Chapter 12

Elanor

Another wave of nausea hits me, and my hands go to my stomach as I pinch my eyes shut, waiting for it to pass as I mentally curse Vesta for the hundredth time.

Funny enough, she told me that crossing the Váyan Sea would be quick and easy and that the swaying of the boat would lull me to sleep at night.

I managed to eat a light dinner earlier, mistakenly interpreting this as a sign that my condition was improving, and I’m fully regretting it.

Releasing a breath, I sit up on the cabin’s small bed, aggressively eyeing the dark leather tome partially responsible for my state. After borrowing it from Averion’s library, I tried reading more on the ship, but it only brought the queasiness back, and it now rests on the floorboards.

It’s a collection of ancient tales and myths, and the closest book I’ve found that speaks of the old gods. I closed it when I couldn’t focus on the words anymore, halfway through the part about the origins of magic and dark creatures.

I squeeze my eyes shut once more, taking a deep breath in and out, as waves crash on the other side of the cabin. We’ve been at sea for two days and three nights and should reach the coast tomorrow. Fucking finally.

“Come on, L,” I whisper to myself. “Just one more day to go.”

I can’t wait to get off this stinky boat and feel flat, hard soil beneath my boots.

Sleep has never been a friend of mine, but out here it’s become my enemy. Each sway brings another spiral of fear as I wait for us to get pulled underwater.

Milan, the commander of the Fae soldiers escorting me, tells me there’s nothing alarming about these waves. But there is nothing normal about a wood structure floating in the middle of an immense body of water.

Seth and Gavriel, two of the guards also accompanying me, outright joke about my discomfort, but I can’t bring myself to blame them. The Unifier, sick on a boat. I’d laugh too, were I not constantly on the verge of throwing up.

Saliva floods my mouth and I get up. Needing fresh air, I make for the deck as fast as I can, one hand on the wall, and the other in front of me.

A cold wind brushes my face as I step onto the wet floorboards barefoot and bend over the rail. I stare at the dark waters as bile surges in my throat, and I can’t fight it anymore.

I take a deep breath when I’m done heaving my dinner, my throat on fire. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, spitting into the treacherous sea to rid my mouth of the taste.

My watery eyes clear and I grip the wooden rail tightly, taking in the night. Stars decorate the sky, shining bright above us, and a moon crescent hangs above the horizon.

My shoulders relax as I remember who I’m going after. I stay there a moment, picturing Azran’s face, and our reunion. My heart swells with hope as I wonder what he’ll say or do when he sees me. I’ve never been huge on sharing my feelings, running away from them has always been more my speed, but I’m ready to face the truth.

A tingle of guilt wakes inside me. He still doesn’t know how I feel about him. Hell, I can barely wrap my head around it myself, but he’s only ever heard venom leaving my lips.

The bond doesn’t flare anymore; the pain in my chest changed. A constant ache lives inside me, like a fire that’s been lit and kept ablaze by someone stirring embers.

My stomach drops as I consider the bond once more, and urgency takes me. Tears fill my eyes as I stay there, powerless and alone.

Azran is the only one who truly accepted me as I was. After twenty-two years of living a lie, and being abandoned by everyone I loved, he stayed. Even when I came an inch from killing him, he stayed, ready to die for my revenge, ready to disappear for me to exist. And back in Adria when the bond exploded freely, I felt safe, loved, and like I belonged for the first time. Right before he got taken away from me.

My fingers tighten on the wooden railing as the boat pitches forward and my power flickers with the pain coursing through my body. I let it flow through my chest, hugging me.

Keeping my gaze on the black sea ahead, I focus on the distance as my power unravels, keeping me company, letting me explore my emotions and embrace my anger.

I blink when a light flickers in the night.

It’s hard to tell where the sea ends and the sky begins, but I swear I just saw a light.

Squinting my eyes, I search for it again, my power at the ready.

My breath catches in my throat when the light appears again. Dull and almost faded, an animalistic shape takes form in the distance.

I almost lose balance when the next wave crashes on the side of the boat, and I recognize Savage’s white eyes.

He can’t be here. First of all, because as far as I know he could not fly or walk on water, and second of all, because he died.

The wolf tilts his head, his gaze sparkling, amused.

“Savage,” I whisper into the night.

My power echoes in response and his shape gets closer.

A laugh tears from my throat as my wolf’s spirit sits on the deck next to me and my hand goes through his fur effortlessly.

Glancing around, I return my hand to the railing to make sure no one sees me losing my mind before checking the web of energy inside me. A new thread of light courses through my veins, connecting me to Death’s spirit realm. Dark and decorated with stars, the starlight river peacefully flows through me, and I let myself drown in its comforting warmth.

A delegation meets us at Nyths’ gates and leads us up this labyrinth of a place to the royal palace. The city itself encrusts the mountainsides on different levels.

Milan and I lock eyes for a second as I glance around, feeling exposed without Nahtar. I didn’t argue with Calen when he asked for the sword. As much as it pained me to leave it in Averion, it’s far too recognizable and would give away my identity at a glimpse.

“Don’t trust anyone.”

The General’s words echo through my mind as we ride into Nyths and slowly climb the city. Greyish stone buildings decorate the paved streets as Fae go about their day, hopping in and out of carriages pulled by horses, undisturbed by our presence.

The higher we go, the fewer humans I notice, although the capital buzzes with activity. Doors open, bells chime as citizens enter and leave shops, and hooves echo on the pavement, muffling the conversations of their passengers.

On the highest level of the city, we come to a halt before immense stone doors. I resist a frown as black-armored guards open the gates to the palace. Carvings of monsters and demons adorn the panels, their teeth-filled mouths agape in silent screams.

It takes me a moment to look away from the horror in front of me, but when I do I clench my jaw. A series of bodies swing from ropes attached to the wall’s parapet.

Three humans and a Fae are hanged there, their features forever frozen in a mask of pain. One of the humans has hair painted various colors, though their face is so bruised and swollen I doubt anyone could identify them.

My nausea makes a comeback, for different reasons this time, and my power stirs with my anger. I exhale slowly, trying to keep my composure, as I feel my connection to the spirit realm come alive. Glancing sideways, Savage’s shape comes into view briefly, bringing me comfort like he always has.

I glance at Milan, but his gaze is fixed on the doors opening.

On the other side, we ride up another paved street, this one decorated with flowers and trees on each side, contrasting violently with the sight of the gate.

The stone doors close with a bang behind us, the echo reverberating in my bones.

As soon as the palace comes into view, we’re greeted by soldiers and a small group of Fae standing before its massive double doors.

The dark, asymmetrical building has innumerable number of arches, stained-glass windows, and narrow bridges connecting different parts of the immense palace. Just like the city it towers over, several levels sport turrets and balconies, no doubt offering a breathtaking view.

Our horses are stopped a good distance away from the entrance and we’re invited to dismount. I go first, and Milan and the others follow, taking positions behind me.

My throat dries as I face the welcoming committee by the doors, and the enormity of our task dawns on me. I’ve never done this before, and gods know diplomacy has never been my strong suit. I’m starting to think that maybe Cal was right about me not being ready.

Thankfully, a dark-haired Fae steps forward.

“Welcome to Nyths, Lady Elanor.” With a wave of his hand, an army of human servants descend on our mounts and bags.

His striking green eyes observe me from head to toe and I can’t look away. Tall but slender, he wears a leather-collared black ensemble and a brooch on his chest. A gold lily.

Milan clears his throat ever so slightly, stirring me from my state of frozen shock.

“Your Royal Highness.” Heat flushes my cheeks as I remember to bow before Prince Nylren. “Thank you for receiving me. It’s an honor to be here.”

“The pleasure is ours.” I look back up and offer a polite smile that he doesn’t return. I silently curse myself for not recognizing him sooner, after Cal’s thorough lesson on the royal family. “Follow me.”

The Prince looks away quickly and turns around.

I send an apologetic glance towards Milan, hoping I didn’t massively mess up within our first hour here.

We step inside a hall and my eyes widen. Paintings decorate entire walls, intricate rugs cover the floor, and flowers have been arranged at each corner, infusing their scent through the cold air of the palace. Dark curtains flank the windows, letting daylight shine on the golden molding.

I follow after the Prince as we cross several corridors and enter the most majestic room I’ve ever seen. The arched ceiling is painted entirely in black spirals and floral art, its corners merging with the walls, making the room seem even bigger than it is.

A crowd of courtesan and Fae nobles stands on either side of the hall, observing our delegation, and I lower my eyes, not daring to linger on the decorations any longer. They all wear colorful attire, much more extravagant than I’ve ever seen in Averion.

My heart skips a beat as I search for Azran’s face in the crowd in vain, my foolish hope crushed instantly.

Our footsteps echo on the obsidian floors leading up to a massive dais covered in forest-green velvet. Nylren walks directly in front of me, blocking the view, and my chest tightens with each passing moment.

After what feels like an eternity, he steps aside.

“Lady Elanor.”

The most handsome Fae I’ve ever seen is standing before me, a crown of gold and emerald decorating his forehead, matching the color of his irises.

His ear-length, raven-black hair reflects the sunlight as he smiles widely, showing off his perfect teeth and sharp jawline.

Prince Nylren goes to stand by his father’s side, now a pale copy of the elegant ruler of Zetrea.

“Your Majesty.” The ruffle of clothes and leather behind me confirms the whole delegation is kneeling as I bow.

Lifting my head after a decent amount of time, I study King Airdan as he steps down from the dais. His teal shirt has a few buttons open at the collar, revealing a muscular chest.

“You must be exhausted from your travels.” He tilts his head to the side, a piece of hair dangling over his captivating eyes.

“I am simply honored to be received in your home, your Majesty.”

I lower my gaze, my heart racing as I try my best not to fuck this up.

“What an exciting time, isn’t it?” His soft laughter fills the room as he looks around at its occupants. “Lóna and Zetrea, together once more. This ought to be a most joyful occasion, but first, you shall rest.”

He claps his hands loudly and servants flood into the throne room, ready to lead the way. Milan’s hand moves closer to his sword, startled by the extravagant display, and I barely repress the smile tugging my lips.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” I bow once more, eager to leave the formalities behind and get away from the dozens of eyes on us.