“He knows what you are, who you are. That’s all I know,” Thana replied.
“How? Did you tell him?”
“Oh, no, I didn’t. I would never. I swear,” Thana said, shaking her head.
“Then how…” She trailed off, suddenly hyperventilating. Her eyes darted to me before she took off at a sprint back the way we came, clutching her side.
“Ara!” I rushed after her.
“No. No. No,” she repeated as she ran down the hall, leaving a trail of dripped blood behind her.
“Ara, wait! What is it?”
Alden was entering the library just as we were. Ara collided chest to chest with him, gripping his arms frantically.
“Can other people see the letters once the intended person has found them?”
My heart dropped.
“Yes, why? What…” Alden asked, his face falling.
“We need to send a letter right now,” she urged, pulling his arm, and they rushed to the fireplace. Alden handed her a piece of paper and a quill. She quickly dropped to the table, scribbling a note before handing it to Alden.
He folded it, lit the fire, and tossed it in. We waited anxiously, my heart thundering, begging, praying that it would light and burn. But it didn’t. It remained untouched. After an agonizingly long minute, the fire went out, leaving nothing but the note.
Alden and I shared a pained look.
“What does that mean?” she asked, her voice strained as she looked from Alden to me and back. When we didn’t respond, she screamed, “What does it mean?”
“The receiver… cannot receive it. There is no safe space, because… they are no longer…” he hesitated, his face scrunching. “Here. Alive.”
She froze, staring at him in shock, and dropped her gaze to the floor, shaking her head.
“No, that’s not true,” she said, shaking her head more violently. “No.”
“Ara,” I said, stepping towards her.
“No!” She jerked out of my grasp. “Try again,” she demanded, turning to Alden. He looked at me. I nodded and they tried again, but we both knew it wouldn’t change. There was only ever one reason a letter wouldn’t send through the flames.
When the letter didn’t burn, she released an agonizing scream that struck me straight in the chest, collapsing in on herself and crumpling to the ground. I lunged, catching her before she hit the ground, and pulled her into my lap. She gripped my shirt with both hands, screaming as her body wracked with sobs again.
“It’s my fault. I killed her. I killed my mother,” she wailed into my chest.
I brought my hand to the back of her head, cradling her against me.
“No, you didn’t. Evander did,” I replied and she sobbed harder. I inhaled sharply, my heart shattering for her, wishing I could take the pain for her. I understood this feeling all too well, and I would not let her live with that kind of weight on her shoulders. “This is not your fault.”
“I sent her a letter. I laid it out plainly. If Thana wasn’t the one to tell him, that is the only other way he would have found out. He found the letterIsent.”
“Even if he did find it, it still wouldn’t be your fault. Finding out that you are part Fae, or that she loved one, is not an excuse for murder. It was his own cowardice.Hiscowardice. You didn’t decide her fate. He did. The fault is his and his alone. Do you understand me? You cannot blame yourself for simply existing.”
“I hate him,” she whispered, weeping as she buried into my chest.
I tightened my hold on her.
We sat this way for hours while she cried. When there were no tears left, she remained firmly pressed into me, hiccuping from the force of her cries until she eventually fell asleep in my arms. I gently lifted her, carrying her to my chambers, and laid her on the bed.
Grabbing the healing salve from my nightstand, I carefully rubbed it into her wound before I crawled in behind her and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her back into my chest.