98
Nauriel.
I woke with a start and sat up as Amlach’s voice echoed in my mind. My watchful eyes quickly took in the rustic surroundings. My dirty hands immediately recognized the softness of the sheets below me.
My onyx bramble tiara, armor, and boots had been removed—I was only wearing my black leather robe and trousers. I caressed the torn fabric on my stomach, then placed one hand on my heart.
I waited and waited.
But
I
Didn’t
Feel
Anything.
Neither the darkness that had infected every part of me nor the blood that had mingled with mine in every vein and artery.
Amlach had taken everything back.
He had left me . . . alone.
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. A cry rose in my throat, but I refused to let it out.
Nauriel.
I whipped my head toward the arched glass doors, my senses on high alert. Why was I hearing his voice? Where on earth did it come from?
I jumped out of bed, then froze. Without the magic granted to me by the Spirits, I felt so . . . normal. Without Amlach’s darkness, I felt so . . . light.
I didn’t like it.
I wanted to feel the power flowing through me again. I wanted evil’s sharp teeth to sink back into my bones and its lust to lick every corner of my being.
Nauriel.
I rushed toward the windows and grabbed the knobs beneath the thin blue curtains, but stopped the moment I saw my reflection in the glass.
Amlach’s mark was gone.
Beneath the dirt, my face was clean.
Furious and shattered at once, I threw open the glass doors and stepped out onto the terrace.
The patch of sun setting beyond the Forest of Witches was so vividly orange that it looked unreal.
Above the Kingdom of Men, the slate-gray sky was streaked with thinning clouds in shades of amethyst and raspberry.
There was no longer any sign of the black clouds over Leukós. Still, that battered land now looked exactly that color.
Unable to bear the sight of it, I bowed my head and gripped the top of the balustrade so angrily that the stone cracked.
Nauriel.
My eyes darted northward, toward the dense forest covering the Aroron Mountains, toward the oldest temple far from Aegel’s Palace. Amlach’s voice was echoing from there, I realized with renewed fear.
But when my name reverberated around me once more like a ghost from the afterlife, I understood he was not the one calling me.
It was his magic trapped inside Calien’s Crystal.
How was that even possible? And why did I perceive it so vehemently?
The urge to find my mate hit me like a whip. At the sudden memory of my soldiers pouncing on him, my breath caught in my throat, then it became uneven and distressed. My heart started pounding painfully against my chest, almost making me feel like I was suffocating.
I needed to see Amlach. Now.
Unconcerned that blood and tears and dust were crusted on my face, I left my wing of the palace and moved into the main one through the inner corridors. When I heard my parents’ and Araton’s voices in one of the living rooms on the ground floor, I went in without bothering to knock.
The happiness on my father’s and brother’s faces, who had washed off the slimy blackish blood of the beasts slaughtered in the humans’ farmlands and villages and had worn white and gray robes respectively, vanished the second I opened my mouth.
“Where is Amlach?” I asked imperiously.
“His name is Mornon,” the king scolded me.
“Not to me,” I declared harshly.
Father glared at me.
Araton exhaled forcefully through his nose, ran a hand over his exhausted face, his knuckles scraped and bloodied, and leaned his back against the tall window. “Oh, Sister . . .” he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.
Mother, who until then hadn’t uttered a whisper, her fingers pressed to her mouth, couldn’t hold back anymore and pulled me into a tight embrace. “I knew you could do it,” she whispered, tears wetting my hair as she rubbed her cheek against it. “I knew your love would prevail.”
Nauriel.
I stiffened, trying with all my might to ignore the call of darkness. The Queen of the Elves withdrew, peering at me with a cautious frown.
I gave a hesitant smile that didn’t convince her at all, then turned back to Father with a stern look. “Where is he?”
Mother shot him a withering glance as she went back to position herself in front of the sumptuous wooden couch.
He took a deep breath and, in a grave tone, said, “In the only place where an unholy creature like him should be.”
“He’s my mate,” I snarled, taking a threatening step forward, blood pulsing in my temples, my fingers tingling with the urge to tear flesh with my nails.
My family looked at me with concern, as if I were a beast ready to go for their jugulars.
I tried to conceal my own alarmism caused by that fit of feral aggressiveness, wondering why it had pervaded me even though the darkness no longer dwelled within me.
Then I continued fervently, “Did you not see what happened? Did you not understand? He has no magic left inside him, not even a drop. All his power and the dark forces he commanded are locked within the Crystal. It’s like his witch side no longer exists. He’s just an elf now.”
“Don’t let his gesture fool you, Sister,” Araton scolded me. “He certainly has a hidden agenda.”
Nauriel.
I felt a spasm in the wrist Amlach had gripped, and I quickly braceleted it forcefully before the sudden tremor in my hand was noticed.
“And even without his powers,” Father added, “he still poses too great a threat.”
Wrath flashed in my eyes. “He surrendered for me,” I replied emphatically. An emphasis that gradually faded as Araton and Father exchanged a gaze filled with uncertainty. “For . . .” Was that pity I saw on my brother’s face? “For love.”
“My child . . .” The king sighed sadly. “It’s a risk we cannot afford to take.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
Mother gave her mate and son a dirty look. Once more, the two traded heavy, conspiratorial glances.
“Speak!” I yelled.
Araton stepped away from the glass door, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at me harshly. “He must die, Nauriel.”
“Over my dead body,” I growled in a voice so wild that my brother tensed up, as if prepared to defend himself if I lunged at him. “Father,” I then said impulsively, gazing at him with such intensity that it unsettled him. “ No.”
He watched me for a long time, his eyes so piercing that they made me feel like he was examining the inside of my body, searching for any sign that evil still lingered within me.
But it was gone.
It was gone.
Gone.
Although my father did not seem convinced at all, he took a deep breath and solemnly announced, “Mornon the Abomination will be executed tomorrow at noon.”
“ He’s my mate!” I screamed again, furious that he still wouldn’t accept it. “If you kill him, you will kill me too!”
“I know.”
I clammed up, shocked. Then, all at once, I realized.
Just as I had been willing to sacrifice myself for all of them, now he was prepared to sacrifice me to make sure the enemy was finally defeated. He would rather watch me live a lonely existence than see me with Amlach.
“Erech, please,” Mother said, “take at least a day to think it over carefully.” She fixed him in her resentful stare. “Our daughter’s life is at stake.”
He stayed silent for what felt like an eternity. Finally, unyielding, he declared, “I have made my decision.”
And sadly, in the funereal silence that followed, I realized I understood it completely.
“I do not approve of it,” Mother asserted instead.
“And you shouldn’t either, Araton,” she added with a glower, then stepped slightly closer to him with a bitter expression.
“You know what it’s like to live without your half.
And though you will soon reunite with Serie in Rest, your sister will be condemned to never see her beloved again. Is this what you want for her?”
My brother looked down, his face shadowed with guilt.
“That’s enough,” Father said peremptorily.
Deeply disappointed, she quickly moved toward the other window, turning her back to us as she hugged herself and watched nature outside.
The King of the Elves’ steely gaze shifted back to me. “Go bid him farewell.”
It was only after blinking that I realized my cheeks were streaked with tears.