Chapter 9 Everly
Everly
Ihardly registered falling before icy air encased me, tinged with the feel of Draven’s mana, until I landed in a soft pile of fresh snow.
It should have been freezing, but my veins were already solid ice, the frigid burn more potent than the endless waves of dragon fire.
I squeezed my eyes shut, clenching my fists against the pain until talons pierced into my skin. It was a reminder that I was real, whole, made of flesh and bone, not just a vessel for the power that was threatening to consume me one agonizing pulse at a time.
But the more I tried to suppress the surges, the harder the power fought back.
The shadows were feral, hungry. Predatory.
Like they were ready to rip free of my ribcage at the slightest provocation.
And the Winter mana was rigid and sharp, lashing outward in jagged bursts as if trying to carve a path through my bones.
Both sides snarled and tore at each other inside me like rival beasts fighting for a hold on the same territory. And, unfortunately for me, that territory just so happened to be my internal organs.
One breath in, then out. Another, but it wasn’t enough. I could feel it bursting from my veins—ice… and shadows—mana that would be wholly out of place in the middle of the Winter Court.
Not that I would need to worry much about appearances if the mana killed me first… Something that was feeling more and more likely with each agonizing breath.
Shards blasted hells.
Panic clawed up my throat as another wave pulsed through me. Too much; it was too much.
Then Draven’s face was in front of mine. Aurora-lit eyes burned from his perfect, chiseled features. His razor-sharp jaw was clenched, and his blood-spattered skin was threaded through with black veins.
Shadows.
My shadows. Were they hurting him?
I sucked in another breath, trying to pull back the mana that was consuming him instead of me.
No. No. No. No.
Draven’s hand clenched around my arm, his fingers pressing into my skin as an icy calm stole over me. Then the words Morta Mea resounded in my head just before the world disappeared once more. Only this time, the darkness was familiar, comforting.
At least, until we landed in his rooms, and the full force of my husband’s ire accosted me from his side of the bond.
“What in all of the hells just happened?”
The power that had been raging from within me had quieted to more manageable tremors.
I blinked, panic swallowing me whole as I scanned every inch of Draven’s skin. When there wasn’t a single shadow left writhing through his veins, I took a steadying breath. He was safe.
My skin still felt too tight, like there was something itching to escape, but I no longer felt in danger of combusting from the inside out.
Which was good, since I would clearly need all of my faculties for the conversation ahead.
Draven’s grip was still firm around my arm, strong without bruising. While the shadows had ebbed away, they’d left weariness in their place.
Weariness and undiluted fury.
It was strange to remember that the last time we had stood this close, his face had been drawn tight with pleasure instead of pain—his mouth against mine, not pressed thin with ire.
I had known this might be the cost. Hadn’t I?
“I did what I had to do,” I said quietly.
Whether he felt the truth of it through whatever bond still tethered us, or simply pieced it together on his own, the realization struck him all at once. I saw it in the way his jaw tightened, in the sharp flare of something wounded crossing his features.
He dragged a hand over his brow, sweat streaking his skin as he exhaled hard, the sound rough and unguarded.
I had never seen him this exhausted. Not even after he’d battled countless Tharnoks and Wraiths at Thistlerun.
And if anything, it only confirmed what I already knew. I would make the same choice again. I would do anything to save him from destroying himself for Winter.
“You went to the Dragon,” he said flatly. “How did you even find him?”
“The amulet. It was a scale,” I explained.
Draven scoffed, and a muscle in his jaw feathered. “So you used a portal, having no idea if you'd be incinerated on arrival—”
“I took a chance that was necessary,” I interrupted.
He dropped my arm, backing away as he shook his head. “Without bothering so much as to inform your husband?”
“When should I have done that, Draven?” A wave of mana pulsed through me, tendrils of shadows flooding the stones at my feet. “Did you want me to pop into the courtyard in the middle of a monster battle?”
He crossed the distance between us, his breath fogging the air between us.
“You could have sent word, told your sister, showed me something through the bond,” he fired back. “Don’t pretend you had no options, Everly. You didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to know.”
Something closer to pain flickered alongside the fury echoing through our bond.
I wanted to argue. To tell him that wasn’t quite true, that I was too panicked to rationalize that part of the decision, to say anything at all to ease the tendril of betrayal tainting the space between us.
But he would have sensed the lie.
He glanced down at his ring as if waiting for the telltale vibration, and something inside me deflated.
I had been panicked and worried about distracting him from the battle with the Korythid, but more than those things, he wasn’t wrong. I had been concerned that he would stop me…
My shadows flared, stronger than before, edged with ice this time.
Draven clenched his jaw and took hold of my arm. His mana washed over mine, cold and sharp, and somehow, blessedly, it coaxed mine into a semblance of submission.
“Draven, I’m—” I began, but he cut me off.
“We have bigger things to worry about now.”
I bristled, fatigue washing over me all at once. He wasn’t wrong, though. There would be time for this argument later.
Probably.
“Right,” I muttered. “I need to get to the Heartstone.”
He blinked like he hadn’t heard me.
“Since I have my mana back,” I added the obvious, like we weren’t both painfully aware of that fact.
“Mana you can’t control.”
Yes, hence the urgency. But I didn’t think that telling him I may not survive long enough to do it later would help my cause when I could already feel his fury rolling through the room in waves nearly as powerful as my volatile mana.
“You said it didn’t matter for the Heartstone…” I said.
That muscle feathered in his jaw once again, and another spike of aggravation rent the air, this time edged with a bitterness so strong I could taste it on my tongue.
“That was when I assumed your power was Seelie in nature, and when it hadn’t already tried to kill you once today.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off, his grip on my arm tightening almost reflexively.
“Even if I were willing to risk it, risk you, the Hall of Stars is sealed. Only the Visionary can open it.”
Mana jolted through the room again, but this time, it wasn’t mine. His bitterness swelled, morphing into something dark enough to seize the breath in my lungs, a potent blend of panic and denial and… fear?
I had been so consumed with the power threatening to tear apart my body and soul that I hadn’t stopped to ask where the others were.
My stomach gave a violent lurch as I wondered where my sister was. And Nevara… Why the Visionary, who was sworn to protect this Court, hadn’t been out fighting at his side.
More than that, Nevara cared about Draven. She would never abandon him while she still had breath to fight.
I belatedly registered his words and the implication that Nevara wouldn’t be willing… or able to open the Heartstone chamber.
“When you said we had bigger things to worry about…” My voice sounded too small, too far away.
Instead of answering me though, he pulled me into his arms, and we dissolved into frost and darkness.