Chapter 12
I’m dying a slow, excruciating death. A death caused by an ailment that is beyond my understanding as a healer, and without my full power, I am fated to succumb to it.
Jaxon’s tonic against seasickness left my system shortly after we sailed away from the ship.
Now I lay with my head resting against the edge of the dinghy, eyes squeezed shut, legs curled into my chest, wishing for Orun, the God of Health, to have mercy on my soul and calm my stomach.
Sweat sticks to my skin, mingling with salty spray that peppers my face. The cool water would be refreshing if its scent didn’t remind me of the monster that pulled me into the ocean depths hours ago. At least, that’s how long I think it’s been.
It’s hard to know how much time has passed with the thick clouds blocking out the sun’s movement across the sky.
The minutes drag on as the dinghy floats over the stretch of endless blue ocean. Rian and Silas have been paddling since the moment the boat hit the water.
If I dared open my eyes, I’d scan the horizon and see Darius and Draven’s dinghy not so far away.
A map would be laid out over the bench in front of Silas, along with a bronze compass he’s using to navigate the unmarked sea.
And I’d have to fight the urge to admire Rian’s enticing physique as he rows.
Inhaling a deep breath, I push down the bile crawling up my throat and focus on trying to relax my churning gut.
“I’m not meant for manual labor.” Silas’s voice penetrates the sound of the oars slicing through the water.
“Use your shadows if your delicate hands can’t handle a little rowing,” Rian returns with a lilt of amusement.
Inwardly, I snort. Silas may be the leanest of the Shadow Fae, but he’s anything but delicate. He’s as much a Fae predator as the rest of them.
Silas huffs. “Some of us can’t wield our magic so effortlessly, Your Highness.”
“If you practiced your magic as much as you studied your books, you wouldn’t be saying that. And we wouldn’t have been forced to muck out the royal stalls for months when we were children.”
“Are you still angry about that? You were the one who challenged the lieutenant’s scribe to a duel with me.”
“Yes, and it was a duel you should have won.”
“I’m not the one who stole the lieutenant's prized mare for a horse race against Darius,” Silas counters.
“No, but your inability to keep quiet is the only reason we were caught.”
“That’s a lie!”
Sunlight peeks through the clouds, shining on my eyelids. I wince and tuck my face into the crook of my arm.
Rian and Silas continue to speak, their voices an oddly soothing rhythm compared to the churning sea rocking my body.
I don’t know when or how, but I fall asleep.
I dream of the Forbidden Forest.
Of Juniper’s cottage.
Of the hidden alcove under her floorboard where she kept the Fae text that now sits under my bench.
My childhood home comes into sharp focus, and I turn to my adoptive mother and voice the questions I wished I’d asked before being forced from my town.
How did you know my birth parents?
Why did they possess contraband Fae texts?
Was their magic like mine…or Ferria’s?
Juniper cups my face.
Her touch is solid. Too real.
“You will have your answers,” she says softly. “But not from me.”
A chill snakes down my spine.
“Then from whom?”
Her smile falters.
The cottage flickers.
A protest forms on my lips, but a splash of seawater hits me in my face, yanking me out of my vivid dream.
I bolt upright, coughing and sputtering. My vision blurs. I blink over and over, and it takes several seconds to realize what’s different about my surroundings.
I’m still bouncing on an endless blue ocean, but a makeshift tent has been erected overhead.
Two sheathed swords are tied to the oarlock on either side of me. A black tunic stretches between them, one sleeve anchored to the back of the dinghy with a gleaming silver dagger.
I reach up and run my fingertips over the soft material just a few inches above my head. Then, like a moth to a flame, my gaze drops and finds Rian.
My mouth goes dry.
I’d glimpsed his impressive physique back in the forest clearing, and again in the ship’s cabin, but right now, with his olive-toned skin glistening with sweat, the sun’s rays shining down on every hard line etched into his naked torso, my heart skips a beat.
Light strikes his hair, revealing purplish highlights. His biceps, abs, and pecs flex as he leans back and pulls the oar.
Every inch of Rian is perfection, and the assertion that Fae were crafted by the Old Gods in their image has never been more believable.
His eyes shift to meet mine. I drop my chin.
Stop, Elara.
This lack of self-control is nothing short of irritating. I need to get it together. Now.
Resolved, I reach for my satchel and retrieve the diary from my bundle of clothes.
Rian’s lingering stare heats my cheeks, but he doesn’t speak. Likely because Silas sleeps on the bench between us. The scholarly Fae’s arms are crossed, his long legs bent to stay within the boat. Quiet snores rise into the air with every inhale.
Ignoring the prince, I open the book, careful to angle the pages so Rian can’t see, and flip to the entry after the writer revealed her father is of royal blood. Which means so is she.
Is this female Rian’s aunt, perhaps? Or maybe a great-great-grandmother?
I have no sense of when this text was written, other than that it was written before the Shadow Wars began.
But after seeing Port City and learning of Sea Fae, Mountain Fae, and Virendrell… There's so much of the past I haven't been taught. There’s so much more to learn.
And I’m determined to do so.
The Third Day of the Mother’s Twinning Moon
Father failed to mention that the esteemed guest we’ve been preparing to host is none other than the heir to the human throne.
And that he is incredibly handsome.
I wish I had taken greater care with the gown Mother insisted I wear. The lavender silk is beautiful, of course, but it’s too soft. Too girlish.
I do not want the prince to see me as a girl. I have lived twenty summers. Young, perhaps, by my kind’s standards, but grown in every way that matters.
And the moment I saw the prince standing among his fellow travelers, tall and composed, my heart skipped a beat.
I could not breathe.
Could not move.
Could not look away.
And when he smiled at me, my soul sang.
The prince is human. I am not. This pull should not exist.
Yet as I write this from my chambers, the memory of his eyes remains, burned bright behind my lids. I am burdened with the quiet, aching certainty that our meeting was not chance but divine design.
If this is the beginning of my undoing, then let it come. For I have never wanted anything the way I already want him.
My pulse thrums in my ears. I read the entry over and over again, certain I am misunderstanding the writer’s words.
The human prince visited the Fae. That is shocking, but not nearly as shocking as the feelings she described.
They are undeniably similar to how my power responds to Rian.
I dare a glance up and suck in a breath.
The Shadow Prince’s oars slice through the sea in smooth, even strokes. His torso leans forward then arches back gracefully, muscles rippling. He does it all while holding my stare.
My pulse continues to race, beating through my veins like a drum.
I should continue reading the diary to learn more—to see if the author puts a name to the unsettling emotions she described upon meeting the human prince.
To see if I can figure out why it feels next to impossible to look away from Rian’s silver-flecked stare.
But what if I don’t like what I find?
I bite my bottom lip.
Rian’s shadows have been lying dormant on his shoulders, draped over his back like a cape. Now they twitch.
Heat floods into my veins, flowing through my entire body.
Not even Lev—the boy I thought I loved for most of my life—ever stirred anything like this within me. This feels sharper. Hungrier. Like if I gave Rian the slightest opening, he wouldn’t simply take me apart—he would consume me.
My skin tightens, hypersensitive.
Rian’s eyes flare silver. The space between us feels fragile, stretched thin by restraint alone.
If Silas weren’t sleeping between us, I’m certain Rian would close the distance.
And Gods help me, I would let him.
Which is likely why there’s a barrier between us.
The Gods are watching.
They pull at unseen threads and play the world to their tune, orchestrating our lives with unknowable motivations for desired outcomes.
It’s the only explanation for what happens next.
The sea to our left erupts. A maelstrom tears through the water, seizing the boat and wrenching us violently off Rian’s course.
I’m thrown sideways, the bench slamming into my ribs and punching the air from my lungs.
Silas rolls with a sharp curse, his head cracking against the boat with a sickening thud.
He jerks upright, clutching the back of his skull. “What the fuck?”
“Virendrellians,” Rian hisses, pulling the oars back onto the boat and then throwing his arms out toward the swirling sea that’s dragging us in. “They’re attacking.”
I grip the edge of the boat and scan our surroundings. I don’t see anything.
Rian’s shadows soar from his hands and create an onyx wall between us and the water. The boat crashes into the structure, and I fall onto my ass.
Rian’s power bends, but it doesn’t break. The wall doesn’t stop the water from continuing to pull us, but it does prevent us from meeting the swirling danger on the other side. The prince throws more shadows into the structure.
Then a gust of air blows over us, sending sea spray into our eyes. The force pushes down, and the boat begins to tilt toward the wall.
Our supplies slide. I snatch my satchel and bag, throw the straps over my neck, and scramble toward Silas and Rian.
Silas grabs my wrist and hoists me up while his shadows crash into the unnatural wind that’s trying to shove us into the sea.
“What is happening?” I shout. “Why would the Virendrellians attack us?”
“Because they’re pricks,” Silas snarls, still holding my wrist.
Another wave of darkness collides with the invisible air submerging our boat and manages to sweep it away.
The boat rocks back to level out. Silas’s grip slips, and I crash into Rian’s chest. His arm bands around my waist.
His lips brush my ear. “Brace yourself.”
A shiver works its way down my spine. “What—”
The boat lurches, tipping so far on the side that I’m certain we’re going to capsize. I dig my slippered heels down and arch my back, pressing into Rian, desperate to avoid falling into the icy water.
Shadows shove the other end of the boat back down. My head snaps left and right with the volatile rocking. Through it all, Rian’s grip never falters.
“Anytime you want to end this song and dance, my prince, I’d be most obliged,” Silas grits through clenched teeth.
His dark power continues to thrash in the air, combatting the invisible force attempting to submerge the dinghy.
“Working on it,” Rian growls, the veins in his neck bulging.
Smoke dislodges from his body like a phantom. The transparent wisps thicken and darken as they spread out around us. The eerie power climbs over the dark wall of shadows separating us from the complete pull of the maelstrom.
I clench my hands into fists only to realize I’m actually gripping Rian’s forearm. Veins of shadow flicker beneath his tanned skin, alive and restless. Beautiful yet terrifying.
A shout rips through the air, coming from the other side of the black wall.
Breath lodges in my chest.
The ocean itself rises against us, an avalanche of water cresting high above the shadow wall. The whitecaps curl like teeth.
My fingers dig into Rian’s arm as the wave curves down, seconds from devouring the boat and us with it.