Chapter 38
Elorie
The insides of my legs ache when I finally climb off the horse. I avoid looking Wilder in the eyes, confident my cheeks are burning bright from being in his arms for so long. I quickly turn away from him, hurrying to where Greer and Callum are waiting for Cyan to open a Gateway.
“How was the ride?” Greer watches Wilder over my shoulder.
When I glance back, I find him staring into the desert. “Fine.”
It comes out steady, even as a bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. The leathers that kept me warm in Tempest hug tighter under the heat of the Solace sun. It’s sweltering. What I wouldn’t give for one of the dresses the king parades me around in when I’m at the palace.
“What do you know about Lochlan?” I ask, turning to Greer and Callum.
Callum drags his hand through his dark hair as he glances down at Greer.
She frowns, turning to me. “I know to keep my distance.”
Looking out at the unforgiving desert, I wonder what must rage in Lochlan’s heart that his magic would create such an empty, desolate place. Maybe I should have returned to the Ley Court with the king. But I meant what I said—I need to understand the realm I’m tasked with saving.
Cyan opens a Gateway, and the guards step through one by one. When my foot breaches the portal, the surge of being torn in two erases anything else from my mind.
I taste Solace as I pass through it. A metallic tang coats my tongue. The taste of fresh blood. At a distance, there’s a bird chirping. It quickly fades as I reach the other side.
The Gateway deposits us on a balcony, overlooking the city below. Lochlan’s manor is grander than the temples we just left behind, and the balcony alone is larger than my entire room at the palace.
Fae bustle about the city streets, and while I’d expect them to be miserable under the heat of the scalding sun, they seem perfectly content.
The doorways to the manor are draped in long, flowing curtains.
They’re a variety of colors, blowing in the hot breeze as a male walks through them.
His long white hair is tied off his face in front, knotting at the back of his head.
While the rest hangs stick straight midway down his chest. He scans our gathering with his pale eyes—so light they’re almost as white as the ravagers I saw in Ruse Village.
If it weren’t for the faint blue ring around the rims adding a hint of color, there would be no warmth to him at all.
The male smiles, revealing his sharp teeth.
Most Fae keep their fangs retracted, but he doesn’t bother, and it’s strangely fitting to his demeanor.
Especially since they match the dark runes that decorate his face.
Two sharp lines run down from his hairline.
They cut through his eyebrows and continue over his cheeks like dark fangs on his pale skin.
He pauses before the group, and his outfit blows like the curtains. It’s a simple sheet, wrapped around his waist and slung over one shoulder, revealing hard planes of muscle. He’s as gorgeous as his presence is unsettling.
“Been a while, Loch.” Wilder grins when the male’s gaze stops on him. Which must make this Lochlan Ravage, the Lord of Solace.
“So, it’s true then. King Riven managed to break free from an unbreakable cell.” He grins wider, and his pale eyes slide to me. “Thanks to you, I assume.”
My hands fumble behind my back, but I keep my shoulders squared and my chin high so he can’t sense my nerves. “Yes.”
Lochlan’s smile falters the slightest as his eyes dart between us. “The gods do enjoy their games, don’t they?”
“King Malachi sends his regards.” Cyan steps forward, ignoring Lochlan’s comment entirely. “He had business at the palace to attend to.”
“And yet, he still sent his chosen.” Lochlan walks toward me.
“I asked to come so I could see Solace.”
“You asked to come here… curious little human. Solace is far from Alyssium, Elorie. In many ways.” The fact that he knows my name is as unsettling as the way he circles me. “Island of ice. Destitute of humanity. I suppose if I were you, I’d be curious too.”
“Have you been to Alyssium?” My eyebrows pinch.
He nods, and apart from his sharp teeth, his smile is disarmingly beautiful. “Once. Although, I had the pleasure of seeing it from outside the walls of the prison, unlike my friend.”
“You get around when you’re nearly a thousand years old.” Wilder chuckles, and there’s a strange camaraderie between them for rulers of opposite realms.
“Not a thousand quite yet. Nine hundred twenty-seven,” he corrects Wilder, grinning.
Lochlan doesn’t look more than thirty-five in human years. How old is a Fae like Cyan if Lochlan is almost a thousand and barely looks older than Wilder?
“Very old,” Wilder whispers in my mind, and I glance over at him.
When I look back at Lochlan, his smile has fallen, and his eyebrows are pinched. “Interesting.”
“What is?”
He steps back, not answering my question. “I assume you are all tired from a long day of travel.”
“We’re here to see the—”
“Oh, Cyan, you get more insufferable by the century.” Lochlan grins, cutting him off. “Come in. Enjoy. Rest. There’s always time to brood over war later.”
Lochlan turns, stepping back through the white curtains, and it feels a little like the enemy leading us to our demise, even if he’s on the king’s side.
Callum and Greer stick to either side of me as we all follow Lochlan into the manor. Wilder walks at more of a distance near the back of the group. Flowing white drapes hang from every window, but the breeze doesn’t reach inside as they dance in the wind, making it unbearably hot.
“Your rooms are to the left,” Lochlan says as he continues to walk. “Get changed and then meet me for dinner. We have much to celebrate.”
Lochlan’s eyes drift to the back, where I feel Wilder standing over my shoulder, but he doesn’t say more before leaving us in a grand hallway.
Greer and Callum guide me forward like they’ve been here before and know where we’re going. I suppose when you live for centuries, there aren’t many places you haven’t traveled. It’s easy to forget Callum had an entire lifetime—more than one—before his century on Alyssium.
Greer motions me to a doorway on the right while she continues ahead.
“Lady.” A female with red hair, a pixie nose, and sparkling green eyes looks up at me. “Your room.” She waves her hand.
“I’ll wait for you to head to dinner,” Callum assures me, continuing to his room farther down the hall.
Wilder stops at the room directly across the hall from me, where a stunning female with golden hair and a blindingly bright smile stares at him like he hung the stars.
She looks at him like she’s thinking about helping him with more than getting changed, and I hate that it makes my teeth clench.
Turning my back on them, I disappear into my room and refuse to think about it.
“Lord Lochlan left this for you.” The red-haired Fae points to a dress hanging from magical threads against the wall.
The white fabric is thin and airy. It ties at the neck and flows to the floor. After spending the day traveling in leathers, I’m looking forward to a dress that lets my skin breathe.
“Is there somewhere I can take a bath?” I ask, glancing around.
“Of course.” She hurries across the room, peeling back a curtain to reveal a large bathing chamber.
The walls are lined in bricks made of compacted sand. Bits sparkle where the sun streams through the open window.
Thankfully, the female leaves after warming the bath and showing me where to find soap and jasmine tonic. She doesn’t linger like Isolde did, and I don’t bother asking her name when she doesn’t ask for mine. The last thing I need is to put more Fae at risk.
By the time I’m bathed and dressed, my hair is nearly dry from the heat. It falls in long waves, so I tie pieces off my face with two braids. The blue is more vibrant than it’s ever been, which only seems to make the shimmer of my freckles stand out more.
A knock comes at my door as I smooth my hands over my dress, and Greer walks in without waiting for me to answer.
“Ready?” She turns the corner into my bathing chamber.
“You’re wearing a dress.” I spin around.
Greer frowns. “It’s not the first dress I’ve worn in my life, Elorie.”
“This isn’t just a dress. It’s… sexy.”
The maroon fabric dips low in the front, revealing the curve of her cleavage. The fabric parts at her hip, showing off one of her long legs. Silver strings decorate her ankles, jingling with every step.
She groans, rolling her eyes. “It’s hot. We’re in Solace.”
“I didn’t say you had to explain yourself. I get it. I’m just a little surprised.”
“Well, stop gawking and finish getting ready.” She tries to bury her smile and fails.
“You ready, El—” Callum cuts off when he turns the corner, and his eyes land on Greer.
“Oh my gods, you two are ridiculous—” She shoves past him, walking out into the hall while I race to catch up.
“I didn’t say anything.” Callum looks at me, confused, and I just laugh.
The hallway is empty. No guards and no Wilder. I brush my hands down the front of my dress, following Greer to dinner.
“Solace isn’t anything like I imagined. It’s beautiful.” Tall sandstone walls surround us, dotted with endless windows that let light in.
“Poe designed it.” Greer looks up as we pass an intricately carved pillar. “Lochlan’s wife.”
“Lochlan has a mate?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t believe so. Not all Fae meet their mates, but some find happiness either way. He did.”
“Do you know Poe?”
“No, I never got the chance. But I heard she was lovely.”
“Was?”
Callum clears his throat, and Greer stops talking as a guard passes. It isn’t until they are out of sight that he adds, “Poe died near the end of the war with Tierryn Mor.”
“The fallen star?”
Greer nods.
I read about the war between Lyrichia and Tierryn Mor in one of the texts Callum brought to my room at the palace.
Nearly seven hundred and fifty years ago, Lyrichia went to battle with a nearby realm.
It was brutal, and both sides were ruthless.
There were losses all around. Lyrichia barely won, and once they did, the Arch to Tierryn Mor closed.
Where Tierryn Mor once hung in our sky, only darkness prevailed.
Some believe it is still there, dead and empty.
Some believe it fell from the constellation.
Greer leans closer. “The Arch to Tierryn Mor was in Solace, so Lochlan and his people took the brunt of the battle. In the final stand, Lochlan lost his wife and their children. It was Lochlan’s magic, tearing out of him in devastation, that is said to have sent the final blow that won Lyrichia the war.
That’s when his rune markings appeared on his face. ”
Two large fangs. Marks said to be from the gods when I’m starting to think they’re anything but.
“Solace used to be as lush as the Ley Court forests, but all vegetation died after that,” Callum adds.
The harsh landscape makes sense now. If the land truly does feed from the heart of the lord who oversees it, then Solace reflects his immense pain.
Our conversation is cut off when we reach the end of the hall.
It opens into a wide room, with a balcony stretching two sides, leaving it open to the desert breeze.
Tables are piled with food, and unlike the Ley Court, Fae are actually eating it while they drink and smoke their cares away.
Greer and Callum continue walking, unaware that I’ve paused.
I take a breath, absorbing the room—the territory.
Opulence soothing the destruction.
Gods’ marks masking pain.
I’m finally beginning to understand the kingdom I’m meant to save, and it’s not that different from home.