Chapter 17

Ireleased a ragged exhale, pressing my shaking fingers to my forehead.

The floor beneath my boots trembled, enough to send vibrations up through my already tense legs, my calves so tight they ached. I'd been standing here since dawn.

Since I'd discovered both Anaria and Tristan were missing.

No, not missing.

On a mission to retrieve the knife and bring the weapon back here, according to Anaria's scrawled note left propped up in the dining table amidst Bexley's beakers and books.

I'd been standing here ever since, framed by the enormous windows, the waterfalls roaring beneath me, staring out over the ruined forest and watching for any sign of a wyvern shifter outlined against the gray sky.

A shifter I might kill the moment he landed if I wasn't careful.

I couldn't remember ever being this furious. Or this helpless.

Raz and I had spent far too long debating the wisdom of flying to Mysthaven ourselves and dragging both of them back. Only the final part of Anaria's note, ordering us not to follow, explaining she and Tristan had to handle this task alone, kept us here, pacing the palace floors.

Because she hadn't asked, she'd ordered. Since I know how stubborn the lot of you are, as your queen, I am ordering you to remain at the palace until we return. Don't even think about disobeying me, Zorander Vayle.

So here we fucking were.

Obedient little soldiers.

But my resolve was fraying, and Anaria's hold over me was slipping, whittled away by anger and fear and fury.

Boots clattered across the marble floor behind me, the sound ringing off the glass. "Any sign of them?" Tavion asked for what had to be the hundredth time. "It's been hours."

"We don't know how long it's been."

"Don't be a fucking arse. It's been hours since we found the note."

That much was true. Hours since Raziel had rushed in with the handwritten note clutched in his hand, furious and panicked and seconds away from doing something stupid. Shadows still lingered in Tavion's face, his voice slightly hoarse from shouting.

Fuck, we'd argued until all our throats were raw.

"Anaria asked us not to follow her." I resumed staring. If I looked hard enough, I could feel her out there, the tether between us drawing tauter, our bond unbroken. So long as that connection held true, she was safe. I had to believe that.

The fucking wyvern had better keep her safe or I'd skin his worthless hide.

"I'm locking her in a room when she gets back," Tavion muttered matter-of-factly. "And never letting her out again. Never letting her out of my sight again, not for an instant."

"Tell your wolf to keep his opinions to himself once she returns. Anaria won't abide that sort of talk," I warned, though right now I agreed wholeheartedly. "Locking her up won't keep her safe. The magic demands too much of her."

Fury was a wave that threatened to sweep me away. Because that was the problem. Anaria wasn't a sweet, beloved Fae female meant to be treasured and loved and coddled by us.

She was a fucking force of nature, the mortal tool this universe had chosen to both resurrect this world and the scythe that would cleave the darkness away. The weapon that the universe would wield, over and over again, until there was nothing left.

I closed my eyes, shutting out the blackened forest.

The universe asked too much of Anaria.

Too fucking much, and worse, I couldn't protect her. Couldn't stop her. Couldn't do anything except watch this world devour the woman I loved. The woman who had become my light, the only bright spot in my life. She made me feel things I hadn't felt in decades, like waking from a long, dark sleep.

My eyes flew open, locking with Tavion's.

I knew the second she arrived.

Maybe it was because I was so attuned to my surroundings.

Or because every nerve in my body was on alert, but I sensed the very second the air in the palace shifted, an unnaturally chill wind sweeping in. Like time itself had stopped, breath paused in my lungs, realization rushing in.

"Did you feel that?" Tavion went still beside me. "I recognize that taint of foul magic. She's fucking found us."

Wide green eyes locked with mine, and Tavion shoved me, fucking shoved me across the floor. "Go. Fly to Blackcastle. You can make it in one jump. One of us has to get away, and I can't escape this place like you. If I can, I'll warn Anaria and Tristan, send them to you before she gets her claws into either of them."

I debated.

For a split second, I debated staying.

But getting trapped by a vengeful Oracle meant not being alive to help Anaria. And one of us had to survive.

"Try not to fucking die," I hissed before vanishing into the wind.