Chapter 5
Aurora
Thorn tells me that the messenger, Caelum, gave us a week to decide before he would return to collect me.
This eases Soren’s tension somewhat, as it gives him more time to train me and keep me under his watchful eye.
But it only heightens my anxiety, causing me to spend the next several days on edge.
I want to get to Camryn as fast as I can and back to the people I love. It seems like a cruel twist of fate to deal with this amidst the king’s impending return, but maybe it’s just divine timing.
Thorn meets with the Silverveil council again, informing them that this could likely expedite our plans to reform the rebellion.
To my surprise, Numara offers to help with my magic training.
The rest of the council agree to impart their magical knowledge to me before I depart to the Northern Shadows.
I’m standing in the field, staring up at the sky, when thunder claps overhead as the council members arrive at Stonesmoor a few days later.
I look up wearily, hoping the rain will hold but also secretly wishing for a raging storm so I can retreat inside and pretend none of this is happening. But Camryn needs me.
I withdraw deeper into my cloak, flipping the hood over my head.
Numara strides across the field, her stark white hair whipping in the breeze.
Moira walks close behind her, her bright yellow eyes darting from side to side.
Merric trudges behind them, looking as unpleasant as ever.
Estis lags behind, a sly grin on his face.
His eyes scan the length of me. I flush and shift awkwardly on my feet under his scrutinizing gaze.
I clear my throat as the group gathers around me. “Thank you for coming. For helping me.”
Numara flashes a friendly smile. “It’s the least we could do. We can’t very well send a lamb into the lion’s den.” She winks at me, and I can’t decide if she meant to offend me or not.
Merric grumbles something under his breath, but I do my best to ignore him.
“Shall we?” Numara asks, offering me her arm.
I push my shoulders back and slide my arm under hers. Merric demands a fire and a quiet workspace, and he trudges toward the house. Moira skips beside me, grasping my other arm and giving me a warm smile, while Estis slinks behind us.
Moira and Estis stand aside while Numara pulls me to the center of the field. Her feathered wings spread wider from her back, and I imagine it can’t be comfortable to tuck them in so tightly as she did at dinner the other night.
I’m tempted to reach out and run my finger across their downy softness, but I bite my lip to stop myself. Her gaze heats my face, and I glance up to see her deep brown eyes studying me. Her mouth curves into a slight smile. “You can touch them if you’d like.”
My eyes widen and heat floods my cheeks.
“What? No. No, that’s okay. I was just ...
admiring them. They’re beautiful.” I take a deep breath.
“What are you? I’m sorry. I haven’t gotten used to all the different fae here, and I don’t know how best to ask.
” My skin heats from embarrassment. What are you? I cringe at myself.
Numara chuckles softly. “You’re kind of a novelty to us as well, so we will learn together.” Her eyes sparkle as she speaks. “I’m a seraph.”
My brows pull together. “Seraph? Like an angel?”
“Human beliefs differ from ours, but I believe it’s a fair comparison. Yet, I am not a messenger of a god. My people aim to protect magic itself and all beings in our fae realm.”
“Oh,” I say quietly. I suddenly feel incredibly incompetent and very human. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “What do you plan to teach me?”
“I wield powers of light myself, so I’d like to see what you can do with that explosive magic of yours.” She grins at me and takes two steps back.
My skin heats, and I abruptly feel on display. Like I need to perform for the highest master of a craft I am not worthy of practicing. “Um, I’ve really just been learning how to call upon my flame and fire it, sometimes as a flaming arrow.” I couldn't feel any smaller if I tried.
But Numara stands tall and tips her head. “Show me.”
I hesitantly pull my bow and an arrow from my back and get into position. My legs part to the width of my shoulders. I lift my hand and look down the line of my arm to the tip of the arrow. I imagine it aflame. My magic sparks to life and with another breath, a small flame ignites at the end.
With a renewed sense of confidence, I aim for the tree line thirty yards away. Exhaling, the arrow flies from my fingers before striking the base of a thick pine tree. The flames lick up the bark before it fizzles out.
I glance at Numara, feeling unsure but slightly pleased with myself.
“Nicely done. Quite impressive for someone who, until a few months ago, was living a simple human existence with no knowledge of the power that burned inside her.” Numara’s praise makes me stand a little taller.
A slow, solemn clap breaks the moment, and I turn toward Estis, who’s standing with a smug look on his face. “Yes, very good. If Lord Arc is looking for party tricks, you’re the girl.”
Moira scrunches her nose and opens her mouth to say something before she changes her mind. My cheeks heat again.
“Oh, Estis. You’re always one for positive support,” Numara teases.
Estis strides toward me. “I’m just saying, despite what Soren may believe in his delusions, Lord Arc won’t let you waltz into his palace armed, weapons or otherwise.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You’re focusing on the offense when you should really work on your defensive magic. What will protect you once you are disarmed?” His silver eyes spear into me, prickling down my spine.
Unable to look away from his gaze, I take half a step back. “Like shielding?”
Estis’ mouth curls into a sly grin. “Yes, something like that.”
Numara rolls her eyes.
“May I?” Estis reaches for me, taking a measured step.
I want to recoil, unsure of what he wants from me. But I nod, fearing my voice will spill out cracked and unsteady.
He takes the bow from my hands and tosses it on the ground. His silver eyes stay fixed on me, unflinching. I shift on my feet.
Suddenly, a breeze licks up the back of my neck, scattering goosebumps across my skin. My heart races and a primal instinct tells me to flee. But I can’t pull my gaze away from his liquid silver eyes, which I swear churn like whirlpools.
My vision goes dark, and I erupt in sheer panic, unable to move my body. I’m frozen in place, staring into the darkness of my subconscious.
A delicate touch brushes inside my mind, like the caress of a hand trying to find its way in the dark. I shiver.
Then there is blood. So much blood.
My vision comes roaring back to life, bringing with it horrific images of a battlefield littered with broken bodies and anguished screams.
I want to cover my ears, but my arms hang heavy at my sides. As I scan the field of the fallen, my eyes land upon familiar faces. Olin’s face is pale and hollow, dribbles of blood dried around his mouth. My heart races faster, my breath trying to keep pace.
Clara is the next I see, her neck contorted at an unnatural angle. Her red hair spills over the blood-stained earth. Bile rises in my throat.
The next image in the horrific vision would have brought me to my knees if I could move. There, with a long blade lodged clean through the center of his chest, is Soren, his amber eyes drained of light and cast eternally at the somber sky.
The sound that erupts from my throat is unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. Shrill, guttural pain tears through me and blasts across the field. I long to hold him, to caress his face and beg to be taken next. But I can’t move. Can’t reach him.
My magic bursts through my skin, illuminating me like I was bathed in stars.
The vision is sucked from my mind like a vacuum and a familiar voice floods my ears.
“AURORA!” Soren’s booming, pained voice pulls me back to reality.
As if my heart heeds only his call, the spell breaks and Soren’s troubled face is in front of me before my limbs give out, sending me crashing toward the ground.
Soren’s powerful arms wrap around me before I kiss the earth. He lifts me to his chest, and my frantic eyes search his face, making sure it was only a cruel vision. He stares back at me, his amber eyes wild. “You’re okay. You’re okay, My Flame. I’ve got you. It wasn’t real.” He strokes my hair.
I heave a heavy sigh and rest my head against his shoulder. The glow of my skin fades from the comfort of his touch and I no longer feel like flames will erupt from my throat.
Soren turns his attention to Estis, who is watching us with utter boredom. “What the hell do you think you were doing?!” Soren’s nostrils flare as his expression hardens.
“She must learn how to protect herself or that illusion will very much become reality,” Estis replies dryly.
“You’re such a prick,” Numara says, glaring at him before softening her gaze at me.
Soren huffs and carries me toward the house.
“You won’t be there to protect her. She needs to learn how to protect herself from someone like Lord Arc,” Estis calls to Soren’s heaving back.
Soren stops, and anguish ripples through his body. I know he is struggling with not being able to be by my side. But Estis is right. I need to be strong. I need to learn how to protect myself. And I needed to be reminded why.
I can’t fail them. I can’t fail him.
“Soren,” I say, searching his face. “Set me down. I’m alright.”
A low groan rumbles in his chest, vibrating against my trembling body. But he knows I’m right. He can see it in my earnest gaze. I need to keep training if I ever want to be stronger. If I can ever face the darkness without him.
He stares into my eyes, and his stoic demeanor fractures further. I give him a faint smile. He lowers me to my feet, keeping a grasp tightly on my waist to ensure I’m steady.
I wipe away the wetness from my cheeks and push my shoulders back. Soren’s hand trails around to my lower back as I move toward Estis.
I stop in front of the unflinching fae, who looks down his nose at me. “Okay. You’ve proved your point. How do I shield myself?”
Estis grins and studies me. “Oh, this will be fun.”
I spend the rest of the day working with Estis to lock him out of my mind. Numara and Moira watch from the sidelines, giving me helpful advice and moral support. But it zaps my energy and focus to push back against his invasive magic.
I imagine my mind wrapped in the warm embrace of my magic, casting a blinding light to keep out the darkness that tries to seep in. I’m able to hold Estis off for almost a minute before he finds a crack in my shield. But it’s the best that I can do for the day.
I’m so exhausted that I crawl into bed after dinner and a long bath, tucking myself into the safety of Soren’s arms.
I don’t even have the energy to speak after the grueling day, and he doesn’t press me. His hand slowly strokes my back, lulling me to sleep.
Despite his efforts to comfort me, I can practically hear his mind whirling as the days tick closer to me being swept away to the Northern Shadows. There is no time to waste.
I will either be ready to face Lord Arc or I will die trying.