Chapter 2 #3
Merric huffs and opens his mouth to retort, but Soren’s resounding voice cuts through the rising chatter.
“Enough! We can figure out the specifics later. Right now, we need to focus on spreading the word without causing pandemonium. We need as many strong fae as possible to stand a chance against the dark king.”
The room falls silent and my cheeks heat at Soren’s authority. I love the way he can be reserved and introspective one moment and passionately speak his mind the next.
Thorn’s voice smooths over the tense energy of the room like soothing balm. “Yes, we will make those decisions at another time. For now, we just need to gather support from the community and mitigate distress.”
Merric folds his thick arms across his chest and gives a curt nod. When Thorn casts his eyes on Numara, she raises her hands in mock surrender and grins. Estis glares back at him, looking utterly disinterested, and Moira looks shocked and slightly terrified.
The tension in the room hangs heavy, like a suffocating fog. Electricity charges the air, each inhale tinged with a tangible anticipation. The weight of everyone’s emotions press upon me, like an invisible force field that threatens my crumbling confidence.
Soren squeezes my hand, and a mix of comfort and fear floods my senses. His touch, usually a source of solace, now serves as a stark reminder of the impending confrontation. But the subtle pressure of his grip grounds me, reminding me I’m not alone in this.
But even his reassuring presence can’t quell the gnawing unease clawing in my stomach.
I long to escape this suffocating atmosphere, to retreat to a place where the weight of emotions doesn’t sit like a shroud of lead. But I remain rooted, my hand still clasped in Soren’s, drawing strength from his touch.
I’m sure Clara can hear my racing heart and anxious thoughts from across the table.
She looks at me with a glint in her eye and stands, her gentle maternal energy settling over the space like a warm blanket.
“Well, now. I think it’s the perfect time for us to take a break for dinner.
I’ve told the tavern to expect us, so let us go fill our bellies and put aside this discussion for now. ”
She beams at me, and I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing I don’t have to entertain the guests for a meal. My insides are so twisted that I don’t know if I can stomach food right now.
Merric rises to his feet and wastes no time in following Clara out of the room. He gives me one final resentful look before he leaves.
Numara rises gracefully from her chair and rounds the table to me.
She is even more beautiful up close, and I can’t help but stare.
One corner of her mouth curves higher than the other.
“Miss Aurora, what an unfortunate time for you to have wandered into our world.” Her dark eyes flash to Soren standing by my side, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back.
“Or perhaps you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. ”
Her gaze shifts back to me and I smile weakly at her. “Yes, it’s been quite the whirlwind since I’ve arrived.” I sigh and lean into Soren. “I just trust that whatever happens, it will all work out in the end.”
Numara tilts her head to the side while she studies me. “There’s the human optimism I’ve heard so much about.”
I swallow, reminded that I’m an outsider here.
Soren stiffens beside me. Her eyes soften as she looks at him. “Well, I suppose I shall join the other heathens for dinner. Soren, a pleasure, as always.”
Soren bows slightly before she strides out of the room, hooking arms with Estis, who smirks at me before leaning in to whisper something in her ear. My cheeks flare with heat.
Sometimes I wish I had Clara’s fae gift of The Listening. As a human outsider in a fae world, it would be nice to know what some people are thinking sometimes. Or maybe it’s best not carrying that burden.
Soren follows the group out of the room and to the front door.
When the voices dissolve into silence, an overwhelming heaviness settles upon me.
I brace myself against the edge of the table, my shoulders burdened with the weight of knowing what is coming, yet being heartbreakingly unprepared for it.
My ancestors may have been half-blooded fae, but I’m not from here. I have powers but barely know how to use them. I have strong, kind, and powerful fae friends and yet I stand alone as the only human.
I blow out a shaky breath as I work to steady myself. I have to be strong. If not for me, then for him. For the one I sacrificed everything for.
Soren saunters back into the dining room. The setting sun has cast the room into shadowed darkness, and he moves around the space, lighting candles.
I straighten, the corner of my lips curling slightly as I watch him. “Are we dining here tonight?”
He turns to me from beside a sideboard beneath the window across the room. Hot wax drips down the length of the lit candle in his hand, falling silently to the stone floor. The flickering light drapes his face in shadow, which contrasts with his glowing golden eyes.
He grins at me with a darkened expression. “Oh, I will feast here tonight.”