Chapter 9
KATANA
S weat covered Katana’s brow and dampened her hairline.
She gasped, clutching her chest and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
Another terrible dream sent her heart racing.
She couldn’t shake the image even now as the sun shone through her window.
It had been the same nightmare for two days in a row—Katana had been on her knees, pressing her palms over the wound as if it would stop the blood gushing down her body, staining her white silk dress.
She was screaming and screaming, her throat raw from it.
Synick stood in the corner laughing. Atlanta had sat in his chair watching her suffer, sipping on a drink, no emotion, no movement, as she cried for him to help her.
This was her mind reliving the past; the only difference was Atlanta had not been there when she died.
She’d been alone. Synick left her dying, alone.
Trying to catch her breath, Katana rushed to the balcony doors and threw them open for fresh air.
They told her she’d been gone thousands of years, but it felt like a lie.
To her, it was as if she’d gone to sleep lying in a pool of her own blood and had then woken up when she stood confused in the middle of Valeen’s territory.
Though she vaguely felt the gap of time and remembered being called to step through a bright portal. It was more a feeling than anything.
But the night of her death she knew vividly and had been forced to relive the sticky blood on her palms, the desperate pleas, begging Synick to help her.
Asking why he would do this. They were primordials.
They’d been with each other since the beginning…
he was supposed to be her friend, to protect her, not harm her.
More than anything that was what plagued her the most—why? Why would he do that to her? Where had he gotten a weapon that even could? It had never existed before.
A strange sensation rose up in her throat like something was coming up and she cupped her hand over her mouth, leaning over the edge of the balcony.
Was this what mortals called nausea? Taking deep inhales through the nose, breathing in crisp cool air, made the sensation slowly subside.
A set of guards walked by below and she ducked.
Breathe, breathe.
She was told Synick was locked up in a dungeon. He couldn’t get to her. She’d said this over and over, but it hadn’t helped. Even with the reassurance of him being bound, too loud of a noise would make her jump. A shadow cast from a flickering candle would raise panic.
Worst of all, she was more vulnerable than before.
She felt the weakness in the very marrow of her bones.
An immortal body did not tire climbing stairs, did not feel exhaustion from lack of sleep.
A goddess slept, but if she didn’t, she wouldn’t weaken.
It was more to clear the mind, not to restore the body.
Her hands trembled even now—from what, she didn’t know.
Her stomach ached and made a strange gurgling sound, an entirely new sensation.
Once, she ate food for pleasure, not to survive, and being in an entirely new place with strangers and the only person she knew asleep for days, she ignored the signs.
She wanted to pretend that she was not—mortal.
Mortals required food and water, and she hadn’t eaten much since she arrived.
Maybe subconsciously she hadn’t eaten as a test to herself, trying to prove she wasn’t in this strange fragile body, that the weakness would go away, and that her strength would return.
She made her way back into the bedroom she’d been given, opened a desk drawer and found a silver letter opener.
Gripping the handle, she jabbed the point of it into her palm.
The sting sent a shock up her arm. Blood beaded up and she waited for it to close.
She shouldn’t have even been able to pierce her flesh with such a flimsy thing, and the wound should close instantly, but a crimson trail slid across her skin and plopped onto the floor.
Was this a nightmare? Everything was wrong.
Had she actually come back to the realms? Or had she dreamed it all?
Valeen—she must find her. If she found her sister, she would know it was real.
Panic wrapped its horrible hand around her chest, and she dashed out of the room, down the hallway, bare feet slapping against the cold stone.
Strangers’ portraits on the walls passed by her in a blur.
Nothing was familiar here. Not the smells, not the people.
Even the sounds of the birds were different.
There were no gulls. The sun wasn’t as intense.
Where were the ocean waves crashing against black sand to soothe her? Her home was on the cliffs where the sea air made her skin damp, and the salt lingered on her lips.
She bolted around a corner and slammed into someone. Her arms flailed, attempting to catch her balance before tipping backward.
Strong hands caught her around the waist and held her steady. She lifted her chin and found familiar emerald-green eyes staring back at her. Long dark hair framed a handsome but surprised face.
Shaking, she touched his smooth cheek. His skin was supple and warm. Soft breath parted his full lips. His dark brows furrowed in confusion.
She knew him but… “Are you real?” she whispered.
The corner of his mouth lifted into a slight curve. “Yes, I am real.”
Slowly, she moved her hand down to his chest and pressed her palm flat above his heart, a steady thud, thud, thud, beat there. If it were a dream, she wouldn’t find a heartbeat so strong.
“Are you hurt? Did something happen?” His deep voice sent a tremble down to her gut. He sounded real, felt real. As if the hazy worry lifted away, every sense she possessed sharpened.
She was once again in the land of the living.
This was the realm of Adalon, home of the elves, and she stood before the god of war also known as Thane, the High King of the elves.
She lifted her hand off his chest and turned it over to find the self-inflicted wound on her palm had stopped bleeding, but it was sore and still bright red. Before she could tuck away the wound, he took hold of her wrist and opened her fingers. “How did this happen?”
“I–I did it.”
“Why would you hurt yourself?”
She glanced down, recalling she was wearing a short, thin nightgown. Too embarrassed to admit why she stabbed her own hand and was racing through the halls questioning reality. “I am looking for Valeen.”
“She’s here but do you need to sit down?” His brows furrowed as he inspected her further, seeing deeper. “Can I get you some water?”
Her mouth was dry, and her throat ached from what she suspected was dehydration. “No, I will be fine. I–I had a nightmare and now it seems silly.”
She pulled out of his grasp and started back down the corridor to her guest chambers, heat working its way up her neck. Someone had left a pitcher of water on the bedside table and a tray of snacks, and she’d rather eat that than burden Thane. Surely, he had better things to do.
“Katana, wait.” She hadn’t had much interaction with him, or anyone since they’d arrived here a few days ago. “Tell me about it.”
“It is nothing.”
“You asked me if I was real… I don’t think it’s nothing.”
She took in a sharp breath and came to a slow stop.
Shame worked its way up her throat. Would he think she was losing her mind?
She couldn’t meet his eyes when she confessed, “I keep having the same dream of Synick killing me, and then I thought maybe all this was also a dream, and I had to see someone else. I had to…”
“You’re here in Palenor. It’s real.”
“I know that now.”
“I should have checked on you sooner. I assumed since you didn’t come out of your room except to check on Valeen you wanted space.” He lifted a hand toward her but then curled his fingers and dropped his arm to his side.
Space away from everyone was likely the reason she felt this way in the first place. “You do not need to apologize.”
“Is it because he’s here? We can move him somewhere else, but I give you my word he is well guarded. He won’t hurt you.”
Atlanta would have told her to quit whining about nothing, and yet Thane offered to move Synick somewhere else entirely simply because she was having nightmares.
“I trust you know what you are doing.”
His face softened. “Would it help if I moved you into the room next to Valeen? It’s my old room. You can be close to her.”
Katana’s legs seemed to weaken as the rush of panic wore off. She had never felt like this before and reached for the wall to hold herself steady. “I cannot ask you to give up your room.”
“I already gave it up. No one sleeps there now.”
“Why did you give it up?”
He tilted his head slightly to one side. “Because Valeen and Hel are right next to it.”
She had yet to learn the details of what his relationship to Valeen was.
A past lover was all she knew. Most of the last two days she’d sat in her room waiting for Valeen to wake up.
“Thank you. I will think about it.” She was in an entirely different wing than her sister and this castle was vast, easy to get lost in.
“You look a little pale. Have you eaten?”
“Oh, umm, I ate an apple a couple of days ago. I think.” The corridor around her started to spin and she closed her eyes, pressing her head back against the cold wall. Warm fingers closed around her wrist.
“I’m a terrible host. Let’s get you something to eat.”
She wrapped her arm around his, leaning on him more than she would have liked.
In the dining hall, Thane pulled out a seat for her and then sat at the head of the table.
A male servant with a silver tray in hand entered through a side door.
Another came in after and pulled open the velvet blue curtains, allowing in sunshine and a wonderful view of the lush, green castle grounds.