Chapter 5
Elariya
“The Conduit of Us”
Ikept staring at her, studying the light in her eyes.
She was beautiful. Her long hair was plaited over one shoulder, and dark clothing fitted close beneath the sweep of a navy cape.
“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t startle you.” Her expression shifted, tenderness crossing her features.
I snapped out of my stupor and straightened, wiping at my tears. “No. And, um… Ye vár iyah.” The words came automatically, a scrap of old mage manners Grandmother had drilled into me.
Her smile returned, small and relieved.
She looked about my age, and the way she studied me made my skin prickle, as if she were searching for something she expected to find.
“Are you okay?”
There was no point lying. My face gave me away. “I’m… having a rough day.” I tried to smile, but it felt wrong on my face.
“I’m so sorry.” She spoke like she understood the kind of rough I meant.
The air around her felt different, and I sensed the faint hum of magic again.
“You’re a mage,” I observed quietly.
Something dimmed in her eyes, like disappointment had been waiting there. “Yes. And so are you.”
“You sound like you know me.” It was the wrong thing to say. Mother had warned me that if I ever met someone who seemed to know me, I wasn’t supposed to reveal that I didn’t recognize them. But with this mage, it felt… safe. Or maybe I was just desperate. And desperation had made me careless.
She nodded. “I do. I know you quite well, Elariya. And I always knew this part would be hard when your memory reset.” She swallowed, her composure faltering. “But I still hoped you’d remember me.”
Blessed Mother. She didn’t just know me. She knew about the curse, too.
Cold flooded my veins, igniting every nerve inside me. “You know?”
“Yes, I know about your memory curse.” Her voice gentled. “Please don’t be alarmed. I mean you no harm. My name is Arielle Bloodrose. I’m a mage from the Aethermist Realm. We’re very good friends.”
“We are?” The spark of excitement that pulsed in my heart surprised me.
“Yes. We are.” She smiled wide, then her gaze flicked nervously to the trees and back to me. “I’d love to stay and talk to you, but I can’t be here for long without my magic being detected. I’m barely suppressing it. I’m here as a matter of urgency, with something we hoped not to involve you in.”
“We? Who’s we?” I looked around.
“I’ll tell you another time.” She inhaled, as if steadying herself. “Or maybe this will help.”
From the thin air, she drew out a beautiful notebook, its pink satin cover embroidered with lilies.
I blinked at it. “What’s that?”
“Your journal. From last month.”
My stomach hollowed out. “What did you just say?”
“This is the real journal from last month.” She tapped the edge of the book, then opened it and withdrew two folded letters. “And these are the letters you entrusted to me. To deliver to yourself and your family.”
“Gods. I… what?”
“You wrote the letters and the journal. You weren’t in a coma, Elariya.” Her eyes held mine, her gaze unwavering. “You spent last month in Galaythia. You were in the magical realm.”
I brought a hand to my chest, as if I could keep my heart from pounding out of me. “Me? In the magical realm?”
“Yes.” Arielle’s expression softened, but there was something steely beneath it. “I won’t get into the details of how you got there. It’s all in this journal.”
My thoughts snagged as I took in the smooth satin cover. “My other journals at home…” My voice trailed off.
“Your grandmother put a spell on them.”
“Oh, my…” My stomach twisted.
“The journals you’ve been reading have been filtered. She wove a concealment over them with low level magic so that anyone reading them would see only what they needed to see.”
“Including me?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “But please don’t be angry with her. Your grandmother did what she thought was necessary to protect you and your family from what Thayden might discover.”
My breath caught.
Gods, I’d been right. I was fucking right, and it was hard not to be angry. My family weren’t just keeping secrets from me. They were lying.
“The spell doesn’t erase the truth,” Arielle went on. “It hides it. Masks it. Anyone reading your journals would understand enough to keep suspicion at bay. But this one holds the truth.” She pushed the satin journal closer for me to take.
I took it and held it close.
“When you read it, you will discover many truths, especially that Thayden is not your betrothed.” A gentle smile touched her lips. “You came to the magical realm and fell in love with Wolfe Nightblade, heir to the throne of the Fae kingdom of Galaythia. And he loved you deeply, too.”
My mouth fell open, and my heart lurched. For a moment, I stared, my thoughts scrambling to make sense of what she was saying.
“I…” I didn’t know what to be more shocked about. “Me?”
She nodded.
Blessed Mother. I—Elariya Grayson—fell in love with a Fae prince. The next king of Galaythia. And he loved me, too.
Wolfe Nightblade.
The name rose unbidden, pulled from somewhere deep inside my chest.
“What happened?” I asked. “What am I doing back here?” Back in this nightmare with Thayden.
Arielle shook her head. “That, I don’t know. Wolfe took you to the Southern Isles, and you were attacked. I was waiting for him to send word to meet you there, but it never came. My colleagues and I learned of the attack too late. You came here, and he’s been missing since.”
“Missing?” I gasped.
“Yes. We have no idea what happened to him.”
“Do you know who attacked us?” I held her gaze.
“No.” Arielle breathed, pressing her lips together. “The dragons weren’t able to tell us much. Right now, we don’t know if Wolfe is alive. And we have no way of finding him. We’ve exhausted all resources. Except you.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Me? How would I help? I barely know who I am.”
Arielle’s gaze didn’t waver. “You have a link to him.”
“A link?”
She inclined her head slightly. “A magical shackle.”
That didn’t exactly sound good. The only people I knew of who had shackles were prisoners.
“It’s here.” She reached for my marked hand—the one that burned last night—and turned it gently toward the light. Hope flickered in her eyes. “You can’t see it. It’s beneath the skin. It started as a chain. A tracker. But the Seer rewove it. She tethered your hearts through it.”
Gods. What was I hearing?
Magical shackle.
Tracker
Seer?
I’d read about Seers in Grandmother’s books. They were rare souls of
prophecy—more celestial than mortal, more spirit than flesh. Almost like the gods.
And one of them had threaded her magic through me. Being touched by a Seer
was considered a blessing.
None of this felt real. It was as though I’d slipped away in a dream. But I hadn’t. This was really happening.
Arielle’s smile lingered as her gaze fixed on the sigil on my wrist.
“Is that a mark of the shackle?” I asked.
“No. That’s Wolfe’s soul mark. His dragons told us he made you his Velastra.”
My brows raised. “Dragons? And soul…mark?”
“Yes. The mark of a soul bond. He gave you his mark.”
Even in the mortal lands, the meaning of a soul bond was understood. They were sacred. Irrevocable. Forever.
“Blessed Mother.” My gaze fixed on the sigil, and I couldn’t look away. My breath thinned in my lungs. He must have truly … loved me. Loved me enough to bind himself to me. How cruel the curse was, to rob me of such a memory.
“I must go now. If you decide to help, show your grandmother this.” Arielle reached into her cloak and withdrew a small red wax seal with the same dragon wings from the sigil embossed in the center.
“Prince Alaric, Wolfe’s brother, has requested your assistance.
It’s not a summons, so you don’t have to help us.
We’ll understand. But you may be our only chance.
Call for me with the mage greeting if you agree to go, and we’ll come and get you. ”
The seal gleamed in her palm, red and impossibly real. I stared at it, my pulse thudding unevenly in my throat.
“Arielle… this is a lot to process.” I pressed my hand to my forehead, trying to steady the rush of thoughts colliding in my mind.
“I know.” Her mouth curved into something sad. “So, read and think about it. And remember you have a choice.”
I took the seal, and before I could take my next breath, she faded before my eyes, disappearing as if she were never there.
I stared at the journal and breathed deeply.
I’d wanted the truth.
Now I was holding it in my hands.