Chapter 8

Elanor

Ispend the next few days in my room, fueling my body, stretching, and regaining my strength after weeks in bed. I don’t have it in me to go to the training center yet. I’m not ready to face the soldiers in the garrison, though Vesta visits me several times.

Nahtar waits patiently for me, set against a wall in the room, its blade shining under the sunlight, and so does my power. I haven’t sought it out either. I’ve spent enough time lost in the realm it comes from, and I’m not eager to taste it again.

I’m still adjusting to the living world, the aftermath of the war, and the secret that is mine to keep—the reason I came back, the reason I find the resolve to get up in the morning and hold my grief at bay.

Although tempted to, I couldn’t stay with Death. I don’t understand how yet, but as much as I am my mother’s daughter, I am hers, and there’s still much for me to accomplish here. I thought my destiny was fulfilled with the prophecy and Braern’s defeat, but I was wrong, and Azran’s mission confirms it.

On the third day, my mate’s absence becomes too unbearable as I stare at the same walls for hours with the bond’s stabbing ache throbbing in my chest.

Venturing into the corridor, my steps take me to the room adjacent to mine. My hand is on the handle, ready to open it, when I freeze.

As much as I need to feel closer to him, I can’t go into his bedroom alone. Too many memories await me. Memories I’m not ready to explore.

I retreat and make for the stairs at the end of the white marble corridor. Climbing several floors, my legs burn with the effort, but I only stop in front of Azran’s office. I take a deep breath before entering the room.

I’m immediately assaulted by Azran’s smell of pine and citrus, although it’s fading.

Embers burn in the fireplace behind his wooden desk. I slowly approach the piece of furniture, walking around the leather couches, until my fingers caress the dark wood. The hair rises on my arm as my mind takes me to a different time. Our bodies devouring each other, a tingle of hate separating us.

Someone clears their throat behind me and I turn, startled. Cal is standing in the doorway.

“I’ve been taking care of things in his absence.”

I nod and step back from the desk. “Of course.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Cal tilts his head.

“Restless,” I add.

“I wish there was more we could do for Az, but right now, we have to wait.”

“When did you hear from him last?”

I scan his features and my blood freezes as I detect a hint of worry in his eyes.

“Cal, spare me the reassuring bullshit you give everyone else and tell me the truth.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before answering.

“I don’t know anything for sure. Last I heard, he got to the capital and intended to pay a visit to the King.”

“The King?”

“The Fae King, Airdan.” My brows draw together as I wait for him to continue. “Fae are not native to Lóna, as you know. Our motherland is in Zetrea, where the King lives and rules over Fae and humans.”

“Why haven’t I heard about him before?”

“Relations with Nyths ceased centuries ago, when wars broke out between the Fae factions.”

“Why would Azran meet with the King? What does that have to do with luring Braern’s allies out?”

“As the ruler of Lóna, his visit to King Airdan is a diplomatic necessity, especially after Braern’s defeat and the unification of our people.”

“You said Az arrived in Nyths. When was that?”

Cal heads behind the desk and proceeds to tidy up a stack of scattered documents.

“Cal,” I let out through gritted teeth, my body rigid with tension.

Seconds stretch before he responds.

“Three weeks ago.”

His words crack open the floodgates and I implode, red misting the edges of my vision.

“Three fucking weeks and not a single word since?”

Calen pinches his eyes shut as he weathers my attack.

“I’m going to Zetrea,” I blurt out.

“Absolutely not.” Calen slams his hands on the desk. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Watch me.” I step forward, ready to show him how serious I am. “The real question is, why aren’t you already on your way?”

“He ordered me to stay behind and deal with the aftermath of the war. He trusts me to do what’s right, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“And what’s right for him? Who knows where he is, and in what state?” I bare my teeth at him, unable to refrain from lashing out. “Why aren’t you more eager to protect your High Lord?”

“You have no right questioning my loyalty,” Calen thunders, and I pause. “I know who he is to you, Ela. I’m just as worried as you are, but you’re not in fighting shape.” My mouth opens to argue, but he doesn’t give me the chance. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Challenge lingers in his irises, crushing my anger.

I can’t. He knows I can’t. I haven’t touched my blade in months. Defeat stings in the corner of my eyes as my courage wavers.

“He would never forgive me, and neither would I, if something happened to you. Sending you to a place you’ve never been, out of shape, and barely recovered after escaping death is madness. You have to see it, Ela.”

My head drops and I stare at the floor until the tears retreat.

“I was there, Ela. I was the one who got to you and Az on the battlefield. Both of you were hanging onto life by a thread. I’m not playing with fate this time.”

I swallow hard as I nod. “Fine.”

Calen is right, I’m not ready.

His eyebrows raise slightly, but I give him a small smile instead.

His gaze narrows, revealing he’s not entirely buying the act, but I turn around and head out of the office, a plan already forming in my head.

Look at me, learning the time and place for verbal sparring.

“Ela.” The General is calling his soldier, but I’m already in the corridor. “Get back here.”

His voice rings in the palace halls and a wide smile blooms on my face.

It feels good to be back.

When I make it back to my room, I’m ready to answer Nahtar’s call. I’m going to regain my strength, and this blade is all I need.

My power reacts instantly when my fingers brush the hilt of the sword. The energy pulses in my core, numbing all emotions, asking me to join the darkness, become one with it, and step into a world I’ve barely touched before.

My vision clouds and a black veil takes over the room, pulling me to the center of the storm. My body is weightless as I drift towards the dark energy, irrevocably drawn to it, drunk on its power.

My hands lift as heat courses through my fingers and up my arms. I’m losing control, getting closer to the edge, as the energy builds in my palms.

Panic sears through the numbness when my lack of control registers, and I’m transported back to Adria, seconds before the blast decimating our army, alarm prickling at the back of my neck.

A familiar biting pain reverberates down the bond, sharper than I’ve felt before, and my vision clears as the sting pulls me back from the dark spiral.

Stumbling back, I lower my hands, my chest heaving from the depth of my discovery. An ocean of darkness awaits inside of me, my power transformed, its limits unexplored.

A pit opens in my stomach as I contemplate the immensity of the task that lies ahead of me. I merely toyed with the dark energy in Adria, and I am now stepping into the unknown. Tapping into my power blindly is no longer an option, not with so many people around me.

But I won’t let it scare me. Death walks with me and we have a mission to accomplish. If I am to fulfill my purpose, I have no choice but to be ready for what’s coming.

“Come on, L,” I whisper to myself. “You can do this.”

Grabbing hold of Nahtar, its familiar weight in hand, I release just enough power to block off the waves of emotions raging inside my heart and find inner calm.

It’s become so natural I don’t even think about it, and I begin a series of strikes in the empty space before my bed.

The bond still flares through the numbness, its sting a sharp reminder of Azran’s absence as I wield Nahtar. Although thrown off balance at first, I’m getting used to the comforting pain.

I’m coming back to the world of the living. There is purpose and anger in my heart again, fueling me, pushing me to keep going even when my arms tire. The old Ela died in Adria, and the daughter of darkness and Death is reborn.

After hours of dancing with Death, my legs are shaky, so Rina finds me sitting on the floor, panting.

She’s carrying a platter full of food, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

After eating my fill, I turn to Rina, who is tidying up the room.

“Do you know where I can find Mor?”

The old Fae doesn’t stop what she’s doing to answer.

“His office is on the same floor as our High Lord’s. Two doors down.”