Chapter 7
Seven
Charoite
Someone clears their throat, and Leda’s expression shifts into pure hatred, her eyes flashing with crackles of light. A familiar slender frame steps from behind her, his hair disheveled and eyes hollow.
I finally let my gaze settle on him, the bitter taste of anger coating my tongue as his golden eyes meet mine.
Adrian. The market boy who I thought was my friend, the prince who became king, the man who wanted to put me in a pretty dress and call me his without any regard for whether that’s what I wanted in the first place.
Every feeling that has run through me over the last day races in my mind as I stare into the face of someone I used to trust. Someone I can blame.
Adrian came here with Reichardt and the Lyle boys—he abandoned his throne, none the wiser that he left it to his uncle, who wasn’t just the duke, but a bloodthirsty, corrupt human who deals with dark magic.
It’s Adrian who interrupted our journey to find Daimon. It was Adrian who distracted us from retrieving the lost souls from the trial.
All of the feelings I’ve had to shove away to focus on fighting—on staying alive—come crashing down. The unfairness of Graylen saving me, losing himself in the process. How we failed to get Daimon to help us release the trapped souls…
I grab onto the one emotion I can make sense of, the only thing that keeps me from drowning. Rage.
Adrian walks toward me and stops a few steps away, opening and closing his mouth twice as hesitation swirls in his gaze, before he finally says, “Amira—”
Leda growls a warning and positions herself closer to him. He clears his throat again, shifting his weight away from her and closer to me.
“Not her name, boy,” Leda hisses.
Adrian coughs, nodding and taking a small step back. That’s when I notice the Lyle boys standing quietly behind him. Goddess, even they made it here somehow. Opal’s brothers eye me with suspicion—even Mica, who’s watching me with a guarded expression.
“Lunaria,” Adrian starts over, his gaze on me again. “Are you okay?”
My nostrils flare. Am I okay? Physically, I’m fine—more than fine.
My magic feels full, much stronger than it probably should be given how much I used the past day, and there’s hardly more than a few nicks on my skin.
Even the wound on my shoulder has healed from the guard who attacked me when my father and Adrian were trying to take me back to Crea.
The reminder of Adrian being a part of that—of putting a collar around my neck to suppress my magic—twists the rage inside of me, heating it into molten lava. He may have come to his senses and helped me escape, but he was half the reason I was there in the first place.
His right does not excuse his wrong.
I take a step toward him, and whatever he sees in my gaze causes him to shrink back, shuffling away from me.
“You don’t get to ask me that,” I whisper, my voice laced with accusation. “Not now, maybe not ever.”
Placating small-minded men who think they know what a woman needs is not something I’m interested in doing.
His eyes widen, somehow surprised by my reaction.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Leda step up beside me, her rage as palpable as my own.
“If it were up to me, we would’ve left you in that clearing,” she growls.
Surprise flickers in my chest at having Leda on my side. It feels…nice. Like this is what having a sister is supposed to be like.
“Or toss you into the seas for it to decide your fate,” I mumble.
Leda looks at me, a smirk on her face that I mirror.
“Is there a problem?” Willow interrupts, and we all turn to look at her, not noticing she and Aster had rejoined us.
Her gaze is warily set on Adrian, her eyes lingering on the rounded ears that show through locks of wild hair.
I shake my head, but the question is far too loaded to answer honestly. Yes, I want to scream. There is a problem. More than ten, at least.
“We’ll take them to a place they cannot leave unless allowed,” Aster says in a deep timbre.
As if on cue, the soldier trailing them walks back to Adrian and the Lyle brothers, a band of roots shooting from the ground and locking their arms behind their backs.
Protests ensue, but everyone ignores them. “And guarded at all times.”
Willow nods and adds, “Follow us.”
They begin to walk toward the village, our party following them.
But I can’t find it in me to move. My feet remain steady against the ground, my eyes drifting from the village to the empty trees.
Rage still courses through my veins, my pulse tapping like a woodpecker’s beak knocking against bark. Exhaustion clings to my friends, but not to me. Not anymore. My body is now buzzing with an awareness that I can’t settle—can’t seem to quiet.
I can’t leave Graylen, can’t lie down and pretend like he didn’t just throw himself right into the fire for me.
He would stand at the edge of the Vale and tear his way through the Shadow Lands for me if I were the one trapped with Vidaris.
Even if it killed him, even if it shredded his soul into a pit of darkness, he would do it.
My breath quickens as they start to walk away, but I can’t go. Can’t just leave knowing Graylen isn’t safe.
“Wait.” A whisper is all that escapes my lips, so quiet I can barely hear it over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. The scent of smoke begins to fill my nose, my Essence awakened by my frustration.
“Wait!” This time, the word tears from my mouth, the insects of the forest falling silent as my voice echoes through the trees.
I feel the eyes of everyone snap to me, but I keep my gaze on the two fae who brought us here.
“I’m not leaving him,” I snap, pausing to calm my rapid breaths and the heaving of my chest.
“Lu, we can’t get Graylen—” Leda starts.
“No,” I growl. “I’m not filling my belly with food and giving my body rest knowing where he is.”
Willow tilts her head to the side, and I explain in a rushed hiss, “The man that I love is trapped in the Vale. I’m going to get him back.”
A strangled noise comes from behind me, followed by a curse that sounds an awful lot like Adrian. I ignore him, pushing ahead.
I nod to Aster with the hope that I can appeal to his connection with Willow as I say, “If it were Willow stuck with Vidaris right now, would you leave her? Would you not risk everything to get her back?”
Aster’s eyes flash with pain, and I know that I’m right—that he would do anything for the woman beside him.
He opens his mouth, but Leda steps between us, her gaze cold.
“You’re no good to Graylen if you get yourself killed trying to get him back,” she bites out, her stare unwavering. “Not a single one of us is in any state to go back there.”
Leda may be right, but that doesn’t lessen the way my skin crawls without him near, or the way my muscles haven’t relaxed since watching him shove Vidaris back into her realm.
“But I feel—”
Her hands grip my shoulders, fingernails digging into my flesh until tears spring into my eyes. The pain grounds me, gives me something to grab onto.
“Fine?” She laughs bitterly. “We haven’t eaten in nearly a day, you just killed the only father you’ve ever known while simultaneously learning he wasn’t your father by blood. None of us are in a place to properly plan a rescue mission. Take a deep breath—we can figure this out together.”
Her fingertips relax a little, her gaze softening slightly. “I know it feels like you’re abandoning him, but getting yourself caught by running there without a plan? It would make what he did for you be in vain. Do you want that?”
I blink back the tears that blur my vision.
“You need rest,” she adds, looking around at our group. “We all do.”
The fire in my chest begins to cool, but it doesn’t ease the pain. Doesn’t ease the burning desire to ignore Leda and fly headfirst into the Shadow Lands. But as much as I hate to admit it, she’s right.
Leda waits until I nod before she releases me, turning around toward Willow and Aster without a second glance. Calix comes up to my right. We still don’t know who these fae are or why they saved us, but none of us are in any shape to fly, so we have no choice but to follow them.