Chapter 23
Reader Temple
Incense smoke floated through the air like ribbons dancing in the wind, leaving the room heavy with the scents of heated honey and clean air after a rain.
Savita had hoped that burning the hardened, amber-gold resin of the solleaf tree would ease the tension she hadn’t been able to shake.
But not even her favorite incense worked today.
She rose, ignoring the fresh cup of tea she had just poured, and walked to her dressing table.
Her fingers trailed along the top before she sank onto the stool and stared at herself in the mirror.
The first time she had drawn the gold sun on her forehead, marking her as a Reader, had been a day of celebration and joy.
Readers were warned never to ask the runes about their future, but of course, all of them did.
The runes hadn’t given her any answers about her own life, but they had warned her about Esha’s.
Now, her sister was mated to a Dragon King and living among them, far from Shecrish. Where did that leave her?
Savita picked up the small brush with the pointed bristles and, with meticulous care, dipped it into the bottle of gold paint before drawing a thin line from the outer corner of each eye to her temple.
Once that was done, she cleaned the brush and set it aside before finding the larger one and marking each collarbone with five gold dots.
Only after the second brush was clean and carefully stored with the others did she cap the bottle of paint.
She glided her hands down each side of her head from the part of her tawny hair down the middle, ensuring that not a single strand that fell to the middle of her back was out of place.
With a sigh, she stood and straightened the long, flowing, white sleeveless gown that was the uniform of the Readers.
The only color came from the golden belt at her waist and the golden stole she diligently draped over each arm, adjusting it so the ends reached the hem of her dress.
Winter was upon Shecrish. No matter how large the fire in the hearth was, it never fully chased away the chill. The land slept during the cold months, slumbering through the snow and ice. How she wished she could join in. Her heart was heavy, and she wasn’t sure why.
She turned her head toward the table where she had laid out the square black cloth from her last reading. She hadn’t touched the runes after they fell from her hands the night before. Before she realized it, she stood in front of the table, looking down at the runes. The message was still the same.
He’s coming.
They could be warning her about anyone. The fact that their message was so ambiguous only made her worry grow.
It had upset her so much that she had left the runes and promptly gone to bed.
But there hadn’t been any sleep. She had tossed and turned all night, her brain sorting through people and conversations, trying to glean who it might be.
Savita gathered all twenty-eight of the white runes with their gold markings and cupped them in her hands. “I need to know more. A face. A name. Something,” she implored. “You’ve never let me down. Help me in my quest to best the Masters.”
She closed her eyes and held the runes close to her before extending her arms and releasing her hands. The runes clattered against the cloth and scattered before coming to rest. Her mouth fell open when she read the same message.
He’s coming.
“Who?” she begged.
A sharp rap against her door interrupted the reading. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back for a heartbeat. She could ignore whoever it was. No one would force their way inside. Besides, she wasn’t in the mood for company.
Another knock came, and her eyes went to the runes.
Could it be who they predicted? She turned her head to the door and stared at it as if she could see through the thick plank of wood.
The third knock got her moving. She put her hand on the knob but hesitated as a tremor of warning ran down her spine.
Savita yanked open the door and found herself staring at a Star Elf.
She was instantly drawn to the deep purple of his eyes. His gaze was intense and bold. Still.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.
The hair on her body stood on end as his voice brushed against her senses, low and even—a vibration that lingered in the air long after the words were gone.
Each word landed like a strike of flint—controlled, deliberate, and threaded with something she couldn’t name.
Not charm. Not authority. Something older, quieter.
Her fingers tightened on the door as she debated whether to slam it in his face. This stranger spelled danger in every way, but she couldn’t look away from his mesmerizing gaze. His presence filled the room, and he hadn’t even taken a step inside.
He bowed his head, breaking their eye contact. The top portion of his long, silver hair was fastened at the back of his head, the ends falling forward over his shoulders. He remained in the bow, waiting. It was a sign of respect that she hadn’t seen in some time.
“Rise,” she bade.
He slowly straightened, giving her time to take in his features.
Sharp cheekbones sat high and stern with a defined chin.
The angle of his jaw was almost architectural, as though sculpted for precision rather than softness.
His mouth was a contradiction. The upper lip was firm and controlled.
The lower, just full enough to betray the softness.
It wasn’t a handsome face. It was one of predatory beauty.
A type of elegance that was impossible to forget.
He was lean and tall. His shoulders broad, his posture straight. He exuded a quiet confidence. Elegant, sharp, and timeless. Every movement was measured. Controlled. Tempered like steel, folded to create the sharpest blade.
She found herself gazing into his purple eyes once more.
Their stillness was hypnotic, and she found herself wondering what thoughts might be going through his mind.
There was restraint in every inch of him, which was why her heart missed a beat at the sight of the slight curve of his lips—as if he knew she liked what she saw.
“Why have you sought me out?” she demanded.
His smile grew at her icy tone. “Allow me inside, and I’ll tell you.”
This was a pivotal moment. She could shut the door and forget him.
She’d never see him again with that kind of reaction.
If she allowed him inside, there would be no turning back.
No matter what had brought him to her door, no matter what he shared, she could never erase it.
She thought about the runes’ message and the request she’d made.
Was he the one they had alerted her about?
Could he be someone who could help her against the Masters?
Savita pushed the door wide and dropped her arm to her side.
He walked past her with a quiet certainty.
She turned with him as the faint shimmer of his tunic caught the sunlight.
Clothing always told a story, but his wasn’t so easy to discern.
His clothing was neither rich nor humble.
Layers of silk and fine cotton in indigo, deep pewter, and silver covered him, without being ornamental.
As if every thread and fold had been chosen with purpose.
He stopped next to her table of runes. She closed the door and watched as he looked over the stones. After a moment, he looked around her rooms before finally turning to face her. Even from across the space, she felt the silence surrounding him.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
His words—measured, low, and unfathomably calm—filled the space between them. “Should I?”
“I thought the runes might have told you.”
She glanced at the table, preferring not to confirm or deny anything. “Who are you?”
“Someone who can help.”
“With what?”
Those amazing lips of his curved slightly again. “I wondered if I would like this banter between us. I confess, I do.”
His reply took her aback, leaving her wordless.
He issued a soft snort. “You aren’t at all what I expected.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It is.”
She tried to look away from his gaze but found she couldn’t. “Who are you?”
“Someone who can help.”
“You’ve already said that. Tell me what you want to help with.”
His smile vanished as he took a step toward her. “The problem you’re attempting to solve.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”
“You don’t want me to do that.”
Silence lengthened between them. Savita had stood before many individuals who wielded power and control like weapons, but they paled in comparison to the elf before her. He was something altogether different, and it both frightened and thrilled her.
He took another step closer. “This is a one-time offer. I won’t extend it again.”
“I would be the greatest kind of fool to accept whatever it is you’re proposing without knowing specifics.”
“It’s prudent of you to be wary,” he replied.
She lifted her foot, ready to walk toward him, and only stopped herself at the last second. “And still, you tell me nothing.”
“I’ve told you a great deal.”
Savita lifted a brow. “Is that so?”
He took another step. “It is. Would you feel better if you read the runes?”
“Is that why you came here? For a reading? I don’t do that.”
“I did not,” he said with a single shake of his head. “There’s no need to read what I already know.”
She was surprised by his statement, only to realize that another Reader must have looked into his life. “Since you won’t tell me your name or the reason you’ve offered to help, I must ask you to leave.”
“That’s a pity. I took you for someone much smarter than that.”
His gaze moved over her shoulder as he headed toward the door. The absence of his intense attention made it feel as if a shadow had swallowed her. Yet it was also a relief since her lungs loosened enough for her to breathe.
She told herself not to move as he headed toward her, but her eyes wouldn’t obey.
Then he halted beside her, so close his arm brushed her shoulder.
She turned her head to meet his gaze and was consumed by it.
The color wasn’t simply a dark purple. His eyes were a violet so deep it bordered on darkness with faint strands of luminous lavender within.
“You need to be careful,” he warned.
“Did the Mas—?”
“Savita,” he said over her, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Don’t speak of them.”
She faced him then. “Who are you?”
He sighed and looked toward the door. “I already told you. I came to help.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t trust anyone.” He glanced at her, a subtle smile playing at one corner of his mouth.
Was she a fool to consider hearing him out? Maybe. But then she had asked the runes for help. “Why do you want to help me? You could go to anyone.”
“I could.” He looked at her. “But I chose you.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, his lips twisting. “Call it a hunch.”
“This could be a trap.”
“It could be. Or I could be the one person who could tip the scales in your favor.”
She walked to the runes and gathered them once more before dropping them. She stared down at the answer for a long time.
“What did they tell you?” he asked.
Savita looked his way. “I accept your offer.”