Chapter fifty - three - finale part three

**A/N - hey everyone I decided to post today instead of tomorrow! We have two chapters left before book one is finished, if you want to ask any questions or see release dates for book two head over to my instagram page rina.vasq for more information on it.**


Golden hues of the early dawn gloss over the skies as dragons fly outside of my window.

It's the one thing that's given me comfort since the trials last week—a way to ease my mind from that day. I haven't cried, not once, but I've stayed here in one of the rooms of the den, wishing I could.

It's as if crying is what will make what happened real.

And I don't want to believe it was.

I gaze at the sun carving in my hand and the leather fingerless glove Leira had found for me before there's a knock.

I look over my shoulder putting the carving into my pocket and say, "Come in."

At that, the door opens, and the three of my brothers slip inside. My smile is weak as I walk up to Iker. He holds a plate of strawberry pie in his hands, and I take it from him with a light chuckle. "So, you've been the one bringing me the pies to my door this past week."

His brows pinch together, a mixture of puzzled amusement on his face. "Well, I—"

"You haven't left the room since you arrived." Idris's curt words draw my gaze to him by the wall. I hadn't managed to speak with my brothers as much nor tell them of my time at the Barracks. Still, they knew enough by now.

"Or eaten, for that matter," Illias adds, grimacing at my plate. "You love your food."

Well... at least I've eaten the pies set at my door each night. "I've not been hungry," I murmur the truth.

"Why didn't you tell us, Nara?" Idris seems to lose his patience, sighing as he shakes his head at me.

I thought I could fix it on my own.

Now it's foolish to think I could have.

"Idris, we said we weren't going to—"

"No, it's fine." I draw in a breath, holding my hand up to interrupt Illias. I shift my gaze to Idris and say, "I should have been truthful since the beginning. After all, you were right about becoming a Venator. It was never a good idea."

"I don't care about what I once said." A vein pulses at the side of his neck. "I care that my sister has been struggling while I was back at our village, thinking you were out here living your dream."

My head lowers in shame at how far I'd let it all go. "Scold me all you want, Idris—" My words cut off breathlessly as Idris takes a step toward me, wrapping his arms around my neck.

I blink, holding the plate of pie out at the side, as he doesn't let go. It's an embrace that seems as if one is not enough because the thought of losing me is grander than anything else for him.

"I promised, mother, I'd look after you." His voice cracks on the last word, and it's a sound I've never heard come from him. All my life Idris and I clashed because we were too similar. Not once had I seen him cry, not even when his lover perished. He keeps it all in a tight grip against his heart. A protective spell to make the emotions stay at bay.

"I know," I whisper, using my other hand to reach around him. "I'm sorry."

We pull apart, and his blue eyes illuminating in morning light fix on me in hope. "You don't need to apologize."

"Without you," Illias says, and Idris looks over his shoulder at him. "You'd never have found out that shifters aren't all that bad." He chuckles, and the softest brown curls shake along his forehead. "Who would have thought that would be the case."

For the first time this week, a natural smile tugs at my lips as Iker joins in with a mumble, "They've treated us better than our village did, but I still won't forgive Idris for leaving Dimpy with Miss Kiligra."

That breaks the solemn atmosphere as we chuckle, and then the door creaks open with Freya popping her head through. "Oh," she says. "Sorry, I thought you were alone—"

"We were just leaving," Idris goes back to his stern self, and Freya opens the door wider. Her curls skim past the purple tunic she has on as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth with a nod.

I don't miss the strange averting of her eyes as Idris walks past her along with Illias and Iker.

She takes a breath and smiles at me once they all exit the room. Freya was the first I saw as soon as I came here with Darius. She'd grinned with excitement at how they'd freed Adriel and the others.

It broke me to see that smile vanish as I told her of Erion. But her way of grieving differed from mine. She involved herself with others, came by my room each day while I tried to isolate myself from the rest.

Sighing, I ask, "How are you?" *It's always the worst question to ask.*

"Better," she says, taking the plate from my hands and placing it on the bed as she sits on it. "Leira told me more stories of my mother when they were young though it's rather odd, isn't it?"

I quirk my head to the side, sitting beside her. She takes in my questioning silence and glances around the thick wooden walls, a basin in the corner, and a chest of drawers by the door.

"That we've ended up here," she answers.

It's truly ironic, but... "We can't stay here forever."

Her eyes find the bruises on my neck, and she looks away with a painful wince. "I know that," she breathes, running her hands along her thighs. "I actually came here to tell you that Gus informed me he'll be speaking to all of us at noon. He's counting on you to be there."

I nod slowly, but my thoughts go to Darius, wondering if he'll be there. According to Freya, he hadn't left his room either, only Tibith, to check on me as he was still intent on being my second sworn protector.

Breathing out a thoughtful sigh, I place my hand over Freya's, and her gaze snaps at me. "I'll be there," I say, and she smiles.