Chapter 17

Elanor

There is no mistaking the look Milan shoots me when I exit my room the next morning in Jaida’s tow.

Being constantly accompanied by an escort has its perks when it comes to avoiding a scolding from my protector after my nightly escapade.

I don’t even make eye contact with him. There’s nothing Milan could say that I haven’t already told myself.

It was dangerous, but worth it.

Granted, my heart almost gave out about a hundred times, but I learned that secrets are definitely being kept in this place. I couldn’t identify the owner of the laugh or the mysterious hooded figure, but not getting caught is still a win in my book. It’s at least given me the confidence, or illusion, that I can do this.

I spend the morning browsing through pointless books in one of the palace libraries, the King and Nylren busy tending to other business.

I’m also left alone for lunch, although always under the supervision of Jaida. Once I finish eating, I push my chair back just as the doors open and a servant enters.

“Prince Nylren will meet you in the training center, Lady Elanor.”

“Very well.” Onto the next steps of my plan, then.

Milan still hasn’t said a word to me, silently brooding a few steps behind me as we walk the palace.

When we enter the training center, Nylren is already there.

“Your Highness.”

He turns as I step inside, greeting me with a small smile. Dark purple circles his bloodshot eyes today, revealing his exhaustion, although he tries hiding it with a polite upturn of his lips. Suffering seems etched in every line of his haggard face.

“I hope your day was pleasant so far, Elanor.”

The door closes behind me and I turn back, confirming Jaida is gone, leaving me alone with Nylren and Milan. The guard goes to stand in a corner by the entrance of the plain room. With large windows, the only decoration on the stone walls, this is by far the least ostentatious room in the palace.

“Very. How was yours, your Highness?”

“Monotonous.” He motions towards the weapons rack. “Governing can be like that.”

I follow after him, eyeing one of the long swords on the table and extending my hand to grab it.

“I would recommend the short sword, Elanor. It might be better suited for your stature.”

I freeze mid-air, considering the rest of the weapons placed before me.

“Of course.” I grip a small blade instead, biting back a retort. “Thank you.”

I make eye contact with Milan as I turn around and find a twinkle of amusement in the guard’s gaze.

I spend the next hour training next to Nylren, listening to his recommendations with a smile. My power remains locked away and I hold back my blows, carefully playing my part in this game of pretense.

Nylren trains with knives, aiming at a target on the wall. His grip on the blades a little loose, he misses most hits, but I keep my mouth shut.

I go through basic routines, slower than I normally would, barely breaking a sweat but pretending to be out of breath every now and then.

“Does Azran encourage all Fae to wield swords in Lóna?” Nylren’s voice fills the air as one of his knives hits the target.

My heartbeat quickens and I clear my throat as I lower my blade.

“The High Lord doesn’t discourage it.”

The Prince goes to pick up his blades and I give him a small smile.

“I met him, you know? Azran.” My blood freezes and I stretch my shoulder blades to cover my reaction. “We were both children at the time.”

I chuckle lightly, trying my best to hide the shock of hearing my mate’s name on his lips.

“I had no idea, your Highness.”

“Different times.”

He shrugs off his words with a tight smile, leaving me wondering.

Little by little, Nylren is opening up, confirming I shouldn’t dismiss the possibility of working with him. As the days go by, I’m starting to see a softer, more approachable side to the Prince.

“To be honest, I don’t usually train as much, though I appreciate you making time to join me,” I say, to keep the conversation going.

“I know how dull the palace life can be while my father is otherwise occupied.”

“And I appreciate that, your Highness.”

“You don’t have to call me that when it’s just us.” He looks around. “Nylren is fine.”

Taking this as a sign of trust, I decide to see how far this progress can get me. Maybe I’ll be able to steal a few hours alone.

“Sounds good, Nylren.” I stretch out my arm, faking the fatigue and strain in my muscles. “Do you mind if we call it a day and I go get cleaned up?”

“Of course.” He puts down his knives and calls for a servant to accompany Milan and me back to my room.

As we walk through the palace, I go over different scenarios in my head. If I’m quick enough, I can make my way out of the palace and into the city.

If anyone comes looking for me, I can feign ignorance saying there was an opening in my day. King Airdan told me there would be time to explore Nyths, after all.

I almost slam my door in Milan’s face when I get back, eager to bathe quickly and seize the opportunity.

I open the faucet and remove my clothes while I wait for the water to fill, leaving them bunched up on the floor.

Once there’s enough water for me to get in, I sink into the warm bath, allowing myself a few minutes to relax before grabbing the soap. A floral scent fills the air as I rub my body clean and rinse.

I stand in the tub, ready to get out, and look for a towel. Shit. I left it in the bedroom.

I hop out of the bath and go to the vanity where a small hand towel awaits. I pat my face dry and squeeze the excess water out of my hair with it, letting water drip on the dark floors. That will do for now.

I quickly brush my hair in front of the condensation-covered mirror, keeping my reflection hidden, but I put down the brush when hair rises on my arm.

Goosebumps erupt all over my body as a cold wind blows through the room, sending the sheer curtains rustling, and my vision darkens. My power responds immediately, and my connection to the spirit world awakens.

A window slams shut and I startle, my concentration lost.

I take in the room and chuckle, relaxing my shoulders to shake away the paranoia.

In the mirror, the steam from the bath is evaporating little by little, and my reflection comes into focus. Something stirs in the corner of the reflective glass and I grab the towel to wipe the rest of the fog.

A cry dies on my lips when my mouth is covered by the hand of an intruder, and I drop the towel on the floor.

His other arm finds purchase around my waist, securing my arms in place. His muscles tighten against my resistance until I freeze in his embrace.

Tears fill my widened eyes as long hair brushes my naked shoulders. Seconds later, he removes his hand from my mouth and lets it fall to my neck.

My mate’s crimson eyes are staring back at me in the mirror, his face bruised and cut.

I sag against Azran’s chest, needing to feel his body and smell his scent to confirm I’m not dreaming.

His chin slowly rests on my head as he lets out a heavy sigh, his fiery gaze locked with mine, and the bond explodes in my chest.

The constant ache is relegated to a distant memory, all traces of doubt and hurt erased. My heart swells and tears roll down my cheeks as shock makes room for relief and ethereal harmony. He’s here, he found me, just like he always promised.

I lower his hand to my chest, needing his touch more than anything I’ve ever longed for in this life.

“Why did you come here?” His tense voice is barely more than a whisper in my ears, yet I’ve never craved the sound of it more.

My trembling hands go to his, tightening his hold around my body.

“I was looking for you.” My voice breaks, unable to hide the storm of emotion flooding me. “No one’s heard from you in weeks. What happened?”

“I’ll explain later.” His crazed eyes scan the room. “We have to go.”

I try to hold his forearms, but he pulls away and motions towards the wardrobe for me to get dressed.

His name dies on my lips when I meet his gaze, redder and angrier than I remember.

Dried blood covers his torn clothes and his left thigh sports a mean gash, still oozing fluid. I’m about to argue when the look in his eyes registers.

The closest state I’ve ever seen him in was back in Adria, when the two of us were fighting against a horde of rebels, but this is different. He looks panicked, demented almost.

Az scans the room like a caged animal, so I hurry to the bedroom and put on a shirt. He follows after me, his leg dragging slightly.

Digging inside the wardrobe for a pair of pants, my fingers stub against a ridge inside the massive piece of furniture. I almost miss it the first time, but there is no mistaking the lever I just found. I grab the edge of it and pull, revealing a small door and passageway, wide enough for an adult.

“Is it how you—“

“Shh.” His eyes widen and I pull my arm out of the closet.

A sharp rasp sounds at the door, and before I can even turn, Az is a blur, vanishing into the closet.

My pulse roars as the handle rattles and slowly twists to reveal King Airdan, frozen in the doorway.

Heat floods my cheeks as I scramble to snatch a robe and cover myself.

“My apologies for the intrusion, Elanor.” The King doesn’t bother averting his gaze and shines his brightest smile at me instead. “I’ve cleared my schedule for the evening in hopes you will forgive my failings as a host.”

He takes a step closer as I clutch my robe tightly.

“Join me for dinner,” Airdan offers, his invitation phrased like a request, though his tone brooks no argument.

My mind races, picturing Az hiding just feet away. One wrong move and I will expose our ruse and endanger us both.

“I... of course, Your Majesty.” I lower my eyes demurely, hoping Airdan can’t hear my heart slamming inside my chest. A predator’s patience radiates from him as he observes me, seconds ticking by like an eternity.

“Meet me in the dinning room when you’re ready.”

His eyes wander on my neck and legs before he looks away and makes for the door.

I’m ready to release the breath I’ve been holding when he turns back.

“I’m looking forward to an evening together.”

“Me too, your Majesty,” I say as I lower my head in deference.

I barely hear the door close with the blood pulsing in my ears.

My heart sinks when I turn around and find Azran emerging from the secret passageway. His hate-filled eyes land on the door before meeting mine. But it’s not Azran standing before me, a shadow of him maybe, the enraged monster.

“I can’t go,” I whisper, though we both already know it. My absence would raise alarms in seconds.

A storm rages within the bond as dark waves wash over it. The tender male I found in Averion is long gone. The warlord who never abandoned me, too. He’s been replaced by a beast, rage bleeding from every pore.

“I’ll meet you here tonight.” The words rasp between his barely parted lips. His chest heaves like he’s been sprinting, limbs coiled with dangerous energy. He looks out of breath and out of his mind.

“Wait—“

I reach for him instinctively, but he’s already vanishing down the secret passage.