45. Danica

Danica

45

R efueled and refreshed from lunch, we congregate once more in the heart of Oberon's domain after turning the Sun Court's courtyards into our personal racetrack. His vast chambers, echoing with the whispers of countless secrets, welcome us back like the stage awaiting the pivotal second act of a grand play.

I unroll the worn map carefully, its edges softened and frayed by time and touch. A complex network of routes to theCrystal Peakssprawls before us like the veins of a fated quest, a tangled web of destiny waiting to be unraveled. We huddle around the sacred parchment as if it's a mysterious relic that could inspire avid treasure hunters—and give Indiana Jones himself a moment of awe-struck pause.

King Oberon leans over the map with a knowing glimmer in his eye, his expression as sage as a wizened old oak. "This artifact possesses enchanting properties," he intones, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken history. "It is imbued with magic."

The statement hangs densely in the air, pregnant with possibilities and secrets. My forehead creases lightly as I try to decipher his meaning, my mind racing with questions and theories. "Magical abilities?" I ask, my tone mingling with skepticism and curiosity.

Oberon's fingers hover above the map, and with a single tap near the ominousCrystal Peaks, the flat expanse suddenly springs to life. It's like watching a magical pop-up book unfold before our eyes, trails stretching upwards and mountains ascending from the parchment-like miniature giants. Valleys dip into palpable depressions, creating a landscape that looks almost real enough to touch.

Our mouths agape, we watch as a mini-world rises from the table as some sort of Hogwarts homework assignment comes to life. It's a sight that leaves us speechless, more gobsmacked than a gaggle of geese in a glitter factory.

I reach out tentatively, half-expecting my hand to pass right through the illusory terrain. But to my surprise, my fingers meet resistance, and the peaks and valleys feel as solid as the real thing. It's like holding a piece of the world in the palm of my hand, a tangible reminder of the quest that lies ahead.

"This is incredible," I breathe, my voice hushed with wonder. "I've never seen anything like it."

Rhylandleans in closer, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he studies the map. "It's a marvel of magic," he murmurs, his tone equal parts admiration and wariness. "But what does it mean for our journey?"

Oberon smiles enigmatically, his expression inscrutable. "The map will guide you," he says simply, "if you know how to read it."

Luciansnorts, "Great, another riddle," he mutters, rolling his eyes. "Just what we need."

ButErikis already studying the map intently; his brow furrows in concentration. "There are hidden paths here," he says slowly, tracing a finger along a barely visible trail. "Routes that could take us through the mountains unseen."

Out of nowhere, a voice cuts through the hushed silence, narrating lore that feels like skipping history classes. It weaves a narrative around the floating landscape, and we're all ears, caught in the story's spell, hanging on every word.

When the voice trails off, my gaze swings to Oberon, my mind dazed and reeling. My face must be a canvas of shock, eyebrows high and eyes wide as saucers because, really, who saw that coming?

"The map bestows understanding of each depicted region," Oberon explains calmly. "Through this magic, we've gleaned knowledge of such a perilous area and the grim fate of those who journeyed there—for none have lived to tell the tale."

Lucianarches an eyebrow, watching the map with a smirk. "Well, that's one way to show off your Google Earth skills, Your Majesty," he quips. "Any chance of a mini-dragon popping up for the full theme park experience?"

"Sure,Lucian, dragons hibernating under the 'Here Be Dragons' sign," I say sarcastically. "And if we're really lucky, His Majesty will throw in a souvenir photo op."

"Well, aren't you sharp today, Princess? I might need to check your pulse—that deadpan delivery is inhuman,"Luciantosses back, unabashed mirth dancing in his eyes. "But you can keep the tacky photo—I prefer my memories non-tacky, and the only shop I want to visit is the one that serves decent Bloody Marys."

I giveLuciana quick eye roll. "You and your damn mouth," I mutter with mock annoyance.

Shaking my head, I return to the now flattened map. It's time to study it—maps,stones, realms to save.

The journey stretches through theWhispering Woods, pastMirror Lake, skirting theShardfall Cascadebefore ascending the peaks. It's a route as daunting as it is beautiful, a testament to the wild and untamed nature of the realm we're about to enter.

Erikleans in, his silver eyes scanning the terrain with hawk-like intensity. "We should take the Northern Pass through Eldergrove Forest," he suggests, nodding toward a densely shaded area.

Lucianscoffs lightly. "Oh, sure, more trees than a squirrel convention. What could possibly go wrong?"

"What, you prefer an open field for your tan?" I shoot back sarcastically.

He grins wickedly. "Babe, I'm already golden," he purrs, leaning over the map to point to a narrow strip of land. "Right through here. Fool's Pass. Only an idiot would take that route."

"Or someone with nothing to lose," I quip.

Rhylandchuckles, his hand finding the small of my back. "I think we'll keep our wits about us and take theSpectre ValesaroundFrost Weaver Hallows."

Faderyntraces a different route. "The path throughSilvergladeValley is more direct," he suggests. "Though not without its own risks."

Axilyanods thoughtfully. "The Lynx Eyes coven watches overSilverglade. They are not fond of trespassers."

"Witches? Here?" I blurt out, my eyes widening with shock and curiosity.

Erik's gaze doesn't waver from the map. "Witchesare everywhere, Little Huntress. We can handle a fewwitches."

Luciansnorts, his eyebrows raised in a look of mock horror. "Speak for yourself, Sir Broods-a-Lot," he quips. "I'd rather not have my handsome face cursed off by some disgruntled hag with a wart collection."

"You're assuming they'd find anything worth cursing," I tease, lips twitching.

He winks at me. "You wound me, Princess. And here I thought you appreciated my rugged good looks and charming wit."

Rhylandgrunts disapprovingly but can't hide his smirk. His protective arm tightens around me slightly. "We'll take TheSpectre Vales—it avoids confrontations and keeps us out of sight."

"And here I was, looking forward to getting hexed," I say dryly.

"Your disappointment is palpable,"Faderynremarks with a soft smile. "We should prepare provisions and gear," he suggests.

I silently agree, excitement thrumming through my veins at the thought of action.

The king and queen exchange a look before turning back. "We cannot accompany you," Oberon announces solemnly.

"We understand,"Rhylandreplies with a respectful nod.

"Your Majesty," I ask, curiosity heavy in my voice. "Why entrust me with this map when others braving the Peaks didn't get the honor?"

Oberon nods slowly. "Because I trust you, Lady Danica, will defy expectation and return with it," he states, his voice laced with confidence.

Queen Titania steps forward. "May your bonds remain strong and spirits undeterred."

Axilyastands gracefully. "We depart at dawn on horseback."

I grimace at the thought of more saddle hours. My horseback memories are more bruises than wind-blown freedom.

"Great," I grumble with dry humor. "More medieval pony trekking—my ass is filing a grievance as we speak."

Rhyland moves in close, breath warm against my ear. "I'll take care of that sweet ass, baby," he murmurs with a promise that sends shivers down my spine.

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I try to compose myself. With a cough, I attempt to banish his risqué words, clearing my throat feebly to steer us back to innocence.

I suggest teleporting to save time, but Faderyn quickly dismisses that idea—it's too "dangerous" without pinpoint accuracy.

I nod reluctantly; I haven't mastered popping in and out anyway.

"No shit," Lucian chimes in. "We don't want to end up in some twisted Narnia."

"So through Spectre Vales, up Whispering Woods, left through Frost Weaver Hallows, and hit the Peaks, right?" I ask, tracing my finger along the faded parchment.

Rhyland leans over my shoulder, breath tickling my neck. "That sums it up, Angel—think you can handle some saddle days?"

I wrinkle my nose. "If it means that stone and saving your fine ass, I'll suffer anything."

Rhyland chuckles, that sexy laugh making my knees weak.

Focus, Dani.

Faderyn's posture radiates resolve. "I'll spare no effort to alleviate this odyssey's burdens."

Luciancocks a brow, lips curving into a wry smirk. "Damn, Tinkerbell's getting heroic. Just sprinkle some pixie dust when shit hits."

Axilya's eyes sparkle with sass. "Worry not,Lucian. Faderyn's dust could teach you a lesson or two."

Luciansmirks, unfazed. "Sweet burn,Ax. But let's hope Faderyn's dust packs a punch. My charm can't do all the work."

Erikremains silent, arms crossed.Mr. Stoicisn't for conversation, but I know he has our back if things get dicey.

Rhyland's voice booms, echoing with command. "It's settled then. We leave at first light."

My big, bad alpha is in battle mode, sights set on victory. And me? I'll be right by his side, ready to face any nightmare. It's us against the world.