Admit it—you’re in over your head.
But that had never stopped her from kicking for the surface with all of her might. At least now she had an ally of sorts. She and Sephrael didn’t trust or even like each other, but they had a common view of the Synod and now a shared interest in keeping her alive. She sniffed away a fresh batch of tears at the thought that those two things made him possibly the best friend she’d ever had. Besides Corvin…
If he still wants anything to do with me.
Once the healers had done their work, Audrey slipped down the hall, poking her head into rooms until she found the right one. She took one step inside, and Smoke dive-bombed her, digging his claws into her shoulder as he pecked the side of the head repeatedly.
“Ow! You—ow! Okay, okay, I get it!” She batted him off. He landed on the foot of Corvin’s bed, huffing and puffing with his feathers on end, looking like he was ready to spring into attack mode again if she took another step.
She held up her hands. “I get it. I’m sorry. I came to apologize.”
Caw! Carrow-carrow-caw! he said, chewing her out in raven-speak.
She cringed but growled back, “I know! I’m trying to make it right. Can you give us a minute?”
He ruffled his feathers and shook his head.
“Please?”
He gurgled low and hopped to the floor.
Caw-caw, he said and then scuttled through the cracked door.
By the looks of how soundly Corvin was sleeping, he might not remember this conversation. That bolstered her courage. She lifted the covers and slid into the bed next to him. He stirred, turning and pulling her into his chest.
“Corvin,” she whispered, giving his shoulder a gentle shake.
His eyes slit open. “Audrey?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
He paused long enough for her to think he’d drifted back to sleep—and she was okay with that. She would be content if he could just hold her for the rest of the night, if that was all they had.
A tiny crease appeared between his brows. “Was it all a bad dream?”
“No,” she whispered, her breath catching in her chest. “You’re in the healing ward.”
He blinked his eyes open with effort. “What are you doing here?”
She clung to him, refusing to let him pull away. “I came to tell you I’m sorry.” A tear slipped down her cheek, unbidden. “Sorry for drugging you, and sorry for…everything.”
He came more alert and shoved at her weakly, even as she pulled him closer. It took him a moment to focus on her in the gloom. All he said was, “Why?”
When she couldn’t answer, he said, “Why did you want to leave me?”
“I wasn’t leaving you,” she said. “It’s this place… I can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
She buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, so tired and confused and overwhelmed. “I can’t tell you.”
He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. “Try.”
His arms loosened around her, and he painted comforting strokes down her back.
Another tear slipped out, and she wiped it away. “If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t tell your mother. Or anyone.”
“Okay.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
“Before I came here, I was in an asylum. Do you know what that is?”
His brow furrowed. “Yes.”
“I’m not crazy,” she added quickly. “It was a plea bargain. Anyway, I was there, and it was…pretty awful. I had been there about a month, and I was just breaking out when the Hohlwen found me, drained me, and brought me here.”
He kissed her forehead. “That must have been so terrifying. You must have thought you really were going crazy when you got here.”
She pulled back and gave him a sour look. “Would you quit being so damn understanding? I’m not finished. I knew I wasn’t crazy. My point is when I was leaving, there was this girl. I think she must be Zyne too. She spoke to me, telepathically. She could hear me as well, so most likely an Oracle, right? She was young, and they had her strapped to a table and were doing all kinds of experiments on her. Her name was Lilly.”
His hands tightened on her. “We have to help her.”
“I tried, but I didn’t have time. I promised her I would come back.”
Corvin peeled away from her and sat up. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t want her to trade one prison for another. I’ve been trying to get back there, to keep my promise.” When he frowned, she held his face in both of her hands and looked him square in the eyes. “I wasn’t running from you. I was running from this place, and I was running to Lilly. I have to help her, Corvin. That’s why I have to get out of here.”
He placed his hand over hers. “Is it so terrible here?”
“No!” She sat up and scrubbed her face. Compared to just about anywhere else she’d lived, this was a Four Seasons. But a gilded cage was still a cage. “I don’t know. I thought so…before.”
“And now?”
Now she didn’t know. She had a way out. She could have left tonight, with Sephrael, but she’d come here instead. Maybe Patricia was right. They had treated her better than any other temporary home she’d ever had. They’d fed her, clothed her, taught her.
Loved me? she wondered, searching Corvin’s dark eyes.
She’d learned how to use her magic, and there may be records of her family hidden somewhere in the archives. Roderic had saved her life. And Corvin…she stroked his cheek covered in stubble, relishing the ridges of scars underneath, painfully aware of every place their bodies touched. Her heart snagged at the memory of what it took to leave him. “Now, I would miss you.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was the best she could offer.
He pulled her hand away. “But you would still leave.”
“I can’t apologize for that.” If only he could understand. He’d lived his whole life behind these walls, safe in his own perfect little world. He had no idea what it was like to have no one to depend on, to have to fight to survive, sometimes barely scraping by. Those instincts didn’t go away just because you had a full belly and a roof over your head. “Haven’t you ever wanted more?”
“I thought I had more,” he said, “and then she ran away.”
Her resolve caved in at that, and she curled into herself, turning away from him. “I never said I would stay.”
“No,” he said, his voice hollow and remote. “It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have trusted someone like you.”
Someone so broken. She had known this would happen. She’d ruined it. And never in all her life had she felt this completely…wrecked.
Her heart heaved in her chest, and then it felt as if it went cold and still. Dead. She tossed her legs off the side of the bed. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just…I wanted to be with you. At least once.”
“Wait.” Corvin’s arm coiled around her waist and he dug his head into her back. “I’m sorry. I can’t control my feelings right now, and I don’t have the strength to shield. Your emotions, my emotions, they are all jumbled up. Don’t go.”
She sniffed back tears. “Why would you want me to stay?”
“Because…” He sighed. “Because you can always come to me. No matter what, I will always be here for you. When this is over, after you’re initiated and reassigned, even after you’ve served your term and are free to leave for good, no matter how long it’s been, you will always have a place to stay, with me. I will never turn you away.”
Stay here, with me.
There it was again. He had to mean it. What he was describing—promising?—sounded an awful lot like having a home.
A small sob choked her as he pulled her into his arms. He rocked and hushed her as she cried, stroking her hair and murmuring nonsensical things. Until she finally fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty
C
orvin slept fitfully, habitually stirring awake to make sure Audrey was still beside him. When he finally fell into a deep sleep, he dreamed of her. One minute she was twirling in the sunlight, her hair fanning out in the wind. The next, she was dangling off a cliff as he tried to hold onto her hand. She looked at him with that same stone-cold expression she’d had when she left him, but a shadow of grief swelled in her eyes. It was an unspoken goodbye. Then, she let go.
“No!” He started awake and sat up to find himself in bed alone. Smoke hopped onto his shoulder and butted his head. He absently scratched at the bird’s neck. His headache was gone, but his muscles were stiff with disuse, and his stomach rumbled loudly.
“What time is it?” he asked, glancing around the windowless room.
Smoke tapped his beak on Corvin’s shoulder three times—nearly sunset. He had just enough time to eat and shower before Audrey had to enter the Hall of Echoes. Guilt churned in his gut. He’d failed her so completely. He hadn’t taught her enough about the Legacy, he hadn’t made her attend classes. He’d been so absorbed in fighting his feelings for her that he hadn’t come through as a mentor. She was not prepared for this.
Non-initiates were not even permitted in the lower chambers of the Arcanum. Under normal circumstances, the hall was a privilege and rite of passage, but it was being forced upon Audrey to try and bring her to heel, with a good chance of backfiring. His mother was breaking precedent by ordering it, and he didn’t trust her motives. It had crossed his mind more than once that she had known Audrey would fail her initiation and he would be forced to give up his post. What if this was her way of scaring Audrey off for good?
You don’t know how strong my wildcat is.
He was counting on that strength. Audrey was right—the council wielded too much power, and they played with fates and lives as if they knew the will of the Cosmos themselves. He believed in protecting the Legacy, but perhaps kidnapping, intimidation, and ultimatums wasn’t the best way to recruit wayward souls. Putting Audrey through a magical trial she was in no way ready for was cruel. He had to hope she didn’t come out the other side of the Hall hating the Synod and everything they stood for even more.
The hall was a potent regression magic shared among the Arcana worldwide. Echoes of Zyne souls were channeled there, and the Zyne accessed them to make connections to past lives and chart a soul’s progression through time. But, like all of the deeper mysteries, it was wild magic, not without inherent dangers. The moments that echoed the strongest were often either the last few or the most traumatic. If one’s shielding wasn’t adequate, they could drown in the pain and sorrow of so many horrific memories.
You endured it.
The memory made him shudder. Stepping over the threshold was like walking into a vortex of memories—some your own, most not. It took skill to decipher them and to know what was real and what was ephemeral. All sense of time was lost there, and it could be agonizing. Usually, only initiates of a high degree of magic chose to enter. Even if she was a tenth-degree witch, Audrey was years behind in training.
As he got ready, he tried to convince himself that his mother wouldn’t have assigned Audrey to the hall if she were not somehow confident in her safety. It was obvious she knew how much Audrey had come to mean to him. His happiness had never been her priority—the Legacy, her duty, and her agenda came first—but he had to believe she would not do anything as unforgiveable as irreparably damaging the woman he loved.
He loved Audrey.
He’d been devastated by her betrayal, cursing himself for twelve kinds of idiocy and wrestling with his inadequacy and failure. And then she had come to him last night, confided in him. He’d barely been able to decipher his anguish from hers, but her remorse was very real and very strong. Once he’d felt that, how could he not forgive her?
She’d trusted him at last, given him her confidence. Now, he finally understood the reason for her fight. She wasn’t just rebellious and obstinate—she had a noble cause. That more than anything had given him hope that there was a future for them. Audrey hadn’t been damaged by her past; she had been forged by it. Her ideals. Her independence. Her strength. When she’d finally taken off her armor and let him hold her, he’d fallen hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly shoved Cian down the marble stairway.
“Sorry. So sorry, Cian,” he said, bowing his head to his old teacher. “I should be paying more attention.”
Cian inclined his head. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m sure you have much on your mind. Your mother sent me to find you. They are waiting.” He motioned for Corvin to lead the way, then fell into step beside him.
“Thank you. How is Audrey?”
“She has a very strong will.”
Corvin cracked a smile. That was putting it mildly. “Tell me truthfully, do you think she can handle this?”
Cian folded his hands into the long sleeves of his robe as they passed the first set of giant copper doors into the main antechamber. Altars lined the walls of the dark room, and incense thickened the air. Candlelight flickered over the murals depicting ancient magical battles. His old teacher’s face was grave. “What many do not understand is that the Hall of Echoes is empty. It contains only what we carry into it. Not only our mortal thoughts and feelings, but the marks of Fate upon our soul.”
The doors to the main chamber opened as they approached. Corvin paused a few feet away and turned to Cian. “But I have not prepared her for this, taught her enough about the celestial journey—”
“The only thing required is that the seeker be willing to face their own truth. That cannot be taught.” Cian sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Have faith in her. That is all you can do now.”
Though he wasn’t completely comforted, he nodded and followed Cian into the thirty-foot-high chamber of polished black granite that held the beating heart of the Arcanum. Celestial maps inlaid with precious metals and crystals climbed across the walls, ceiling, and floor. The raised dais in the center shimmered with ethereal light. The walls of the chamber were lined with torches and several more sets of copper doors, which were heavily spelled and warded to protect some of the most dangerous elemental mysteries in existence.
But the tingling sensation in Corvin’s stomach had nothing to do with the power licking at him with every step. As they approached one of those sets of doors, where his mother, Roderic, and the others were standing, his eyes latched onto Audrey.
She stood there, calm and somber, dressed in the formal white robes of a novice. In the torchlight, her hair was burnished gold, her skin softly glowing. Her eyes sparkled like the sea at midday. She was the most bewitching thing he’d ever seen.
Yours, the Fates seemed to whisper on a passing current of air.
Confusion crinkled Audrey’s brow as he strode toward her, instinct burning through his muscles. Before she could open her mouth to protest, he swept her into his arms and sealed her lips in a charged kiss. She blinked at him in a daze when he pulled back, her eyes wide and searching. He kissed her again, this time putting everything into it he couldn’t say in words. She gasped as he let his power loose, stroking down her body with heat and desire, and finally wrapping her in a blanket of safety, security… and love.
Tears glittered in the corners of her eyes.
Satisfied his message had been received, he laced their fingers together and turned to face the others. Cian and Roderic wore matching smiles, while his mother studied them with her usual stern expression of ceremony. He squeezed Audrey’s fingers in reassurance before he let go so she could kneel and receive the traditional blessing.
His mother anointed Audrey’s brow with oils of agrimony and angelica for protection on her journey. She placed her hands on Audrey’s shoulders and whispered a prayer for clarity, wisdom, and the safe passage and return of her soul. With her eyes closed, Audrey tilted her head back to balance the piece of amber his mother placed on her forehead.
Magic
tingled up his spine, charging the air around them until the hairs on his forearms stood on end. His tie to the Conduit strengthened, anchoring him to this place, where he’d been born and spent his whole life, and to the souls surrounding him—people he loved—like invisible tethers.
Power filled his mother’s voice as she finished her spell. “As I have willed it, so let it be done.”
Patricia removed the stone, and Audrey opened her eyes and immediately looked to him, a flash of uncertainty showing behind her calm façade. He filled his eyes with silent reassurance that she was safe. He helped Audrey to her feet and kissed her on both cheeks in formal blessing, then took her hand as Cian and Roderic pulled the giant doors open.
Absolute darkness yawned on the other side until they removed the closest torches and dipped them just inside the doorway. Two rows of torches jumped to life, and the darkness pulled back like tendrils of smoke being sucked into a vacuum, condensing into the shape of another doorway at the far end of the hall. The threshold between the outer chamber and the hall glowed with pulsing runes as the passage between them fused. The ground beneath their feet shook, and an unearthly wind swept through the chamber, making the torches sputter.
Audrey gasped beside him, and he squeezed her limp fingers. He did not want to let go. Cian had said the only thing to fear in the hall was what you took with you. He knew Audrey had seen and experienced many horrors she had yet to share with him—and that was only from this one life. He wished he could protect her from what she was about to experience.
Have faith in her.
He did. Audrey was strong. A survivor. But no one ever came out of the Hall of Echoes unchanged. Would the experience turn her toward or away from the Zyne path? He hoped his mother knew the answer. There were so many deep and wondrous mysteries beyond what Audrey had been exposed to so far. He wanted to share them with her, to witness her discovery of who she was. If she would walk down that path with him, he would spend the rest of their life together proving she had made the right choice.
To Tame A Wild Heart: A Zyne Witch Urban Fantasy Romance (Zyne Legacy Romance Book 1) Page 18