Chapter 39
Ael
“The witch gave me this,” Luelle said as she held out a clear stone the size of his palm.
“What is it?” he asked her, picking up the piece of transparent stone and holding it up to the warm light streaming through the large domed windows of the Throne Room.
“She said you speak the name of who you want to see, and it will show you their image. She also said that the next time you want something, you should come and ask her yourself. And then after she handed me that rock, she threw the broom at my head and screamed as if she was the one in pain.” Luelle rubbed the back of her head.
“I wanted to be able to speak to Seda, also. Can this do that?” he asked, ignoring her complaints.
“Just the image in real time,” Luelle responded, dropping her hand. “Sheesh, at least show some concern for my well-being after sending me to that old hag. She is truly terrible. Next time, send Praxis. I would love to see him with a bump on the head from a broom.”
The doors swung open, and Praxis marched in and bowed deeply.
“Speak of the stinky devil,” Luelle mumbled.
Praxis ignored her but fought a smirk. “Sire, the Lycanthropes have gathered at the western wall. It has been quiet while you were away. They may have learned of your return.”
“Have you been in contact?” Ael asked as he slipped the stone into his pocket.
“No, Sire. We await your command,” Praxis said as he stood straight, awaiting orders.
Praxis was nearly as tall as Ael, his height giving him a natural presence amongst the guard.
His black hair was shaved into intricate designs along the sides, allowing his tall ears, adorned with iron cuffs, to be displayed.
“Make contact, find out what they want,” Ael ordered and waved his hand in the direction of the doors. Praxis left the room and closed the doors behind him.
“Ael, may I be excused? I have a hot date with curves I would like to get to,” Luelle said to him, foregoing formalities. She rarely called him by his titles unless others were around. Luelle was one of his oldest friends.
He chucked, the sound low in his Fae form, and waved toward the door again, excusing her. Luelle walked out, her long flaxen hair pulled back into a tight ponytail with curls at the end that swayed with each step.
He watched the ponytail leave.
When the doors finally closed, he anxiously pulled out the stone and looked at it. His heart was racing, and he drew a deep breath to steady himself.
“Seda Arbor,” he said to the stone.
He anxiously watched the clear stone. Nothing happened for a few moments, and Ael was about to curse the old witch for her trickery when it began to shine brightly, lighting up his palm.
He stared at it intently as the image of Seda appeared. She looked exhausted from her journey. He sighed in relief, seeing that she was alive and safe, and his eyes caught on arms wrapped around her body.
Frantically, he looked closer to the stone. The image panned out, and Kalon came into view. He was holding her the same way that he had her on the trip.
What the fuck?!
Memories of her soft body pressed against him as he carried her through the woods, of their day waking up in his bed together, the countless times they shared laughs as he slowly broke down her walls, showcasing that beautiful, kind, strong woman within.
He struggled to remind himself that Seda was free to make her own decisions, but the fiery dragon of jealousy churned deep inside him.
He took a deep breath, and his magic billowed from his nostrils, spreading across the face of the stone and creating a fog around the moving images of Seda and Kalon.
He wished he could hear what they were saying.
He was determined to watch this fucking stone all night long if he had to.
Even if it meant seeing things he’d regret.
He was watching it intently, unblinking, checking if Kalon moved his hands anywhere that was questionable, when a knock came at the door.
He quickly pocketed the stone. “Come in.”
An elderly Fae woman with gray hair and a stern face entered the room. She bowed.“Your Highness, we welcome you back to Umbrea. I’ve selected five of our top women for your selection.” She rose and waved her hand toward the door.
Five beautiful Fae women, wearing little more than a vibrant array of see-through lace scarves that clung to their naked bodies, walked in and bowed deeply before him.
“You may have as many as you like, Sire,” the woman said.