Page 169 of Heir of Broken Souls

I’m unsure of what to say. My mouth opens and closes until I finally settle on, “How did it feel?”

His chest heaves. “Like they were alive again, like I could step through that cave and hug them.” He chokes on his last words. “I miss them,” he admits softly.

Tears spring into my eyes at his pain. I kiss his cheek, unable to stop myself, as the unconditional love for him rises and needs an outlet. “Oh, Knox,” I murmur.

There’s nothing else to say, no comforting words to give. Just a sense of understanding as it hums between us. Between two people who have lost the ones they love the most.

I’m not going to say that they are always watching because we don’t know that. We don’t know what the other side is like for our kind and we never will until we die. So no, I do not comfort him with empty words and by the way his gaze remains on mine with a deep emotion swelling—love—I know I made the right decision to just sit and bask in the grief as he treads through it.

To just be his life raft in the endless sadness.

He takes a steadying breath, the mist covering his eyes clearing before he nods. Taking his lead, I blink rapidly as I come into the presence of my body.

Clearing his throat, Knox slides a hand along my lower back, holding onto me like his lifeline. Everyone’s eyes grow hazy, the only warning I get before my mind is bombarded with all that Knox was shown.

His parents—the sight takes my breath away.

I never saw any paintings in Knox’s estate of them. I wonder if it was out of pain—the memories far too tender, the reminder of his loss suffocating—but they are gorgeous and glorious. A strong pair, a beautiful couple, and the love shining in their eyes for one another is entirely clear to see.

Gods, Knox wasn’t wrong though. For any of it.

The throne rooms, the many tailored to a dedicated element. The meetings we see the king and queen present in. Only one thing comes to mind.

A governing city.

“Knox,” Lenox says softly.

The pain radiating off him matches that of his king—and chosen brother. Knox’s parents were as much Lenox’s. It’s obvious how much it hurts him to watch too.

“We were right, ancient magic is at play,” Knox says. “I believe the essence and memory of the cave has been erased from the minds of those that have ever entered the cave or even heard of it.”

Harlow frowns. “How is that possible? The magic needed to cast such a spell?—”

“Dark magic,” Knox practically spits the words. “That’s how.”

“What is it, exactly? Why would they want to wipe everyone’s memories?” I have a thousand more questions brimming on the edge of my tongue, but this one seems the most fitting. I have my own theory, but I need to hear it from him too.

He swallows thickly. “From what I gathered, this is where the governing royals congregated to discuss matters of the continent.”

My frown snaps into place. “Why would that have to be erased from their minds?”

“Something tells me we’re about to find out.”

Axel rubs the back of his neck. “How long ago do you think it was erased?”

Knox grimaces. “Gods, I have no idea when?—”

A scream ripples up my throat, bursting between my lips as my dragon pommel sword flies from my back. It lands at my feet with a loud clang, the metal striking the floor.

We fall silent, tense. Knox’s body stiffens, and he slowly unsheathes his blade.

“Has that ever happened before?” he asks dangerously.

Although I suspect he already knows the answer, I whisper, “No.”

The word snaps everyone into fierce focus, our questions forgotten. Despite the tiredness leaking from us all, it evaporates within moments. Axel takes up a protective stance in front of Elysia, suddenly adorned with two long blades while Harlow’s flames dance along her shoulders and her hands shift into sharp talons. Lenox bends low, ready to pounce.

“Demonic hounds?” Axel asks carefully.