to feel, and clutching Bryelle’s body to me, I lean against his legs and look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Please… bring her back.”

My words cut into him, contorting his face as though he feels my searing pain inside himself.

“Papa, bring my daughter back, I beg you.”