Lightbringer

Chapter 7 Lyra

Lyra

Iam… not dead.

I keep my breathing steady, my eyes closed, even as the pain pushes in. Staying still, I attempt to assess through the cloud that hovers over my thoughts.

A dull ache radiates from my stomach, but it’s nothing compared to the sharp, searing agony in my hands. I feel my face twitch before I smooth it out.

My hands.

Cindral—

He staked me.

The village. The boy. Tharn. Thick, scarlet blood, spraying across clean snow. It all tumbles in, one after the other as I try to make sense of where I am and why I’m so… warm.

Instead of ice and snow beneath me, I appear to be in some sort of bed. And I’m not alone. The realisation hits, and my muscles lock without warning, tensing up.

Darkwielders.

They found me. And whatever plan my father and Cindral cooked up between them without bothering to involve me appears to have at least been mildly successful, because instead of killing me on the spot, they brought me here.

Wherever here is.

Swallowing, I take in the warmth pressed to my back, the low huff of breathing in my ear. I don’t appear to be wearing any clothes. Listening to the soft sound, I gingerly attempt to flex my fingers.

Bad idea.

My hiss is low, but the breathing stutters. Behind me, and… in front of me.

Two of them?

“You’re awake.”

At the quiet words, I debate keeping my eyes closed, but I need to see where I am. I let my eyes flutter, feign a dazed expression, a little slackness around my mouth.

The deep blue eyes that meet mine are surprisingly familiar. They crinkle at the edges. “Welcome back.”

I study him. It’s the male from the clearing.

His hair is dark, messy, rumpled chaos, sticking out everywhere in a way that would get him disciplined in Solvandyr.

The dark fissures tracing his skin that mark him as a Darkwielder travel over his face in elegant marks that continue down his neck and across his bare chest. I tear my eyes away.

I’m not going to hurt you.

And it appears he hasn’t. Still, my pulse quickens. Testing, I shift my legs, surreptitiously checking for any sign of… that.

“You were dying.” He keeps his voice level as I swing my gaze back to him. “The cold… we had to warm you up quickly. Your dress was soaked through. That’s all.”

“I would like to point out that I was strongly against this plan.” The almost sleepy words murmured in my ear make me tense again. “I’m not in the habit of climbing into bed with naked women who can’t consent.”

“Darian.” The other male sighs. “You’re not helping.”

When he shifts, a rush of cold air hits my skin. Instinctively, I flinch back, into the warmth behind me. “Where am I?”

The hoarse words sound barely audible.

“Umbraxis,” the blue-eyed male says carefully. “You’re in Umbraxis. My name is Eres, and this is Darian.”

“Pleasure,” the voice murmurs again. “And you would be?”

I lick my dry lips. Eres follows the movement, a dip between his brows. “Lyra.”

A moment of silence passes.

“Well, Lyra,” Darian shifts behind me. “You seem quite warm and alive to me, so I’ll just—”

“Stay,” Eres says, holding up his hand. “Lyra, do you remember what happened?”

I slowly nod. “They burned the village.”

The children. The screams.

“They?” Eres’s voice sharpens. “Not you?”

I shake my head once more. “I tried to stop them.”

And I failed. My throat grows thick. “I couldn’t stop them.”

I wonder if the boy escaped. I hope so. I hope he’s not lost in the Veilspire, alone and wandering. Maybe he found another village.

The back of my eyes burn, and I don’t try to hide it from them. “What happens to me now?”

I need a new plan.

I had planned to slip inside Umbraxis under my own steam. To make my way to Kaelen Duskbane, story prepared, and ask for sanctuary.

This is not what I planned. To wake up injured and naked, pressed between two Darkwielders who actually seem concerned for my wellbeing.

Reassess.

Find Kaelen Duskbane.

Act weak. Delicate. Vulnerable.

The two men exchange glances over my head. Eres opens his mouth—

The hammering sound that echoes around us makes all three of us jump.

“Fuck.” Behind me, Darian stiffens. “Eres—”

Before he can say any more, a muffled roar sounds, and I twist my head in time to see the large, carved wooden door crack. The wood creaks, the crack appearing down the center.

“Uh.” Eres’s eyes widen. “We should—”

Between one breath and the next, the door flies open, smashing against the wall. I shrink back into the wall of flesh behind me as a third male appears at the entrance. His gaze swings wildly, taking the three of us in.

This is the kind of Darkwielder I expected.

Shadows wreath his arms, twisting and unfurling from the palms of his hands.

He’s… huge. Wide in the shoulder, tall enough that he almost fills the doorway entirely.

The sleek, almost delicate shadow-lines that mark Eres and Darian’s skin are reflected in the male who stops to stare at me, except his are deeper.

Darker. Rougher, almost as if someone has carved him with a knife.

The black leathers he wears cover most of them.

Silver eyes, flecked with black lines and full of anger. Dark hair, cropped close to his head.

My eyes drop to the moonlit skin of his throat, searching for confirmation.

There.

The shadowed veins against his skin form a recognizable crest. An obsidian ring crossed with thin jagged lines and a hollow center. One that I’ve studied too many times to count.

Kaelen Duskbane.

Crown prince of Umbraxis. Heir to the Darkwielder throne.

And my target.

The shadows in his palms swell and grow.

“What,” he says finally, “the fuck is going on?”

Eres clears his throat. “Hypothermia.”

Two dark eyebrows raise. “Hypothermia.”

He takes a single step into the room. There’s an energy to his movements that feels unlike anything else I’ve ever encountered. The hairs on my arms stand on end, as if there’s a storm in the air.

“Kaelen,” Eres murmurs. I glance at him, gauging his reaction. He doesn’t seem frightened. Almost amused, if anything. My eyes move between them as Kaelen stalks forward. Eres’s arm shoots out, and he stops.

I glance down, to where his arm stretches over me. Protective? “Stop that. You’re scaring her.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. Duskbane stops. His head turns to me slowly, tilting to the side. “When Nythen told me you’d brought back a Lightbringer, I didn’t expect to find it in your bed.”

Act vulnerable.

My eyes widen, and I press myself back into Darian’s chest, dropping my gaze.

It’s not entirely an act. He’s more intimidating than I ever imagined.

“She’s injured,” Eres argues. “I need to examine her.”

“With no clothes on,” Duskbane drawls. “In your bed.”

Behind me, Darian is shifting. “I’m going to just—”

“And you.” Duskbane rounds on us, aiming his snarl over my head. “Get the fuck out.”

Darian stiffens. I feel the bed shift beneath us, the warmth at my back disappearing. “I’m going.”

Any amusement has disappeared from Eres’s expression. “That is enough.”

He stands, crossing his arms and facing off with Duskbane. “She needed help, and I needed Darian.”

It feels as though I’ve dropped into the middle of something… personal. Frowning, I attempt to sit up. All three gazes snap to me at the low groan that catches in my throat.

Eres physically shoves the prince aside before addressing me. To my surprise, he allows it. “Lay back down, Lyra. I need to check your stomach and hands. Kae, you need to leave.”

That doesn’t go down well. The shadows grow and swell further until the prince is surrounded by them. “I’m not going anywhere. Nythen has called a full Council session, and my mother is attending. The Lightbringer is required.”

Disgust drips from his words, his mouth twisting as if he tastes something vile. The prince studies me as if I’m something he’s trodden in. “I’ve been sent to deliver it.”

“Well, she’s not well enough to attend.”

“Then patch it up.”

“I have,” Eres snaps. “But my erevas is limited on her.”

Duskbane only shrugs. “Not our problem. It doesn’t look like it’s dying now. That’s good enough for me.”

It.

I press my lips together and focus on Eres, since he seems to at least be some sort of ally. He offers me a brief smile, his hand gentle as it presses against my shoulder. “Lay down, please. Can I take a look?”

My eyes shift past him, to silver depths and derision. Kaelen Duskbane doesn’t look away, his glare threatening to burn another hole in my body.

I shrug silently.

“Turn around.” Eres addresses Duskbane over my shoulder. “If you insist on staying, give her some privacy.”

I watch his mouth drop open. “Excuse me?”

“Kaelen, so help me—”

“Fine.” He hisses it, irritation showing in every movement as he turns to face the wall, folding his arms. “Bare minimum, Eres. We have to go.”

I turn my head to the other side of the bed.

Darian stands against the wall, his clothes back in place.

My eyes take in the shadows carved into his skin.

He stands silently, amethyst eyes glittering as he stares at Duskbane’s back.

He’s leaner than the prince, taller than Eres.

His gaze shifts as if he can feel me watching, and he offers me a tight-lipped smile before addressing Eres.

“If I’m not needed, I’ll go and meet you at Council. Maybe I can stall them.”

Eres nods. “Thanks for your help.”

The silence that emanates from the other side of the room when the battered door slams once more feels like a physical chill against my skin.

Eres peels back the coverlet, his hands hovering without actually touching me. I follow his gaze to my stomach, sucking in a breath.

The shadows look as though they’re bound, or sewn, into my skin. Dark threads form a lattice effect, criss-crossing across my stomach in a strange sort of dressing. Craning my head, I attempt to get a closer look. I’ve never seen anything like it before.

“Whatever stabbed you, they twisted it,” Eres explains quietly. “It tore some of your insides. I was able to use my erevas to build a shield around the damaged parts to protect them while you heal, but you’ll be sore for a while.”

Frowning, I attempt to follow. “Erevas?”

He holds up his hand. A small dark shadow flickers to life, hovering in the centre of his palm like a flame before he snaps his hand closed and it vanishes. “Erevas is what we call it. The equivalent would be your luminth.”

Nodding, I attempt to call some of my own, testing to see if the effects of the darts have worn off. The resulting burn pulls a cry from my throat, and Eres’s hand wraps around my wrist. “Stop. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

But I’m staring at my bandaged hands. The cloth covers most of my palm and halfway up my fingers to just below my knuckles. And above them…my fingers are the wrong color. Almost blue, darker still at the tips. “Is it… permanent? This damage?”

I’m not feigning the trembling in my voice when I look to Eres for an answer.

“I don’t know yet.” The words are gentle.

He’s still holding my wrist. “It’s possible.

There’s a lot that I can try before we reach that conclusion.

But the stakes went through your hands, Lyra, and then there’s the frostnip.

There is a lot of damage. Our gifts are different enough that there may be limitations to what I can do. ”

Permanent is not a word that I’m used to hearing when it comes to pain, or scars. I’m familiar with pain—more than familiar, enough that it rarely scares me anymore. I’ve seen much worse than this painted across my body.

But it’s never been permanent.

I find that nothing has ever scared me quite as much as that word.

A skilled Lightbringer would be able to heal it. But there are no Lightbringers here.

“It can’t cast?” At the harsh demand, we both look up. Duskbane has turned around. I pull up my arms to hide my chest, but he’s not looking at my body. His eyes are on my bandaged hands.

Eres shakes his head. “Not right now, at least.”

“Good.” There’s nothing but cold, calculating hatred behind his silver eyes. “Get it dressed. We need to go.”

I flinch away, watching the frown deepen between his eyes as I lean closer to Eres.

The healer is kind enough. Kinder than most, I would wager. Darian didn’t seem inclined to hurt me either.

But this male makes no attempt to hide his hatred of me. Of all Lightbringers. He presents himself exactly as I expected from my teachings. Boorish, cold, inflexible and arrogant.

And powerful. It almost leaks from him, as if he bears too much to contain in one body.

This male, I will have no qualms in ending. For Reena, I would even kill him with a smile.

But if I have no luminth, thanks to Cindral, the only question is how.