Chapter 5
Daed
Before her. What a curious thing this human is. This Amara Tyne.
I have been watching her for some time now, studying the way she works the soil, her hands caked in mud, dirt wedged beneath her nails. She brushes a stray strand of hair from her face without care, smearing dirt across her cheek, so unlike the pristine, delicate females of the Fae courts.
I can smell the sweat on her skin, mingling with the natural sweetness that lingers there. But beneath that, another scent emerges, something deeper, sharper. It fills my head, burns through my veins like molten fire. It is intoxicating.
She is unlike any human female I have encountered. Every small, insignificant movement she makes strikes me with such force that she might as well be a titan. I am captivated by her, by her mannerisms, her subtleties, her presence.
It seems almost a pity that something so fascinating must die.
But on the absurd chance she is Awakened—a human Awakened—then she is far too dangerous to be allowed to live.
Amara rocks back onto her knees, gently patting the soil around a leafy green plant.
She wipes her hands on her simple green dress and exhales a satisfied sigh.
Lifting her face, she shields her eyes from the sun cutting through the canopy.
The light catches her warm brown skin, illuminating her like some divine artifact.
At that moment, I have never envied sunlight more.
I could kill her now if I wished. Step out of the shadows of this tree, appear behind her in an instant, and drive my blade between her ribs before she even senses me. It would be quick. She intrigues me enough that I wouldn’t let her suffer.
Smoke curls between my fingers, dark and restless, as I weigh my next move. Why am I still sitting here, lingering? Perhaps because killing her without cause would be…unprincely. I am the human’s sovereign, after all. I am no tyrant, no matter how much they whisper otherwise.
Still, she cannot be Awakened. There are no signs, no mystical aura surrounding her. Nothing ethereal to suggest she wields magic older than the stars themselves. She’s just a human playing in the dirt.
She is nothing.
The silver edge of a blade shimmers as it forms in my hand, the runes inked into my skin pulsing faintly. I tighten my grip on the hilt. Perhaps I should get closer just to be sure.
Suddenly, the branches around me groan and creak, wood twisting like waking limbs. I narrow my eyes as the branch beneath me sprouts new growth, tendrils wrapping around my legs, locking me in place.
I jerk against the restraints, snarling, as another branch coils around my chest, squeezing tight.
“Do you know who I am, elemental?” My voice is sharp, my canines elongating in warning.
The forest spirit does not respond. It only tightens its grip, wood groaning as it constricts me further.
Ah, this girl. The Jewel of the Tenders, Eryndor called her. So, she is guarded by these lesser fae.
How precious.
“This will not end well for you,” I growl, my voice strained. “The Maledannan may allow you your freedom, but I will not. You know the darkness that runs through me. You dare seek it out?”
My curse wells up inside me, the void that is both my prison and my power. It rises like a tide, swallowing everything within me. The memories, the scraps of joy, the faintest hints of hope, until there is nothing left but hollow hunger.
My eyes roll back, and when they open again, I know they are black pits. Smoke spills from my skin, curling in tendrils as the branches gripping me recoil, their instinct for survival stronger than their loyalty to the girl.
The wood creaks and groans, turning brittle in an instant, bark splitting and cracking as rot races along the vines like poison through veins. With a sharp snap, they splinter and crumble, and I fall free.
I drop from the tree in a crouch, landing hard enough to snap twigs and send the forest into chaos.
Birds explode from the branches above, shrieking as they flee.
My ears catch the sound of footsteps behind me, and the darkness inside me coils tighter, demanding blood, demanding flesh to sate its endless hunger.
The dagger in my hand feels heavier, pulsing in time with the void that threatens to consume me. My grip tightens until my knuckles ache, and I feel it happening. The moment I lose myself.
The moment he takes over.
The ancient force within me, older than this forest, older than the first dawn, tears through my control like a blade through silk. I am shoved aside, a passenger in my own body, watching as the beast claims me.
“Who are you?”
Her voice cuts through the shadows. Steady, curious, lacking the fear I am so used to hearing, and it carries a warmth that stops the tide just before it drowns me.
The dagger vanishes as my form shifts. Fangs retract and pointed ears soften as I glamor myself, and my features bend into something more familiar to her. Something human.
I step out of the shadows, and her gaze narrows, assessing me as the sunlight filters through the canopy, catching her dark eyes, the line of her jaw, the curve of her lips.
“Who are you?” she demands again, her voice steady. “You are not of the Grove.”
“No,” I reply, stepping closer, so near now that I could snap her neck with a flick of my wrist if I wished.
Her expression hardens, the softness of her face giving way to steel. “You’re a poacher, then. Here to murder the creatures of this forest. You are not welcome here.”
My lip twitches in amusement, her defiance sparking something unexpectedly warm in my chest. “And what will you do about it? You’re alone, with no one around for miles.”
I take another step forward, testing her resolve, but she doesn’t flinch.
“You have no weapons. No magic. Nothing to protect you.”
She raises her chin, eyes blazing. “I need neither to defend myself from a coward like you. Someone who preys on the innocent, skulking in shadows and threatening a young girl to feel powerful.” She flexes her fingers, her nails filthy.
“These will do just fine to scratch your eyes out if you come any closer. Now leave, while you still have your dignity and your sight.”
Laughter erupts from my throat, unbidden and genuine, but not cruel. It’s a foreign sound to my ears, more of a surprise than an insult. Warmth spreads through me, uncoiling the darkness that clawed at the edges of my mind. It retreats, slinking back into the void it came from.
There is no fear in her. Only fire. A fierce passion that stirs something unfamiliar.
But she doesn’t find my amusement endearing. Her expression sharpens.
“I’ve warned you,” she says firmly, her voice calm but unrelenting. “I have a power within me. Don’t make me summon it to my side.”
The laughter dies in my throat. My eyes narrow on her, and I take a half step closer.
“Power?” I ask, the word tasting like bait. “What power?”
Her hand lifts to the rune hanging from a leather string around her neck. She clasps it tightly, her knuckles whitening as she holds her ground. “I am the forest,” she says, her voice low but fierce, each word crackling with conviction. “I am the Jewel of the Tenders.”
The anticipation inside me vanishes. My eyes flick to the rune. It’s Maledannan. A relic for healing. Nothing more.
The realization washes over me like cold water, extinguishing whatever simmering tension remained. This girl isn’t Awakened. She’s no threat to me.
There is nothing more to be gained here.
“Very well,” I say, taking a deliberate step back. “I will leave.”
Her head jerks slightly, startled by my sudden compliance. “You will?”
I smirk. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yes,” she says quickly, straightening her shoulders as if to regain the upper hand. “Leave and be quick about it.”
The Prince of the Sundered Kingdoms isn’t accustomed to being ordered about, especially by a human, but there’s something oddly charming about her obliviousness to who I truly am.
An Awakened would see through my glamor in an instant, pierce the enchantments masking my true form. Amara Tyne is just another human.
I dip my chin, striding past her, the scintillating scent of her filling my head once more. It’s maddening, almost intoxicating, and an involuntary groan escapes my lips before I can stop it. I grit my teeth, trying to will the reaction away.
I’ve barely taken a few steps when I hear the rustle of grass behind me.
“Wait,” she calls.
The word hooks me, curiosity forcing my steps to still. I glance over my shoulder.
“What is that?” she asks, her brow furrowing as she stares at me, her voice trailing off.
My eyes narrow. “What’s what?”
“That light around you,” she says, her gaze distant, her lids half-closed as though seeing something beyond what I can. “That…shimmer.”
My heart stumbles in its rhythm, the beat thundering in my ears. I turn slowly to face her, every muscle taut. “What did you say?”
Amara steps toward me, her movements fluid, almost dreamlike. The wind catches her hair, sending it tumbling over her shoulders, and the long grass sways in harmony with the fabric of her dress. For a moment, she’s otherworldly, a vision so radiant it steals the breath from my lungs.
Her hand rises toward my face. I flinch before her fingers can make contact.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve… I’ve seen it before.”
The words send a jolt through me, and without thinking, I step back. I never step back.
“I’m leaving,” I say quickly, the urgency in my voice betraying me.
“No, wait!” she calls again, closing the distance faster than I expect.
Her hand reaches up, dirt and all, cupping the side of my face with a gentleness that makes me freeze.
The moment her hand touches my skin, something fierce awakens within me, a surge of heat that rushes through my veins, burning away the cold, hollow darkness that has lived in me for so long.