Chapter 23 - Ember

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Wednesday and Alistair Mortelle spent most of the day locked in the study downstairs arguing, bargaining and bickering. All the while, the rest of us crept around the house – alternating between checking on Halia, keeping an eye on Victoria and doing absolutely nothing. We couldn't even read up on naiad folklore to try to help Halia, as all of Alistair's mythology books were in his study, which was otherwise occupied.

I managed to convince Theo to let me see Victoria. Her external wounds were caught between stages of healing, as the wolfsbane that we kept flowing through her veins stopped her from healing entirely.

There were claw marks across one of her arms, ugly-looking arrow wounds in her shoulder blade and thigh, and a cut across her cheekbone that stretched from her nose to her ear. Yet her worst injury was hidden from sight.

"And why can't we ask her about anything?" I poked at Theo, though kept my words tentative at the sight of his unreadable face.

In three forceful strides, Theo was standing beside Victoria – as if he'd already expected I'd ask that question. He took a hold of her chin and eased her mouth open to let her jaw hang freely.

"Because she can't reply."

Swallowing my rising fear, I stepped closer to see a bloody stub of tongue resting in Victoria's mouth. Dried blood cracked open to allow a fresh trickle of crimson to gush forwards. Victoria's tongue had been brutally cut out.

Nausea shot from the pit of my stomach to the back of my throat as I stumbled backwards.

"Did Alistair...?" Words failed me, so I raised my eyes to meet Theo's.

"Yeah. He wanted revenge against Victoria because her family murdered his wife, Wednesday's mom."

"Oh my God." Unable to process it all, I sunk down onto the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees.

Theo's arms were circling me in an instant. Though I barely felt him holding me close as my mind raced with questions; when will all this end?

When would all this revenge-driven brutality stop? We couldn't go on living like this forever, could we? Are there no supernaturals who are able to live a fairly peaceful life? And it wasn't as if all this was a result of Killian – he just seemed to inspire the hate and the violence that resides in every one of us.

Desolation washed over me and entombed me in my endless questions.

When I came to, I wouldn't have been surprised if my palms were on fire. They weren't, even though I badly wanted to burn something.

"I'll stay by your side," Theo told me, holding me tightly, "No matter what happens."

"Thank you," I mumbled and turned to hug him back – wrapping my arms around his shoulders and burying my face in his neck, instantly comforted by his familiar smell.

Theo's ears perked up and his eyes left my face to search the empty space. "C'mon, Wednesday and her dad have finally stopped arguing. Victoria will be fine left on her own for a few minutes; I'll keep an ear out for her. Besides, she's not going anywhere any time soon in that state."

"Okay."

It was early afternoon by then, and the sunlight that filtered in through the landing window was a fierce gold. I blinked into it, feeling my face warm even through the window. Nearly all the orange leaves had fallen by now, carpeting the forest floor with a crunchy top layer. The changing of the seasons was almost at its end, and so I was savouring every second of brilliant sunshine that greeted me.

"Your Phoenix is like that colour, but a thousand times more beautiful." Theo smiled at me gently and held my hand in his as we stepped downstairs.

~

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