17. Elorie
Elorie
Three days in Quietus have yet to clear my mind of the prison. Even when I’m awake, the webs of darkness and doubt linger. When I sleep, I slip back into that obsidian hellscape. Only, there is no leaving. I’m falling deeper and deeper.
In breaks between nightmares, I dream of Alyssium. It’s as if I can still feel it even though I’m no longer there. My mother’s hum hangs on the breeze just as it did on the windswept shore.
Wilder pulls me close when I thrash awake, and while there’s this painful distance between us, in those moments, in the darkness, I let him hold me. I close my eyes and let the warmth of his chest at my back be what rocks me back to sleep.
Usually then my mind stays sound until I wake.
For three days, I’ve slept more than not. When Wilder joins me in bed, it’s for brief moments that he’s no longer able to fight his own exhaustion. This morning, he kissed my forehead before leaving the room, and I still feel the press of his lips on my skin.
My body aches with the push and pull. I want to trust him. I want to go back to that moment before the Rite when he held me in his arms, and we consumed each other with our entire being. The bind between us begs me to let him in, but the breach of trust holds me back.
What if he hurts me again?
Pulling on my leathers, I finally leave our room late morning, determined to find Greer and train today. I woke with a clear mind for the first time since arriving in Vaelier, and I plan to put it to good use.
While I assumed my exhaustion was from the prison, Wilder reminded me that my magic is being replenished. Callum, Greer, and I were on Alyssium for months without it. To the point where we were all at risk of suffering the Beating.
Thankfully, we escaped when we did. Magic swims in my veins again. Crisp power sparks at the edges of my fingertips. Smells are more potent, sounds precise. My heart is awake and alert. I didn’t know how much I missed my magic until it returned.
Hummingbirds thrum outside the window, drawing my attention. They flutter in circles, moving so fast I can barely track them. They dance between the branches, darting away just as Aurora turns the corner.
Her dark-copper hair is swept back, as it is every time I see her. The strands are more brown than red. Today’s dress is made almost entirely of feathers, gliding along the floor with every step. The heart-shaped dip of silk at her clavicle accentuates her curves.
“I thought you were someone else.” Her lips purse; her sage-green eyes sweep the hallway behind me.
“You’re looking for Wilder?”
She nods.
“He left as the sun was breaking. I think he was meeting up with Rior.”
“But you don’t know?” Judgment narrows her eyes.
My shoulders press back, and I refuse to answer her question. To let her sow doubt between me and my mate. “Can I help you with something?”
“No.” Her answer is clipped.
Aurora’s chin remains high. Her back straight and hands perfectly folded in front of her. With a crown, she’d be the picture of a queen. Given it’s my mate’s kingdom, that does nothing to put me at ease.
Her green eyes slide down. “Wilder said you’ll be attending the dinner tonight.”
“So long as everyone eats,” I joke, but Aurora’s eyebrows pinch in confusion. “At the Ley Court, they didn’t eat, no matter how much food was set in front of them… never mind.”
She hums, not seeming to care. “I recommend an outfit more fitting for the event. If you’re going to be at his side, try not to embarrass him.”
At that, she turns and walks away with nearly silent footsteps. A war of emotions brews in my chest. I respect that she cares about Wilder and hate it all the same. I respect the role she plays in this court but wish it hadn’t been necessary in the first place.
My irritation only stews further as I make my way through the stone palace, and eyes follow my every movement. Whispers hum behind magical shields so I can’t overhear their conversations.
I know they’re judging me. The half-human soul bound to their king. The girl who once stood at Malachi’s side and vowed to destroy them. Malachi’s court had its challenges, but there’s a fresh tension in Wilder’s that I didn’t expect, even if I should have.
My stomach doesn’t stop spinning until I reach my destination. Letia visited me between naps yesterday and let me know where in the palace the villagers from Alyssium were quartered. Thankfully, her directions were easy to follow.
I stop behind her, tapping her shoulder. “I hope your accommodations are a step up from the village.”
Letia spins with a bright smile on her face, golden hair fanning out. The circles under her eyes are already almost entirely gone, and her cheeks are pink. “A hundred steps up from the village. Have you seen this place? It’s everything.”
When Wilder told me he gave the villagers a wing of his palace, I didn’t expect something so grand.
It’s more than just a hallway; it’s an entire section of the mountain.
A long corridor circles around a private courtyard, with doorways leading into it and a small pool of water at the center.
Rooms line either side, with an open breeze wafting through them.
I step through a doorway to the courtyard and into the sunlight. Closing my eyes, I soak in the warmth of the rays.
“It’s incredible, right?” Letia shields her eyes as she looks up. “Half the group refuses to sleep inside. We’re not used to such a beautiful clear sky.”
At the edge of the courtyard is a line of beds, dragged into the grass.
“It’s so they can look up at the stars,” Letia says, her eyes drifting. “Have you seen them? I never knew there could be so many.”
Wonder lights her eyes, and I remember the stars in the Ley Court. How vast the sky was. How clear without the constant threat of an incoming storm.
“The stars are beautiful,” I agree.
“Your cheeks look brighter.” Letia grabs a basket of clothes and leads the way down the hall. “Did you finally get enough rest?”
I stretch my fingers out, warmth returning to them. “I think so. It’s strange how long it takes my magic to recover from a lack thereof. I never understood why Callum would stay in Ruse Village so long. Now I don’t understand why he ever came back.”
“As if Callum could bear to be away from us.” She winks, and I can’t help giggling.
“Gods, things were simpler then. What I wouldn’t give to go back to drunken nights at the tavern, betting on cards and arguing over who would pay the tab.”
Letia sets the basket of clothes by a basin, preparing them for washing. “But then you wouldn’t have met your beautiful mate. My gods, Elorie. When you described him, you did not do him justice.”
That makes me laugh. “He’s a little distracting.”
“A little?” Her eyebrow hitches. “It’s unsurprising he wields the magic of a god because he’s as beautiful as one.”
My smile turns a little sad as I roll up my sleeves to help her.
“You’re still worried about what he did?” Letia guesses, reading me easily.
I dip a shirt into the warm water, washing it clean. Wilder said there are Fae around the palace who would help with cleaning and washing, but I’m not surprised to see the villagers still taking care of themselves. We’re used to it.
“I’m not worried,” I say, wringing out the shirt. “Things are just tense.”
Between me and Wilder. Between his court and my realm. Between us and fate. Unsettling realities are at every end.
Letia peers at me, frowning. “You can talk to me.”
“I know.” And I do; Letia is one of the few people I know who would never share my secrets.
“It’s just that Wilder and I haven’t had a chance to talk since things happened at the Rite.
Everything moved quickly, and then survival was all that mattered.
I was angry with him for keeping secrets, and then the next moment, I was being ripped away from him.
I’m starting to realize there are things I never processed because I missed him.
Since I’ve been here, I think we’ve both avoided the conversation. ”
“Why?” Her question lacks any judgment, and it makes me pause.
Why am I avoiding Wilder? Because of the secrets he kept?
I convinced myself his lies are the reason I’ve been holding back, but that’s not the full truth.
Deep down, I understand why Wilder didn’t tell me I was his mate. I understand that I had to be the one to feel it—to accept it. I also understand how it could have been used against us had I known sooner, so he was careful in his approach.
I forgive him for hiding that from me.
I forgave him long ago, standing at the edge of the sea, mist in my face. I knew why he did what he did. That’s not what scares me.
Love is.
Love complicates survival. It sways action and opinion. Now that I have a mate, how will our bind affect my free will? How will it alter my decisions?
The people of Lyrichia need someone to fight for them when their king won’t. And since I wield the power of the heart of the realm, that falls to me. But my loyalty to my home is muddled with my bind to Wilder, and that is terrifying.
What if all I am now is an extension of him?
What if I allow this vulnerability and it becomes my downfall?
“I’m scared,” I admit to my best friend.
Letia pauses her hands in the water, looking over at me. “Of what?”
“Love.” It’s utterly ridiculous.
I almost laugh at myself as the word comes out, but Letia’s solemn expression stops me.
“You’re a survivor, Elorie. That’s who you’ve always been. Someone who focuses on what is needed: food, water, shelter. You’ll fight tooth and nail to protect. To provide. Why do you think that is?”
“Because that’s the only option we’ve ever had?”
She shakes her head. “Because you care. You fear love, but it’s what drives you.
It spills out of you with every action. Every word.
I know you’re scared love will make you soft.
But love is not gentle, and it is not weakness.
Love is purpose. It is intent. It is hard and painful, and it is why we’re both still here fighting. Because without it, what’s the point?”
I swallow hard, reaching for Letia’s hand as tears pool in the corners of her eyes. She doesn’t talk of those we’ve lost, but we both hear them in the silence. We remember them when the bustle of the day quiets and we’re left with our thoughts.
“You’re worried because there’s no more distance between you and Wilder for you to avoid these feelings.
We all make mistakes. I sense his were for the right reasons.
Let him love you. You deserve it.” Letia squeezes my hand.
“And let yourself love him. You’d be surprised how strong that can make you. ”
“Thank you, Letia.”
She nods, returning to washing the clothes.
A giggle on my right pulls my attention, and I glance at the head of red curls through the doorway. Perame leans against the wall, smiling at Seren, who has stopped with a basket of laundry in her hands to talk to her.
“She’s been checking in on us,” Letia says, following my gaze to Perame. “Although, I’m beginning to think that’s an excuse to say hello to a certain someone.”
Seren’s cheeks heat at whatever Perame says.
They’re lost in a bubble of conversation, ignoring those walking past. Seren’s long brown ponytail swishes with the excitement in her story, and Perame doesn’t take her eyes off her.
They’re mid-laugh when a Fae male I don’t recognize walks past, and Perame’s smile falls.
Almost simultaneously, Perame and Seren turn their backs on each other and walk in opposite directions.
“Clearly you’re not the only one struggling with love and all its complications…” Letia shakes her head, returning to the laundry.
We wash the rest of the clothes in silence. As I’m hanging the final dress on a line to dry, I glance to where Letia is scratching the back of her hand. Her nails dig under the aeraliss ring, pushing it aside to reveal her reddened skin.
My eyebrows pinch. “Is something wrong?”
She stops rubbing. “No. It’s nothing. The ring itches a little. That’s all.”
“Have you told Callum? Is it the metal? Or the ring? There could be a crack or—”
Letia grabs my hands, stopping my panic. “You know I’ve never cared for jewelry. Nothing is wrong with the ring. I promise.”
But as she turns away, she scratches her hand again, and I can’t shake the feeling that there’s one more thing I might be missing.