Chapter 40

Elanor

The cacophony of Ryfa’s bustling port fills our ears as we creep towards it under moonlight. Leaving the exhausted horse to graze the plains, we cover the remaining miles on foot to avoid unwanted attention.

We pass sleeping farms and storefronts, alert for threats but focused on advancing steadily seaward. My body screams for rest, each hard-won step intensifying the struggle. Beside me, Azran fares little better, face gaunt and ash-pale in the occasional pool of torch glow as we cross the dark avenues. But neither of us dare utter a single complaint as we move through the streets with stubborn will coursing through our veins.

We keep our heads down until we reach the waterfront, crammed with salt-weathered warehouses and taverns reeking of brine, sweat, and stale spirits.

Calling upon my shadows, Az and I stick to the dark corners and head towards the docks.

A few drunken snores echo from shadowed alcoves as we get to the creaking piers. The gentle lap of inky waves against barnacle-crusted poles fills the air. Our target is within reach.

The Myra floats on the other side of the dock, pitching slightly with the waves, its cabin sunken in darkness.

I pause behind wooden crates, still a good distance from the pontoon where it anchored, and Azran at my back.

He goes around me, ready to cross into the open where my shadows will offer little protection, but I yank him back.

“Soldiers,”I whisper down the bond.

I cock my head towards the buildings surrounding the docks as shapes emerge from their shadows and he crouches to the ground, seeking cover behind the crates.

“Calen,”he says.

“They need to be warned,”I add.

I peek behind the boxes, assessing the rest of our surroundings. Stacks of ropes, barrels and various crates line the docks and pontoons.

My eyes catch on a discarded bottle tucked against a crate, just visible in flickering torchlight. About a finger’s worth of amber liquid still sloshes inside, not near enough to identify by scent from this distance.

“What’s the chance this crate is filled with bottles?”

I glance towards Azran as his gaze sharpens, a grin spreading slow as my unspoken suggestion takes root.

Calling on my powers, I let warmth spread through the palm of my hand and aim at the crate.

It goes up in flames and a small blast detonates seconds later, scattering wood and glass across the docks. That ought to do the trick.

I duck behind the wooden box as shouts ring out and swords are drawn.

“Ready?” Az asks, his hand tightly gripped around his two-bladed sword.

Mine goes to Nahtar and I nod sharply.

We break cover, sprinting towards the soldiers fighting our own on the pontoon, but more flood out of the buildings surrounding the docks, encircling us.

I spot Calen, already engaged in a fight alongside Vesta, but Az and I are forced to fight back-to-back against the soldiers coming at us from all sides. Half of them go to the pontoon while the rest turn to face us, cutting us off from the boat.

Nahtar sinks into my first attacker as Azran’s blades sing behind me. Smoke fills my lungs, but my only focus is on the next attack and parry.

My sword finds flesh again, tearing through a soldier on my right. I deflect a hissing cut and leap sideways to hammer down another blow. My arms protest each arc but I push through.

Blood splatters on my beige shirt when the tip of a blade finds my shoulder, and my power answers. Blocking off everything around me, my eyes narrow on the one responsible.

The massive Fae grins at me, perfectly unaware of the hell I’m about to unleash. Obsidian ribbons leave my fingers, seizing him by the throat and muffling his gargles as acid burns through his skin.

His body hits the ground as Azran cuts another attacker in half, splitting his torso from his legs, but more are coming.

“They were waiting for us,” I snarl.

Azran’s crazed eyes meet mine for an instant before he moves on to his next target, and I do the same.

I push back a soldier and parry another blow coming at my face, forcing me to retreat until my back hits Azran’s.

The group of Fae is cornering us and freedom seems further and further away.

“On my signal, duck,” I command through the bond.

“Ela.”

I dismiss his worried tone and call on the tenebrous energy, letting it swallow me whole. My vision darkens until the world transforms in hues of grey and black. My eyes roll as Death takes over, fueling me with her wrath.

Drunk on power, dark ribbons erupt from me, destroying any soldier that engages me.

I glance at Azran as a grin forms on my face.

“Now.”

Extending both hands, fire pours from my fingers and sword, burning blindly. The acrid smell of smoke mixes with burning flesh as I dance with Death, and screams echo in the cold night air.

Turning around, I let the dark flames spread through the docks, licking at the crates and engulfing terrified soldiers in their blaze.

When the screams die, so do the flames.

Azran is on me instantly, holding me up as I sag against his chest.

The echoes of a distant fight reach us and Azran turns his head. Soldiers are still fighting on the pontoon.

“I’m fine. Go,” I say as I regain my feet, Nahtar still in hand.

After scanning me quickly, Azran makes for the end of the dock, leaving a pile of bodies behind him.

I eye the burning corpses at my feet, still on high alert although my legs threaten to give out from under me. Once reassured no more soldiers will emerge from the warehouses behind us, I make for the pontoon.

By the time I reach it, the battle is over.

I scramble over the rail with Azran’s help, slumping beside him as my quivering limbs betray me. We lock eyes as triumph blazes in his irises.

We made it. Against all odds, we fucking made it.

Vesta shouts commands for the boat to sail. Our soldiers are bloodied, but the crew spreads out to unfurl the sails and crank the anchor, obeying her orders without pause.

I prop myself against the mast, straining to calm my ragged breaths as the ship lurches into motion.

Calen finishes wiping his blade clean on his sleeve before gripping Az’s shoulder. They thump each other’s backs, their fingers grabbing anything they can find purchase on.

“That was one hell of a risky plan,” Az lets out, still out of breath.

“Never doubted you for a second, brother.” Cal shoots him a wink as he lets go and turns to me.

“Impressive, what you did out there.” He motions towards the back of the ship. “Cabin’s this way. You’ve both earned the rest.”

“Thank you,” I answer as Azran reaches for my hand.

I let him lead the way, too exhausted and stunned to do anything else.

As the cabin door opens, I glance back at the docks and city fading behind us, encircled in smoke. When I meet Azran’s gaze again, my heart swells near to bursting. His eyes are no longer haunted by Airdan’s ghost, but blazing with his newly liberated spirit.

In that wordless look burns our future. Come what may, we will face it hand in hand.

A sickening lurch in my stomach yanks me from restless dreams, the blooming queasiness impossible to ignore as I wake in the middle of the night to the ship pitching at sea.

Azran sleeps soundly next to me, and although tempted to stay by his side, I lift the covers and silently ease out of bed.

Another wave of nausea hits me as I stand and slip into the corridor, dimly-lit with a few lanterns. With both hands on the walls to keep me steady, I make my way towards the deck.

I jump back when a door swings towards my nose, narrowly avoiding a painful collision.

“Damn it—“

“Sorry, L.” Vesta’s cheerful face pops out from behind the door panel. “I didn’t hear you.”

I wave off her apology, grateful the door didn’t hit my face, and she squints at me.

“You look like shit.”

“That’s because I feel like shit.”

My hand goes to my mouth as soon as the words leave my tongue, and queasiness flares. My stomach twists, threatening to expel last night’s dinner, and I swallow the acidic lump in my throat.

A chuckle escapes Vesta’s lips before she grabs my arm to guide me to the back of the ship.

“Come with me.”

We enter a galley where the light of a lantern reveals a small table, wooden cabinets, and no doubt my face turning greener with each wave that rocks the ship.

Vesta digs through several cabinets before handing me a small vial.

“This should help you sleep, and hopefully settle your stomach for a while.”

I eye it suspiciously before downing its contents in one gulp.

Vesta’s head cocks to the side and a grin tugs at her lips.

“Don’t you dare make fun of me.”

“Oh, come on.” Loose strands of red hair swings before her eyes shining with mischief. Her grin widens. “The mighty Unifier has sea sickness. I can’t wait to tell Wyn and Varan.”

“You’re not gonna say a word. I swear I’ll kill you.”

I step forward before freezing in place, another wave of nausea forming in my throat.

“Not in that state, you won’t,” Vesta answers as her laughter fills the air.

I join her seconds later until my hands go to my stomach and I pinch my lips shut to repress a gag.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

I’m alone in bed when I wake several hours later. Light streams through the closed door, confirming Vesta’s potion alleviated the nausea, at least temporarily.

I indulge for a moment in the feather pillow and mattress bringing relief to my spent muscles and weary bones, which for months have known only cold stone.

Rolling over, I exhale fully, a foreign peace settling my soul for the first time in ages. I am warm, whole, and my throat is free of thirst.

Even my stomach is giving me a break, but there’s no telling how long the reprieve will last, so I get up to find Azran.

Still wearing my blood-soaked shirt and pants, and with only a small wash basin and towel at my disposal, I clean my face as best I can before digging into the wooden box beside it. A proper bath will have to wait.

A smile tugs my lips when my eyes land on a mirror, a pair of scissors, a comb, and a razor. I leave everything on the bed, which takes up most of the room, and head onto the deck.

Azran stands at the bow of the ship, his muscular frame casually draped along the railing as he gazes into the distance. His neck and bare arms soak up the sun’s warmth and a wayward breeze teases loose blond strands of his hair.

He turns around as I try sneaking up behind him, sensing my presence. A grin plays on his lips.

“Hi.”

“Come with me,” I say, grabbing his hand and leading him back to the bed we shared last night.

“Sit.”

He glances at my instruments still laid on the covers, but obeys, a twinkle of amusement shining in his eyes.

He lowers his head, giving me permission as I take position between his legs, and I get to work.

I grab at longer strands of hair on top of his head, brushing through with the comb before pinching a piece between my fingers and cutting it. For a moment, nothing breaks our silence except for the crisp, clean snip of the blades as I even out the top of his hair.

I climb on the bed behind him to look at the back of his head and keep going, opening and closing the scissors as chunks of hair fall.

Azran’s words loop in my head, details of his childhood, and the look in his eyes I just can’t erase. His breathing is regular, but mine quickens as I picture the horrors he’s gone through.

When I grip the razor, I can’t help the tears from pooling in my eyes as grief washes over me, for not knowing, for only finding out now. Azran tenses almost imperceptibly under my touch and I pause until his shoulders relax.

I make quick work of shaving the hair at the back of his neck and above his ears.

I brush through his hair with my fingers to check the length, my emotions running wild though I try to silence them. Revenge calls to me, pushing me to scream my rage at the world down the bond.

This world keeps tearing us to pieces, taking aim and crushing us at every turn, and maybe Death sent me here to destroy it all.

“All done,” I say with a trembling voice. I hop off the bed to face him and inspect my work.

Azran pulls me to him and I sit on his lap, legs spread apart, scissors, comb, and razor still in hand.

“Don’t cry for me, little one. Save your tears for our happiest days, which are still to come.”

I rest my forehead on his and brush my lips over his mouth. His arms wrap around me and he closes the distance between us. His kiss is demanding, filling me with desire and sucking the air out of my lungs.

Azran catches my lip between his teeth, a growl tearing through his throat and lighting my core on fire. His hand travels my back before settling under my thighs.

A squeal escapes me when he lifts me, securing my body against his. The instruments clatter to the floor, but Azran is already laying me on the bed.

He removes his shirt, letting me admire the muscles on his chest and the V emerging from the waistband of his pants.

His eyes smolder with a new intensity, revealing the depth of his desire, and I need that look carved into my memory.

“Why are you still dressed?” His voice is filled with need as he crawls to me.

“You do it so much better than I ever could,” I reply with a grin.

Moments later, I’m naked on the blankets, his warm body pressing against mine.

He lowers himself but I stop him, my hands around his face bringing him back to me.

“I need you right here.” I press my lips against his before pushing his chest so he’ll flip over.

Bracing my hands on either side of his head, I straddle him. A groan escapes his lips when I grind against his hard length and his hands land on my thighs, securing me in place.

I drag my fingers along his cheekbone and sharp jawline. He kisses my fingers when I brush them over his lips, the small gesture leaving me breathless.

My heart is pounding in my chest, ready to shatter my ribs like it can’t be contained. And neither can my love for him. The words sit on my tongue, straining to be free, to cry out my devotion as I drown in this overwhelming feeling.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” I blurt out, my fingers frozen inches from his face. “To see you. See us.”

“Little one, you could have taken eternity and I would have waited.”

The unsaid words burn my tongue, threatening to pour over until I decide to jump off the ledge.

“I love you.”

The words spill out in a rush, lifting an immense weight off my chest as I stand on the edge of a cliff. I’ve never said it to anyone, not like that. I thought I never would. Love was never in the cards for me, until now.

Azran closes his eyes and I hit the ground. Those three words hang in the air like a vow, leaving me vulnerable and exposed to his silence. Floodgates to fear open before me, a fear I cannot contain.

In the second it takes me to utter these three words, I step onto a battlefield with no armor.

My instincts scream for me to run, to protect myself, but I fight back.

I’ve run away from him, before, and he stayed, enduring the rejection. I’m done running.

I reach for his face, gently brushing his cheek.

“Show me your eyes,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Please. Show me your eyes as mine scream my despair, my hope.

I’ve never needed to hear his voice more than I do now. They say eyes are windows into the soul, and I need to gaze into his like my life depends on it.