Chapter 15
Elariya
“Answers That Taste Like Dust”
Dawn bled through the windows like a wound, painting my new prison in shades of false hope. The chamber sprawled before me, a deceptive expanse of dark walnut panels and gleaming brass fixtures that whispered of wealth while screaming of captivity.
A bed draped in midnight-blue silk dominated one wall, while an ornate wardrobe stood sentinel in the corner.
Everything was beautiful, but no matter how luxurious the room was, it was no different from a barred dungeon designed to lock you away.
This room was a gilded cage owned by the prince who'd stolen me away. The damn door being locked from the outside didn’t exactly prove me wrong.
Sleep didn’t come to me until late last night. And I most likely drifted off because I was so exhausted I’d lost the fight to stay awake.
I woke minutes ago. Maybe seconds. Just long enough to catch the first slices of golden sunlight, bright and too soft for this place.
The first thing I’d noticed was the thick, fluffy blanket wrapped around me, keeping me warm.
The other thing I’d noticed was… Wolfe’s essence clinging to the air.
He’d been in here while I slept.
The potency of that harrowing thought sunk into my skin, making the fine hairs on my arms rise. My body remembered his power, leaving me raw and hypersensitive to every shadow and every whisper of movement.
His lingering presence both infuriated and unnerved me. Even without seeing him, I could feel the ghost of his power brushing against my soul, intimate as a caress.
The realization unsettled me more than I cared to admit.
Until I’d met him, I hadn’t even considered things like sensing the presence of others.
But in the short space of time I’d been around him, my senses had sharpened.
It felt like a magical thing. Like my mage intuition had kicked in because I was in survival mode, watching for the predator before he struck.
I assumed he gave me the blanket. And that realization made my skin crawl. He’d been here. Close enough to touch me. Close enough to kill me if he
wanted to.
A shudder ran through me at the thought of him prowling around me while I was asleep and unable to protect myself. Not that I was doing a better job of doing so awake.
I would’ve tossed the blanket off me if the cold hadn’t seeped into my bones. That’s what I got for sleeping in this dress with my back against the wall and my knees pulled to my chest, as if I could make myself small enough to disappear.
I wished I could.
The air in my prison was thick with contradictions—polished wood and sea salt, sweet perfume and ancient magic. It mirrored the chaos clashing inside me.
I felt the same way yesterday when the Fae males dropped me off. I hadn’t known what to do with myself. I still didn’t. And I didn’t know what to expect from today, either.
A servant—a woodland sprite with blue ethereal skin and matching wings—had come by three times yesterday.
Each time I saw him, I tried not to stare too intently and appear rude with my obvious fascination.
The muted expression on his angular, pixie-like face gave nothing away.
I could only hope he understood that my lingering gaze stemmed from wonder.
I'd never encountered a creature like him before.
The first time he came in was to drop off the clothes. The next times were to give me food.
His blue skin had shimmered like moonlight on water. Seeing him before me had been so different from the stories filled with creatures and beings Grandmother had told me about the magical realm.
And it wasn’t just him. Magic was all around me. Even the ship seemed alive with power, a vessel built for crossing between realms, not just seas.
I still hadn’t touched the things the sprite brought me, and I had no intention of changing my mind. I didn’t want to wear anything Wolfe gave me, and I wasn’t hungry. Grandmother had always told me to beware of food or drink people gave you.
Wolfe was my enemy. Sure, I’d assumed he might need to keep me alive for the moment, but he could do other things to me. Like cast some spell on my mind to make me lose control and agree to anything he wanted. Even to my death.
So, no. I wouldn’t be eating his food. Though, I supposed food was the least of my worries when I didn’t know what was going to happen to me.
Wolfe said he’d let me know in due course. What an asshole thing to say.
Then again, for what little I knew of him, it seemed exactly like something he’d say.
This fresh hell threatened to shred what little sanity I had left. The cruelest part was my heart still wanted to deny the accusations against my father. But I knew I couldn’t. I was living proof that he must have done something wrong.
Every reset, every lost memory, every piece of myself that had slipped away over the last five years was because of what he did. His actions hadn’t just cursed me but our entire family.
I thought of Mother, of Grandmother, of Emabelle, of everything we'd lost, and the army that vanished searching for him.
Even my impending marriage to Thayden… all of it traced back to that moment in the forest. To whatever terrible choice Father had made.
Now I was cursed and paying the price for his crimes.
Me. The girl who’d spent her life trying to be the perfect daughter, the obedient girl who worked hard, the caring, reliable girl who was there for anyone who needed her. I was being punished under the laws of Vaelthorne.
I was powerless to stop this, but I needed to know why Father had brought this madness upon us.
Why had he done it?
Why?
The question devoured me from within, hollowing out my heart until there was nothing left but ash.
Pressing my forehead to my knees, I tried to cage my ragged breathing, but the magical shackles at my wrists sang its cruel melody against my skin, a constant reminder of whose mercy I now lived under.
Twenty-two days until my next memory reset, and I was here.
What would happen when my mind wiped clean again and I found myself around a bunch of Fae?
The weight of inevitability pressed against my chest, leaving me nauseous.
A knock at the door made me flinch. I lifted my head and stared at it.
I expected the sprite to come in, but then I remembered he hadn’t knocked before. The door opened even though I didn’t answer—I didn’t plan to.
Who I saw standing there surprised me.
Arielle.
She glided into the room with the careful grace of someone approaching a wounded animal, balancing a tray laden with morning offerings: porridge steaming with promise, fresh-baked bread, and tea that perfumed the air with jasmine.
She offered a small smile before setting the tray on the table by the window, then closed the door and lingered near the frame, observing me.
I gazed back at her, my nerves frayed.
Her white-blonde hair was braided to the side in a loose fishtail. Sunlight turned each stray strand into threads of pure silver.
Unlike in the vision, she wore simple clothing. A pair of pants and a long-sleeved cotton shirt that made her look more ordinary than I’d imagined. Less like a mage, more like a girl. Casual. Almost… human.
It was strange seeing her in real life. Meeting her gaze now after everything that had happened since that horrific walk down memory lane felt like staring into a cracked mirror.
My insides twisted with the truth that she’d wandered through the darkest corners of my mind and unearthed every secret I held close.
“Morning,” she finally spoke, her voice soft and gentle, but careful. “I came to see how you were.”
She stepped closer, power radiating from her in contrast to the void I felt where my magic should have been. The shackle grew colder, as if responding to her presence, and so did my heart, making the emptiness inside me ache even more.
If I were my usual self, I’d say good morning back to her with a warm smile, and I would have made pleasant conversation. She was, after all, the only other mage I’d ever met outside my family. She also seemed to be close to my age.
As I looked at her I realized I couldn’t even pretend to be polite so she wouldn’t think I was rude. It was her who told Wolfe what was in my head, my memories, my curse, and a truth I didn’t even know I was hiding.
She cracked me open and bled the information out of me, then ran back to her master to spill everything. And she left me there. Alone in that space between dreams and pain. So, I stared back at her wordlessly.
After a few beats of cold, dead silence, she seemed to pick up on my hostility. And I was sure she knew the reasons for it.
“I would have come to check on you sooner, but dream walking drained me.”
I’d never heard of dream walking before. It may have impressed me more if she hadn’t used it to invade my mind.
“Dream walking. How did you do it?” My voice cut through the air, and she could tell I wasn’t asking the question out of curiosity.
“It’s a little difficult to explain,” she said, bringing her dainty hands together. “I’d have to show you. And I can’t.”
“Of course not,” I snapped. “Your master wouldn’t approve, would he?”
Her cheeks flushed, and the brightness in her eyes dimmed. “It’s not like that.”
“What are you to Wolfe Nightblade?” My voice burned with quiet rage. “His magic thief? His mind reader? Or just another pretty weapon he aims at his enemies?” I lifted my chin with defiance and tried to look like I wasn’t fucking scared of what was going to happen to me.
“I’m… his advisor.”
That surprised me. It was fascinating even, because she was a woman in power, in the magical realm no less. It was impossible to imagine back home.
Impressive as it was, I had to remember she worked for the villain who chained me.
“Did you know what he was going to do to me?” I snapped. The slight movement made the blanket slide down my shoulders.
She swallowed hard before nodding. “For the most part. I don’t agree with any of this, but—”
“No. Stop.” I shook my head. “There is no but. Regardless of what my father did or how I can help, I’m being held captive here, and that is not okay.”
“You’re right,” she whispered. “You are absolutely right. I swear to you that if there were something I could do, I would do it in a heartbeat. I don’t agree with you being locked away.”
“You just said you were Wolfe’s advisor.” I gave her a hard stare.
She cocked her head and raised her shoulders into a gentle shrug. “That doesn’t mean he has to follow my advice.”
That stopped me. I hadn’t thought of that, but I guessed it made sense since Wolfe didn’t appear to be the sort who did as he was told.
“I came to see you in case you wanted to talk,” she ventured, each word as careful as taking steps on thin ice. “I sensed your isolation from our world. From the mage realms and others like us.”
“I don’t want to talk,” I cut in before she could continue.
My words stumped her and I almost felt bad. I was being rude now, but I didn’t care. She wasn’t the one sitting on the floor with a magical shackle around her wrist. Nor was she at the mercy of the devil.
“Okay. That’s understandable.” She gave me a curt nod. “But I’m still offering you my listening ear and a person to talk to if you need me.”
Again, I didn’t answer.
“I’d love to tell you about Vaelthorne and the mage realms. Or just talk. I turn twenty-two in two months, so I’m not that much older than you. In the meantime, please eat something and change out of those clothes. We’re about to sail through colder waters.”
“I don't want anything from him. Or you.” I turned away and gazed through the window. Beyond the thick glass, frost spiraled across the window in delicate patterns as if it heard her warning and wanted to caution me, too, of the cold waters ahead.
“You’ll suffer if you don’t eat or change out of that dress.”
“I’m already suffering.” I said the words more to myself than to her, then I looked at her and tried to hold back the tears that were burning the backs of my eyes.
“Please, leave me alone. Please just go and don’t come back.
Tell your master not to send any more food, either, and that I don’t want his damn clothes. ”
The finality in my tone was palpable. Arielle gazed at me for a heartbeat before dipping her head again then backing away.
I turned from her retreating form and fixed my gaze on the endless expanse of sea so I wouldn’t see her leave.
Softly, the door's click echoed through the chamber. And in my chest.
A single tear trailed down my cheek. All this time, I hadn’t cried. I'd held my tears at bay, but I couldn’t help it now. The weight of everything had tumbled on my shoulders, and I was sinking.
But… my spirit wasn’t broken yet.
I still had some fight left in me that pushed me to hold on and believe that somewhere in this mess of lies and magic, my life was worth saving.
I needed to stay strong and fight against the curse that stole my memories, the father who'd damned me, and the prince who'd claimed me as his prisoner.
There might be very little I could do to help myself right now. That didn’t mean I shouldn’t keep my head screwed on and keep my eyes open for a way out.
Whatever Wolfe had planned for me, I needed to be ready to protect myself and run when I had the chance to flee.
It couldn’t be like last time. Next time, I needed to be sure I could escape. And I hoped like hell that I could be free before my next memory reset.
If I could get myself back to Stormfell, I’d be able to tell my family what I’d learned. Then we could find Father together. If he was alive.
Gods. No matter what he’d done, I hoped he was alive. And if he was, maybe I could save him.
It might not be right for me to want to save him, but he was my father. My kind-hearted, loving father, who would do anything for me. I had to know his reasons for this catastrophe.
And I couldn’t give up on him any more than I hoped to be free of Wolfe Nightblade.