Chapter 25
Elara
The lavish, thick door panels to the binding marquee opened, and Caelan led Elara to their opulent wedding reception, the scent of perfume and expensive liquor heavy in the air.
His eyes sparkled with pride. Elara smiled, mirroring the joy in his eyes.
Snowflakes danced around them before melting on the path beneath their feet.
Several landed on her face, and she laughed, savoring the coolness of the melted snow on her flushed skin.
“As much as I like you wet, Princess, we best get you inside before I melt,” Caelan said with a wink.
Elara blushed further at that statement. He was right though. A frost-kissed princess wouldn’t suit their wedding reception. So they abandoned the privacy of the fresh air and joined the fray inside the tent, ducking through the threshold.
Caelan swept her into another dance, this one faster than their previous ones, and she begged for a reprieve.
Sera took her place for the following song, and much to her surprise, Elara grinned, happy to watch the two old friends twirl around the dance floor.
Her growing confidence eased her concerns about Sera and Caelan’s past. She focused on the future now, one that included Caelan as her husband and Sera as a friend.
Elara was swaying a little from side to side, humming along to one of her favorite songs and watching the throng of guests, when she saw her. There, in a sky-blue gown that made her look oddly like the cake being served, being spun around on the dance floor by their father.
Thalia.
Disbelief washed over Elara; she couldn’t process what she was seeing. Her sister and father were here. Dancing. Safe. Nearby, her mother clapped to the lively beat of the music, her face glowing with joy.
With a sharp shove, Elara bypassed a richly dressed noble couple, their startled expressions barely registering as she strode toward her family.
The tent became a suffocating crush of people, each an obstacle in Elara’s path to what she desired most. Keeping to the perimeter of the tent, she used a serving table to steady herself.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a deafening sound that matched the queasy churning in her stomach.
My family . . . is . . . here? How? Why?
The long train of her gown caught underneath her shoe and sent her tumbling. She stopped her fall, but the delicate white silk ripped beneath her heel. As she bent to gather the fabric in her arms, a shadow loomed over her, setting her teeth on edge.
“I see you’ve noticed our special guests,” Lord Stormrider said.
The chill in his voice sent a shiver up Elara’s spine.
Something’s not right, Elara. Lysandra’s voice sounded a distant warning in her mind.
She shook her head, trying to focus.
“Indeed,” Elara said. “A most welcome surprise on this happiest occasion.” She shoved down her instincts to recoil from him, instead focusing on playing along.
Lord Stormrider ran a hand through his gray hair—a gesture she’d seen from Caelan a dozen times—causing his cobalt cape to shift and reveal a decorative sword at his hip.
A gaudy gold ring flashed on his finger as he stroked the hilt.
“Enjoy them while you still can, little princess,” he said, sneering at her.
His expression rarely matched his words, something that annoyed Elara, though she had grown used to it.
But the venom he was spitting made little sense—he had what he wanted.
She’d held up her end of their bargain by agreeing to marry Caelan.
Now it was his turn. Her family was here, and she was going to speak with them.
With a sharp turn, she fled Lord Stormrider.
The familiar tingle of magic—a warmth like sun on skin—spread through her fingertips.
The sound of the celebration around her was deafening, her ears ringing as she inched closer to her goal.
With a deep breath, she took another step forward, reaching out to touch her mother’s shoulder.
Elara’s fingers brushed velvet, and the queen turned to face her. “Hello, darling!” she said.
“Mother,” Elara breathed, clarity returning and the fist around her heart loosening slightly. “Are you all right?”
“Wonderful! You look so beautiful, my dear. I am thrilled for you and Captain Stormrider. It is such a smart match. I’m proud of you, Elara.”
Elara forced a smile. “Thank you. I must say, I was genuinely surprised by how much I liked him.”
The queen nodded and patted Elara’s arm fondly.
“Where have you been?” Elara asked, brow furrowed. There was no telling what her family would remember, what Lord Stormrider had done to them—or rather, forced Sera and others to do to them.
“At the country house. Remember, dear, I wasn’t feeling well. And poor Thalia had it much worse than I did!” her mother said, brushing off Elara’s concern.
Elara nodded. “But you’re feeling better now?” Elara hoped that her mother would give some sign that she knew something was amiss. Perhaps not now, with an audience, but later, in private, they could discuss what had really happened.
“Indeed,” was all the queen said before Elara’s father pulled her away for a dance.
“Father!” Elara called as he moved them away. He winked, saying nothing. Before Elara could pursue her parents, they faded into the mass of dancing people.
He never winks at me like that.
Arms wrapped around Elara in a warm embrace. “Hello, sister. Congratulations!”
Elara inhaled Thalia’s scent . . . and it was completely wrong. The tingling of magic migrated from her fingertips up her forearms, burning in its intensity. Elara grasped her sister’s shoulders, holding Thalia out at arm’s length, her eyes scanning her face with concern.
Her eyes . . . Instead of their usual blue—like Elara’s—Thalia’s eyes were hazel. Her eyes are the wrong color.
Elara backed away from Thalia.
“What’s wrong?” Her sister’s voice held no trace of real concern, her face doll-like and strange.
“You’re not real,” Elara whispered. Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.
Elara turned away from her, desperately searching the crowd for Caelan and Sera. Instead, she collided with Felix, who was flirting with one of the servant girls.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, now on high alert and scanning the room for threats. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost . . .” He trailed off as his eyes fell on Thalia, then the king and queen. “Impossible,” he murmured.
“Help me find Caelan, please,” she said. “Something is terribly wrong.”
Felix nodded and moved to search the room for the missing pair. Meanwhile, Elara scanned the room for Lord Stormrider. Before she could find him, Felix cleared a path in the bodies, Caelan on his heel.
“Elara,” Caelan breathed. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He reached out and took her hands in his. The room was spinning, threatening to knock Elara off her feet.
When she didn’t answer him right away, he turned to Felix, who nodded toward her parents on the dance floor.
“No,” Caelan hissed. “Where did Sera go?” he barked at Felix.
Felix shrugged. “I searched for her too. She’s gone.”
Caelan shook his head, accidentally squeezing Elara’s hands in his frustration. “Find her,” he bit out.
Elara focused on their hands. The pressure, the slight pain, helped her focus. It helped anchor her to reality.
“Here now,” Caelan said gently. “Let’s get you something to drink.”
Elara tried to nod, but she couldn’t move.
You’re in shock, Lysandra said to her. Elara didn’t even know where Lysandra was, but she feared she was right.
“Elara?” Caelan took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “Stars,” he muttered. “Come on.” He pulled her away from the party and into a quieter alcove of the tent.
He sat her down on a chair and helped her take a few sips of water. He rubbed her back, soothing her, coaxing her back into her body.
“What did Felix mean?” she finally asked.
“Felix?” Caelan asked, confused. “About what?”
“He said it was impossible,” she said, her lips the only things that moved. “Why would it be impossible for my family to be here?”
“Shh, Elara, my love,” Caelan said, kneeling in front of her. “Don’t worry about that right now. You are in shock from seeing your family here tonight.”
“No,” she snapped. “Those things are not my family. They’re illusions.”
Caelan said nothing as a look of pure pain flashed across his features.
“They’re Sera’s illusions. I could sense it. I’ve felt it before in her presence. Why would she do this to me?”
Caelan took a deep breath. “If they are Sera’s,” he said, “then there has to be an explanation. It’s my father’s doing, Elara, not Sera’s. I’m sure of it.”
“Where is my real family?” Elara was all but whimpering now. Hot tears cascaded down her face.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But we will figure this out together.”
“I trusted her,” she said. “She’s supposed to be my friend.” I should’ve known better.
“I know, love,” he said, voice fading as darkness closed in around his face.
Elara bolted upright in her bed, waking from her vision. Sweat coated her, causing her nightgown to stick to her clammy skin. Caelan breathed softly beside her, moonlight shining on his golden curls. Lysandra sat in her lap, fur black as night, pointed ears upright and alert.
Good, you’re back.
Back? Elara thought. You saw that too?
The feline nodded.
It . . . That wasn’t just a nightmare, was it? Elara asked.
No, Elara. That was a vision. Of your future.
Elara trembled from the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Her palms burned with phantom pain from touching the illusions in her vision.
The wedding is in a couple of weeks. I have to find my family before Caelan and I wed. I can’t trust Lord Stormrider . . . or Sera.
Lysandra’s glowing gaze zeroed in on Caelan’s sleeping figure. Can you trust him?
Tears fell onto the blanket. I don’t know. I don’t think I have a choice.