Page 16 of Ignite
The Undine we’ve yet to meet shifts closer to Willow, his arm resting on her lower back as he says in a low hum, “She’ll be okay. She’s strong.”
The way they speak about her… Willow and this fae beside her know Brielle—just as Brielle knew Daimon. I see the same haunted look in Willow’s eyes.
“Do you know her?” My voice startles them—slicing through the silence.
Willow’s mouth turns up, the smile not reaching her tear-lined eyes. “In another life, I knew her very well,” she whispers.Her face shifts, the eyes of an assessing warrior taking over as she meets my gaze. “Who are you?”
Her gaze scans over all of us as she asks—the question not entirely unfriendly, but still holding a hint of a warning.
“Leda Manor,” Leda says strongly, causing Willow and the Undine’s eyes to widen slightly. Leda nods her head to me and says, “Lunaria Manor.”
The two warriors turn to me, a question in their eyes.
“Calix, Orla, Maddox, and Sidra are all in Brielle and Lunaria’s fleet,” Leda continues. Her jaw flexes as she adds, “And you?”
Willow’s gaze flickers toward the empty space where Brielle and Maddox disappeared. “I’m Willow, and this is my bonded, Aster,” she answers, not seeming to mind Leda’s brashness. Aster’s chin lifts a fraction, silent and steady.
Something changes in Leda’s face, her cool mask slipping away at the names. She sucks in a sharp breath as she blinks rapidly at each of them, gaze swinging from one to the other.
“Willow and Aster?” Leda breathes. “Of the commander’s fleet?”
They both nod, a glint of pride shimmering in their eyes. I watch them closely, trying to piece together what’s going through Leda’s mind.
“Leda?” I ask, my patience wearing thin as exhaustion presses against my shoulders.
My sister tenses, snapping out of whatever haze she was in, her piercing gaze meeting mine. “Our mother knew them—I grew up on stories of her time riding with them during the war,” Leda breathes.
I swallow, a pinch of jealousy tugging at my stomach. Not of Leda, but of the life Reichardt robbed me of.
“And you two,” Willow says with a softening smile—the mask of the warrior in her gaze thawing. “Are the queen’s daughters.”
Leda and I glance at each other, but ultimately Leda nods.
Willow steps forward until she’s an arm’s length away fromLeda and me, lowering her voice though the others are still well within hearing range.
“When I knew your mother, I could see Eurydice’s light within her,” Willow says gently. “Her magic of light was unlike anything I had seen. It was invaluable in the war—on more than one occasion. We likely all would’ve lost our lives had it not been for her.”
I swallow, unable to speak as emotions claw at my throat. I wish I could’ve seen that side of our mother—could’ve grown up hearing the stories of her heroics.
“We know of the prophecy.” Willow’s gaze slides to Leda, and my sister shifts beside me. “If anyone is gifted by Eurydice, it’s the one they say has the mark of her gift in light—of the one born the night before it revealed itself.”
A memory surfaces at Willow’s words, of Leda trying to train me and telling me about how this vague prophecy points to her being the realm’s savior.
Until now, I hadn’t understood what caused Leda to seem so uncomfortable at the idea of it. But seeing the hope in Willow’s face—that she truly believes Leda is her savior—makes me understand.
Leda stays quiet, so Willow pushes on.
“It is for those reasons that I’m allowing you to enter my home,” she continues, voice sharpening. “This place—it is not one others beyond here know about. If you stay here, you’re agreeing to keep this place and everything you see here a secret.”
I nod, seeing Leda do the same out of the corner of my eye.
“What you do is of no concern to us as long as it does not endanger our people,” Leda says with finality.
Willow raises a brow. “We’ll see about that.”
I glance at Leda, curious as to why she didn’t press harder about Willow’s secrecy. But Leda trusts her—based on a past life she heard about from our mother.Let’s just hope the person Leda heard stories about then is the same person Willow is today.
“Great,” a gruff voice says from behind my friends.
