Rogue stiffened. “He dragged you along? For what?”
“He claimed it was the only way to keep us safe.”
He scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. That war was brutal. It is something I will never forget and certainly no place for a teenager.”
“I won’t ever forget it either… The smell of blood. The sounds,” I swallowed hard at the memory, clenching my eyes shut. “I will never forget.”
And I won’t. For as long as I live. That I know.
“It still haunts me too,” he said, barely louder than a whisper.
It should bother me that Rogue probably killed hundreds, maybe thousands, of human soldiers. It should… And yet, I can’t help but question whether Auryna was ultimately responsible for the slaughter. If the Fae were ever really the aggressors at all.
But I couldn’t bring myself to ask.
So I said nothing at all.
“But I don’t understand why he would think you would be safer with him,” he continued. “By definition, the battlefield would be more dangerous than a guarded estate.”
“I don’t know, honestly,” I replied. It wasn’t something I typically thought about, much less talked about with anyone. “I guess it doesn’t really make much sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. If anything, he put youmorein harm’s way.”
“Yeah, that’s how it felt too. We didn’t stay with him during battle, but he would place us in the nurses’ tent. That’s essentially where I spent those ten years. Seeing every wounded and dying soldier brought in… It’s where I first saw the effects of Fae magic.” I glanced up at him and he was listening intently, his dark eyes glued to me.
“It was gruesome. I remember vowing to myself that I would never return to the border, never set foot in Ravaryn, never see another Fae again.” I chuckled, dropping my eyes. “How ironic.”
“Looking back, my mother was never afraid. Not really—just concerned, worried, tense. She always assisted the nurses while I did the small things, like fetching water or supplies, helping where I could. She was never shaken by anything she saw, unlike me.”
“You were a teenager, Ara. I would be more concerned if you weren’t.”
“It-It’s followed me. It always comes back when I’m reminded. The sound of an army or the overwhelming smell of blood—it always thrusts me back. It’s like I’m back there. My heart races, sometimes I can’t breathe, can’t focus.” I closed my eyes, placing a hand on my chest. “The only thing that brings me back is the technique my mother taught me. She always told me to focus on three things that I could actually see, hear, or feel that remind me of calm. Anything steady, peaceful… undisturbed.”
He released a breathy laugh and I whipped my head to him, my cheeks flushing.
“No, it’s not you. That technique… ‘Things that remind you of calm.’ Those are Alden’s words exactly. He calls it grounding, the act of bringing our head and soul back to the soil beneath us and rooting ourselves in the world that we are actually in. Not the one that torments us.”
My lips parted as my eyes stung.Of course.
The only reason I could imagine Alden telling her that was to get her through the death of Vaelor as he helped her escape. Even while he was grieving the loss of his only child, he managed to help my mother.
My breath left me in a whoosh, choked and suffocating, as the hole in my chest reopened.
The overwhelming ache that returned every time I remembered she was gone.
I brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, as I closed in on myself, trying to remember how to breathe. How anyone could get through this, I didn’t know. It was all too much. The never-ending sea of grief that tormented me constantly, threatening to drown me every time I was reminded of my mother. Of her past. Of the father I never got to know. Of the one that did raise me.
It was torturous—discovering bits and pieces of myself as they revealed themselves in the most agonizing ways.
I scrunched my eyes, dropping my face to my knees, and vaguely heard Rogue stand and step towards me. He knelt in front of me, softly placing a hand on each shin.
“Things that remind you of calm,” he whispered, and I sucked in a shaky breath.
Calm.
The warmth of the fire.
The pain was deafening and I squeezed my legs tighter.