Chapter 76 Elowen
ELOWEN
The room they’ve given me is far too grand for someone like me.
The bed alone could sleep a dozen people. It’s draped in heavy velvet curtains the color of deep wine and the canopy above it embroidered with gold thread that catches the flicker of the firelight.
A wide hearth burns steadily across from it, the flames warm and steady, filling the chamber with a soft glow that makes everything look richer, softer…like something out of a dream I don’t belong in.
I stand in the middle of it anyway, hugging my arms around myself as though I might somehow take up less space.
On the far wall, across from the bed, an oval mirror gleams in a carved wooden frame, tall enough to show me from head to toe. I don’t mean to look—but I do.
And then I wish I hadn’t.
I look pale. Drawn. My cheeks are still flushed from crying and my hair a tangled mess of red curls from the bath and everything that came after. But it’s my eyes that stop me.
They are very, very green. Green in a way that marks me. No one looking at me can mistake me for anything other than what I am—a half-breed Fae who’s no longer a virgin and who doesn’t have a husband.
I press my lips together and look away, my throat tightening as I move to sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress sinks under my weight, soft as a cloud, and I curl my fingers into the rich velvet fabric of the coverlet.
The luxury is nice, but I won’t be here long enough to get used to it. I’ll leave early in the morning—before anyone is awake, before anyone can stop me. Before I have to stand in front of Theron and say goodbye.
Because I won’t be able to. Not after seeing him killed and then brought back to life. I won’t be able to handle another parting. Just the thought of it makes my chest ache.
Theron has found his place. I saw it the moment the King—his grandfather—looked at him, the way the Court responded, the way the Drake stood in that vast hall like something ancient and rightful and powerful. He belongs here. He was always meant to be here.
He will make a good king.
Better than good—he has the strength, the temper, and the sense of fairness. He knows what it is to struggle, to work, to live among ordinary people. He won’t be cruel or careless with power. He’ll be exactly what this kingdom needs.
But I don’t belong at his side.
The thought settles over me like a weight I can’t quite shake, no matter how much I wish I could. I stare down at my hands, at the ring still gleaming on my finger—the twin stones, sapphire and emerald, catching the firelight as I twist it slowly around and around.
I shouldn’t be wearing this. I shouldn’t have let myself believe…even for a moment that he could still care for me.
A sob rises in my throat, and I swallow it down, pressing my lips together hard. I should have told him about the witch from the very beginning. I should have trusted him with the truth instead of keeping it hidden, even if I didn’t understand it myself.
And even if he forgave me—even if he wanted me—what would that change?
I am not a queen. I’m a disgraced priestess. A chubby, half-breed Fae girl with no family, no standing, no place in a royal court. I wouldn’t know how to behave, how to rule, how to be what he needs.
I would only drag him down.
My vision blurs again and I blink hard, swiping at my eyes with the back of my hand. I don’t even know where I’ll go after I leave. Back to the temple? But they won’t take me with my green eyes. Somewhere else, then?
Anywhere but here, where everything reminds me of what I can’t have…of Theron.
My chest tightens painfully, and I press a hand to it, trying to steady my breathing. I don’t want to leave him, but I don’t see any other choice. I don’t know—
A soft knock sounds at the door, pulling me from my thoughts.
I sniff and straighten quickly, assuming it must be the maid returning to see if I need anything else.
“Come in,” I call, wiping hastily at my cheeks.
The door opens but it isn’t the maid. Theron stands in the doorway.
For a moment, I can only stare.
He looks…different. Not in the way he always has—big and powerful and a little dangerous—but something else is layered over it now.
He’s dressed in rich court clothes that fit him as though they were made for him—a dark, tailored coat of deep charcoal embroidered subtly with silver thread that catches the light when he moves.
Beneath it, a crisp white shirt is open slightly at the throat, revealing a glimpse of his broad chest, and fitted black trousers mold to his powerful legs.
Heavy boots complete the look, polished but still sturdy enough to suit the man he was before all of this.
The silver accents echo his eyes, the strength of his build and the quiet authority in the way he stands. He looks kingly already.
Something inside me twists and I feel a desperate stab of sorrow. He can have any woman in the kingdom that he wants…someone worthy of standing beside him.
I have never felt smaller or more insignificant.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
My hands fold in my lap automatically as I look down at them, unable to hold his gaze for long.
“Talk about what?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
He steps inside and closes the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the large room as he crosses the space between us in a few long strides.
“About why you want to go.”
I don’t answer because I can’t. I can’t tell him how guilty I still feel about the witch…and how I don’t feel worthy of him now.
He comes to stand in front of me, then reaches out and gently lifts my chin with one hand, forcing me to look up at him. His silver eyes search my face, and his brow furrows.
“You’ve been crying.”
“Sorry.” I swipe at my cheeks again, embarrassed, but he only shakes his head and sits beside me on the bed, close enough that I can feel the heat of his big body against my side.
“You don’t have to be sorry—not for anything, little one,” he murmurs.
“I should have told you about the witch,” I protest, the guilt rising again, sharp and painful. “From the beginning. I shouldn’t have kept that from you.”
“That’s over and done with,” he rumbles. “If she hadn’t sent you, she would have sent another priestess. Someone else would have come looking for me.”
He pauses, then adds more quietly,
“Personally, I’m glad she sent you. Because you’re the only one I want.”
I bite my lip and glance up at him, my heart fluttering painfully in my chest. Does he really mean that? I don’t know if I can believe it.
“You didn’t want me last night,” I say. “You bought me this beautiful ring and acted like we were married…then you said we couldn’t be together.”
My fingers twist the ring again, the twin jewels flashing as they turn.
“That’s because I’m a damn fool and a coward.” His voice is rough, edged with frustration, and I look up in surprise.
“It’s not that I didn’t want you to stay with me—I do,” he says, his tone turning earnest. “It’s that I was afraid if I asked you to stay—and told you what that would mean—that you’d be disgusted. That you’d hate me.”
“Theron, I could never hate you,” I whisper.
I lift my hand, cupping his cheek, forcing him to meet my eyes.
“Look at me. I could never hate you.”
He exhales slowly, running a hand over his horns, his expression troubled.
“You might,” he says quietly. “If you knew what I’m about to tell you.”
“Then tell me,” I urge. “Please…whatever it is that’s standing between us, I want to know.”
He hesitates for a moment, then nods, as though bracing himself.
“All right,” he says. “I’ll just come out with it.” His silver eyes lock on mine. “In order to stay with me…you’d have to Bond with my Drake.”
My heart stutters in my chest.
“Bond as in…?” I trail off, not quite able to finish the question.
He doesn’t look away.
“Breed,” he says heavily. “With him. With both of us. It’s the only way to form a true Bond—the only way to tie our lives together. Without it…we don’t have a future. Not the kind that lasts.”
My pulse begins to race, heat creeping up my neck despite the chill that runs through me at the same time.
His Drake. I’d have to let his Drake breed me.
The memory flashes unbidden—silver scales, heat, the overwhelming sense of power, of size…
“But…he’s so big,” I say faintly, my voice barely more than a squeak.
“He can change his size,” Theron reminds me gently. “He can be my size. He doesn’t have to be…more than that.”
“Oh.” I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. The fear is still there, but I don’t let it overwhelm me.
“Tell me about it,” I say, forcing myself to meet his gaze again. “What would I have to do? How…how would it work?”
He lifts his hand, cupping my cheek again, his touch warm and steady.
“I’ll tell you everything,” he says softly. “Just…don’t say no until you’ve really thought about it.”
“I won’t,” I promise.
But even as I say it, a flicker of uncertainty twists through me.
Oh Goddess…what am I getting myself into?