Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 5

The next week of traveling dragged on. Their party passed through Bridgewood and entered the Oakwryn Forest, keeping to the well-traveled roads. They never stopped in any of the small towns or villages they passed by, only sending in a couple of guards if they needed to purchase any supplies. Kindra would have loved to have an actual bed in an inn to sleep on instead of her bedroll, but Jasper had explained to her it would only add more time to their journey, and they wanted to return to Wendrith as quickly as possible.

Kindra did her best to kill the time by sleeping through the day. But her sleep was filled with nightmares of Harthwin being raided and destroyed in her absence, and she often jerked awake in a panic, fire already sparking in her hands.

The first few times this happened, Jasper looked at her with concern but stayed silent. The fourth time it happened, he asked her if she was all right, to which he got nothing but a curled lip in response.

They had not spoken since the day of her panic attack. Kindra was determined to keep it that way, and Jasper seemed content to let her continue ignoring him. Every day, when they stopped for meals or to set up camp for the night, they gave her space to go expel her magic, just as he had promised. Jasper hadn’t come up to her since the first time, but she always felt him watching her. She did her best to ignore it.

The fifth time she jolted awake from a nightmare, however, was different.

It hadn’t been the usual terror. This time, it had been images of her marrying Jasper, her wedding dress hiding the chains wrapped around her. Locked in a bedroom, unable to use her magic. Trapped in bed, heavily pregnant, being pulled every which way by half a dozen other children. Wasting away, a husk of the person she’d once been.

When she erupted from her sleep this time, the first thing she saw was Jasper’s face, which did not soothe her in the slightest. She scrambled back against the carriage wall, her chest heaving as she tried to root herself back into reality. Jasper’s eyes went wide with worry. “Woah, Kindra, it’s okay. It was just a dream. You’re here.”

That’s the problem , she wanted to scream. But she focused on her breathing, begrudgingly using the trick he’d taught her because it worked and in that moment she hated the frightened, wild way she felt more than she hated him.

He watched her carefully as she calmed herself. When her breathing steadied, she began to turn away from him, embarrassed that he’d seen her in such a panicked state. Again.

“What was the nightmare about?” he asked, his voice taking on that same soft tone he’d used when he’d calmed her down the first time. “If you don’t mind telling me,” he added.

Kindra debated ignoring him. But she could feel his eyes on her, unwavering, and sighed in resignation, turning back to face him. “It was about marrying you.”

He covered up the glimmer of hurt that crossed his face so quickly Kindra almost thought she’d imagined it. “Are they all about that?”

She looked away. “No,” she responded, “just that one.”

Silence stretched between them for a few moments. Kindra prayed the conversation was over. But then—

“I’m sorry I threatened to kill your mother.”

It took her by such surprise she actually laughed, her head swiveling back to him. “What?”

“It was cruel, and I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

“But you would have done it, wouldn’t you?”

Now it was his turn to be surprised. “Wh—”

“You can apologize and feel guilty for it all you want,” she cut him off, “but you would have done it, right? If I’d continued to say no. If I’d run, you would have killed her.”

“I don’t—” he started, then stopped. She could see him gathering his thoughts. He started again, “I knew I wouldn’t have to. It was a… it was a ca lculated move. To make sure nobody ended up getting hurt. But it was still cruel, and I am sorry for it.”

“But you would have killed her,” Kindra repeated, voice blunt. “If your calculated move hadn’t worked, you wouldn’t have let me call your bluff. You would have killed her, right in front of me.” She shook her head. “Sorry, my ass.”

Jasper clenched his jaw, frustration steeling his gray eyes. “I don’t know if I would have killed her. I didn’t want to, I know that. Not all of the Annalindis family gets off on unnecessary violence,” he finished, rather pathetically.

“Yes, the man who threatened to kill somebody’s mother because she told him no is actually a pacifist!” she scoffed. “Give me a fucking break.”

“Look, I’m trying here, okay?” He splayed his hands before him imploringly. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life married to somebody who hates me. I’m sorry , Kindra.”

“If you didn’t want to spend your life married to someone who hates you, you should have left me alone ,” she hissed, fire beginning to brew within her.

“I honestly don’t even know why you wanted to stay there so badly; everybody was so damn afraid of you—”

Kindra jerked back as if he’d slapped her in the face. “How dare you.” She reached past him and yanked on the rope to get them to stop the carriage. “You don’t know anything about me or my life. How would you know how they felt about me?”

The carriage began to slow, and she moved to the door, opening it and jumping out before they’d even come to a complete stop.

“I know because it was one of the villagers who wrote to us about you!”

Kindra froze. “What?”

Jasper scrambled out of the carriage after her. Heinrich dismounted from his horse and hurried over, looking alarmed, but halted when Jasper held up a hand. “That was how we heard about you. Didn’t you think it was weird how we found out about you; some Firefury tucked away by the Pryllian border?”

“You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not, I swear. I have the letter; I could show you it right now—”

“Then do it.” She spun to face him. “Show it to me.”

He hesitated, then nodded, gesturing at Heinrich. The Wavebreaker went to his horse and pulled out an envelope from the saddlebag and came over and handed it to her.

She pulled the letter out, and when she read the first sentence and the name of the sender, her world started to spin.

To the Council of Alverin,,

My name is Elric Afayn. I am an Earthwarden from the humble village of Harthwin, near the Pryllian border. I am writing to let you know of a potential marriage candidate for His Highness Prince Jasper Annalindis. Her name is Kindra Bedelyn, and she is a Firefury of extraordinary power.

For the past decade, she has used her magic to defend our home. She has killed, bled, and burned for her people, who, I regret to say, have shown her almost no kindness in return. She is excluded, avoided, and feared, though she has only ever aimed to protect us. She has never hurt a soul in Harthwin, but you wouldn’t know it from the way my fellow villagers behave.

On and on the letter went. Elric outlined all her history: how she’d taught herself, the various enemies she’d gone up against, the way she’d been treated. She’d never had any inkling that he’d known all of this. She hadn’t even thought he’d been paying that much attention.

She is a stubborn, hot-headed girl, as most Firefuries are, the letter concluded. Her pride will never allow her to admit that she is angered and hurt by their behavior. And as much as I appreciate what she does for us and fear what might occur in her absence, I cannot stand by and allow her to die for this town. So I am writing to you, in hopes that you will see this and consider her for a Royal marriage. She is meant for much greater things than a life fighting for people who can’t even say thank you. She possesses a great, mighty gift, and I believe that she could be powerful enough to break the curse.

For the glory of Alverin,

Elric Afayn

“I don’t—I don’t understand,” she whimpered when she finished, dropping the letter on the ground. “He—why would he do this?”

“Because he cares about you. Because he saw the writing on the wall. Because he didn’t want your mother to have to send out a search party to find your body when one of your altercations went wrong.” Jasper stepped forward and reached out to her. “It was only a matter of time, Kindra. Even you had to have known that. He was trying to do what was best for you.”

She jolted away from him. “He didn’t know what was best for me,” she spat, and was disgusted to find she was crying. “None of you know what is best for me. I was happy—”

“Were you? Were you really?” Jasper’s voice was tight with exasperation, rising into a yell. “Tell me truthfully, did it really fill you with joy to have all of your friends shun you? Did it warm your heart to have people unable to look at you, unwilling to fucking thank you for saving their lives ? Did you enjoy being seen as the town pariah, the local freak?” Each word landed like a physical blow.

She was crying in earnest now, body shaking with sobs, the fire in her sputtering out. She didn’t know if she was sad or angry or shocked or some kind of combination of all three. But she did know one thing, and it killed her, felt so sick and oily to admit:

Jasper was right.

She hadn’t been happy. She was angry and hurt and bitter; she’d spent most of her life swallowing those feelings down. And she hated him for pointing it out, for being so brutally honest.

“Your life with me in Wendrith will make you happier than you could ever imagine, happier than you could have ever been in Harthwin,” he insisted. “I know it will.”

And just like that, the blind arrogance in his voice reminded Kindra of just exactly who Jasper was: a prince—an Annalindis—who had never known sacrifice or hardship in his entire life, with the audacity to act as if he knew her at all. Her shock and grief faded into the background as her fury surged forward.

“You are unbelievable,” she hissed. “Of course you think you know because you think you know everything . But you don’t. You don’t know a damn thing about me. I don’t care that they were all afraid of me, Jasper. It was my choice to protect them, and I made that choice every day knowing how they’d react. It was my choice , which is what you are incapable of wrapping your head around! You think you’re so smart, but you can’t understand why taking away my right to choose anything about my life anymore makes me fucking angry !” She stalked over to him, halting a mere foot away, and snarled, seething, “You want to know why I have nightmares about marrying you? Because I hate you , Jasper. I hate you for what you stand for and for what you have taken from me and for the fact that you think you’re my savior because of it.”

Jasper’s face fell. “Right,” he sighed, stepping back. “Of course. Of course you do.” He gave her one final, pleading look. “Well, hate me all you want. I guess I’ll just have to get used to it.” Then he was gone, storming away.

Kindra stood there, feeling more unmoored and defeated than she ever had. It all made sense now: the dagger Elric gave her, the last conversation they had, the farewell from the carriage. He’d known. He’d set it up .

The one person left in town who’d ever shown her kindness besides her mother had been the catalyst for her worst nightmare.

She grabbed the letter from the ground but couldn’t bring herself to burn it. Instead, she crushed the pages in her fist and climbed back into the carriage. As she did, she noticed Jasper mounting a horse. He didn’t look at her.

For the next three days, he rode on horseback next to Heinrich. He did not speak to her. He hardly glanced in her direction.

Kindra stayed in the carriage and felt terribly, terribly alone.