Their Fireheart

Chapter Thirty Five

Aelin

I didn't speak for the entire journey home. I couldn't. Couldn't form thoughts, let alone words.

It was too much; it was all too much. My gut was a roiling firestorm of rage, fury licking a fiery path up my spine with every step. Wind rushed past my ears, the alleyway pressing in on me, sealing me in just as tightly as those flooded sewer tunnels had years ago.

I might finally be losing it. After everything I'd done, that seemed like the kind of poetic justice I deserved.

But I couldn't afford to. Because even when - for the first time in my life - I chose the noble path, the blows didn't stop. They just kept coming, one after another after another in an endless hailstorm of bullshit. Today was only the latest example.

First there was the revelation of not only what Gavin and Elena had done, how they had lied, but why they had done it, why they had to do it. Then came the news from Morath. Of the Valg legion. The Ironteeth and their mythical fucking Wyverns. And then -

Then I had told my cousin's fucking father about his son's existence.

Something I had sworn, if only to myself, never to do.

If Aedion knew what I was thinking, he'd surely scoff at me. After all, we had discussed the situation at length, had plotted and planned and strategized exactly what we would do in the worst-case scenario. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he would be fully supportive of the actions I'd taken, and still -

I hated it. Hated that I had put him in this position. Hated that our personal autonomy was being thrown to the wolves, all so that we could bite and claw for any potential advantage in this godsdamn war. Hated that now my cousin would have no say in being forced to confront the male who had fathered him; the male who had left him behind.

At the end of the day, I was the one who made that decision. I was the one who took that choice from him.

And I would do it again. All thanks to that bastard of a king and the hellish army he was building in the shadow of Erawan's tomb - Valg, wyverns, witches, and gods knew what other monstrosities.

We needed all the allies we could get. Even if I did supposedly have the brute power of the stars burning in my veins instead of wildfire, I wasn't about to bet the lives of my people on the faint hope that it would be enough.

Lost in my racing thoughts, I missed the concerned looks from my mates at the faint trembling of my hands that I couldn't seem to master. Breathing methodically to calm my racing heart, I had just managed to wrangle my errant emotions under control by the time we reached the apartment.

Aedion, mercifully, was already in bed.

Rowan and Cassian strode right up the stairs towards the rooftop, Rhysand and Azriel only pausing long enough to give me a no-nonsense look before following behind them. I bit back a groan, mentally bracing myself for what I knew was a long-overdue conversation.

Huffing out a breath, I stomped up the stairs after them. The only thing I wanted at this moment was to be curled up under the covers with my mates, but considering all that we had to discuss, I wasn't likely to see my bed until sunrise.

A night-kissed breeze grazed my cheek as I swung open the rooftop door, revealing four imposing figures framed by shimmering moonlight. All four of their expressions were grave, attention focused wholly on me.

"What is this - an intervention?" I quipped half-heartedly.

A terrible joke, I know. But considering the circumstances, it was the best I could do.