51. Wilder
Wilder
Atlas sits in a chair beside Perame’s bed, watching Seren pull the sheet to her chin. If it weren’t for the hum of her shallow breaths, I’d think we’d lost her. Perame’s pale cheeks are a sheet of white against her orange-red curls. Her body unmoving.
Seren brushes the back of her fingers over Perame’s cheek, but then, as if she realizes what she’s doing, she pulls back, clearing her throat when she spots me.
It snaps Atlas out of his thoughts, and he also looks my way.
“How is she?”
Atlas glances at his sister, his throat working. When he’s yet to respond, Seren is the one to answer.
“She’s alive. We won’t know the extent of the damage until she wakes.” Tears pool in her eyes, but she wipes them before they fall, quickly looking away. “I should leave you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s fine.” Seren rushes past me out of the room.
Her face is turned away, but the wave of emotion that rolls off her as she slips around the corner only rivals that of Atlas, who has yet to move.
To blink.
To so much as say a word.
I circle the bed, stopping on the other side. Perame’s hair is duller than I’m used to. Her skin paler. We aren’t sure how much magic was stripped away, or if there’s a seed left that will replenish once she recovers, so all we can do is wait.
“I’m sorry. I should have gone with them.”
Atlas’s jaw ticks. “And then what? We could have had you lying here in her place?”
“Better than her.”
He doesn’t argue, even if I know he doesn’t wish that fate on me. Perame doesn’t deserve this. She’s the light in the room, always smiling and keeping the rest of our spirits up when we grow weary. She’s the heart of the court. The joy.
Now, she’s quiet and dull. No longer shining.
At least we reached them the moment they came through the Arch, giving her the best chance. The second I sensed Elorie’s return to the realm, I abandoned my meeting to get to her. Only, Elorie wasn’t waiting for me outside the Arch in Andare like she should have been.
It took a few moments to make sense of her thoughts from a distance, which is when I realized the Mortal Realm released her at Everquell.
With magic muddled by the Well, the Arches have been unpredictable.
It took her to where our secondary court once stood.
Thankfully, we got there before the creatures barreled in on them. Especially with Perame like this.
“You should get to your meeting,” Atlas says, his tone pure grit.
“It can wait.”
“It can’t, and you know it.”
I clench my teeth, wishing he wasn’t right, but now that everyone has returned, there are things to do, decisions to make. “Perame will wake. She’s too strong a fighter not to.”
“I know,” he says, for me or himself. “Let me know what you need from me once you’re done.”
I nod, turning to leave the room.
Greer stands in the doorway, frozen. Her mouth opens like she might say something, but then she snaps it shut just as quickly and walks away. Atlas stares at the open doorway where she once stood with an unreadable expression on his face.
He’s too distraught for me to ask what’s going on between the two of them, so I let it go, leaving the room to find Elorie, who went to bathe and change while I checked in on Perame.
The moment I spot her at the other end of the hall, my magic surges forward. It can’t deny her nearness. An aether bind pulls her close, and my lips are on her. She wraps her arms around my neck, making me whole.
She’s here.
She’s safe.
Guilt and relief blend together when I know she could have been in a bed beside Perame. I could have lost her. But she’s here now, smelling of a winter-kissed pine forest. Hair unbound as I run my fingers through her silky strands and pull her close.
A throat clears beside us, and I groan against Elorie’s mouth in frustration. Which simply makes her smile.
Greer hitches an eyebrow at our side. “Should we reconvene in the morning, or can you two separate long enough to take care of business?”
“Greer!” Elorie pushes out of my arms, throwing herself at her friend. “Wilder said you were back, but thank the Gods.”
Elorie hugs Greer tighter, and it takes a moment for Greer to reciprocate. She’s frozen as Elorie whispers something. Then her hands find Elorie’s back, and she closes her eyes, nodding once in answer to whatever Elorie said.
When they pull apart, their faces are solemn.
“We can’t put this off until morning.” Elorie frowns, her gaze moving between us. “If what I saw in the Mortal Realm says anything, I doubt we have much time.”
All I want is my mate to myself—a moment to breathe her in. To exist, just the two of us. And when Elorie’s eyes meet mine, I sense she wants that too. But our responsibilities come first.
By the time we reach the meeting hall, everyone is there besides Atlas and Perame.
It takes all my effort to not sit Elorie on my lap. This long without her, and I’m aching to have my hands on her—my lips on her. It’s like a part of me has been missing, and now she’s returned.
Aurora is the last to arrive, shutting the door behind her.
Once we’re all seated, we go around the table, sharing what we’ve learned in the time we’ve been apart.
Elorie and Callum alternate telling us about the state of the Mortal Realm, and Greer stays quiet the entire time as if her thoughts are elsewhere.
Elorie’s experience in the Mortal Realm is nothing like my recollection of it. Over the past century, it’s clear things have changed, and they’ve been making up their own stories about the Fae.
Callum leans back in his seat when he’s done recalling their time with the overlord, while Greer sits straighter.
“You swore you’d look out for them.” My tone is clipped, gaze on Callum. “How did they manage to capture you?”
“It’s not his fault.” Elorie rests her hand on mine, but it does little to quell the thought of someone putting my mate in obsidian shackles. “We got out, and we made it back.”
“Perame is barely breathing.”
“That’s on both of us.” Elorie frowns, and I’m struck by the guilt she’s carrying around.
Guilt I’m fueling by directing my anger at Callum. It’s not either of their fault; I just hate that I wasn’t there to protect her.
“I’m sorry.” I close my eyes, taking a deep breath before looking at Callum again. “Thank you for being there for them. I know you did all you could.”
Elorie laces her fingers through mine. “I know you did too.”
The table turns to me, and I update everyone on what happened in their absence with the mercreatures and my meeting with Celeste. Rior manages not to shift in his seat, but his gaze is fixed out the window.
Finally, Greer tells us about Solace. About Malachi setting up magic collection sites in Lyrichia. About traveling the Echme forests and thinking they found Malachi, only to discover it was an illusion. A trap.
“He’s strong.” Greer bites her bottom lip. “Stronger than anything I’ve seen before. And that’s saying a lot considering the two of you sitting across from me.”
Elorie and I share a look.
“So we have no lead on where he might be.” I sigh, frustrated that Elorie risked her life finding the void—a human girl at that—only for us to have gotten nowhere before her return.
“That’s not entirely true.” Greer leans forward, her eyes darting to Elorie. “Malachi told us that you already know where he is.”
“Me?”
Greer nods at Elorie’s question. “He said he told you when you last saw him.”
Elorie’s face pinches as she thinks. Through the threads, a hundred thoughts run wild all at once, making it impossible to keep track of them. Until confusion finally slips, and it’s replaced with something far more terrifying: fear.
“The prison. When I went back to find my mother and Malachi came to see me, he said a few things that didn’t make sense at the time.
” She pinches the bridge of her nose, replaying it in her mind.
“He wasn’t there physically, of course. Like you said about seeing him in Echme, he was an illusion, projecting himself.
It was confusing, and he was speaking in riddles.
I assumed nothing he said meant anything. ”
“He seems to think it did.” Greer frowns.
Elorie’s gaze is distant, glassy. “He said that the time would come that I would need him. That when I did, I could find him where the river meets the sea and the Well drinks us down. At the peak of a full moon.”
“It’s a full moon in two days,” Rior points out, and Elorie nods. “Yes, but if he knew back then that we were going to need him, doesn’t that make this a trap? He already told you he knew I was in the Mortal Realm. What if he knows we found the void?”
“We don’t know the void is what he’s after. He might want something else,” I argue.
Elorie grips my hand, her magic flooding through the threads and erasing the emptiness I felt only hours ago.
“It doesn’t matter what it is he wants; he’s right. We need him, and he told us exactly where he’ll be… I think?”
“He did.” I squeeze her hand. “Where Mal Remere meets the sea in Rohldova is as far as the Well reaches at the moment. At least, that’s what our scouts have reported. I doubt it’s changed much in the past few days if Malachi is as powerful as you say he is.”
“Especially if his magic is controlling where the Well splits.” Elorie hitches an eyebrow, remembering what I told her about the reports from Andare.
“Say he is as powerful as you think.” Aurora speaks up for the first time since entering the room.
Her nails tap the stone table, scratching the surface as she curls them into a fist. “What then? We show up with the void—the one weapon in our arsenal that might strip his power—and hand her over. We could blow our only shot.”
“What else do you suggest?” Elorie lifts a brow.
They sit on opposite sides of the table, eyes narrowed. The caw of birds fills the silence as Aurora’s irritation wakes the forest surrounding the mountain. Aurora’s magic stems from an affinity for the creatures. She can hear their secrets, learn from them, ask for their help.
Whatever annoyance stirs in her thoughts now has them chittering. Just as Elorie’s magic sparks beside me. The room brightens with a cool glow. Bright in a way that only the night can be when a star draws near.
“We’ve come this far; we need to see the plan through. We’ll go to Lyrichia,” I decide, hating that we’re walking into a trap but knowing it’s our only option. “But we don’t give up the void immediately. Esen stays back until we know why Malachi wants you there.”
“Maybe I should go alone.”
“No.” I put my foot down. “That’s out of the question. We’ll go, but you’re not walking into this alone.”
Elorie swallows, nodding and thankfully not arguing with me for once.
“Official plans can wait until tomorrow.” Rior pushes to stand with Greer right behind him. “We could all use a night to wrap our minds around this.”
“And sleep,” Greer adds, although she doesn’t look the least bit tired as she quickly leaves the room.
Aurora stands, pausing when she reaches the doorway. “I assume this means tomorrow night’s festivities are still happening? Or are we pushing that off too?”
“Festivities?”
“I’ll tell you in a moment.” I caress Elorie’s thoughts through the thread.
“I’ve missed you in my mind.”
“Same, Starfire.”
“Yes” is all the response I give Aurora before she walks out of the room, shutting the door behind her when everyone else is gone.
“Aurora is colder since I left.” Elorie glances over at me. “I didn’t think that was possible.”
“I had to draw some lines while you were gone.”
“And?”
“They’re drawn.” I lift Elorie so she’s sitting on the table in front of me; a whoosh of air leaves her chest.
Elorie’s fingers grip my shoulders. “I feel like I could use another bath even after soaking as long as I did. Traveling settled in my bones.”
“You could be covered in ravager blood, and I wouldn’t mind. You know that.” My fingers drift up her thighs.
She grins as I reach her hips and tug her closer. “I forgot how charming you are, King Riven.”
“Speaking of…”
Her eyes widen. “Are these the festivities you were referring to? You’ve finally made a decision.”
“I’m claiming my crown,” I confirm, and for the first time since deciding I would do it, it feels real as I tell Elorie. “Tomorrow night, the territories will send representatives to witness the ceremony.”
“Seems like I returned just in time.”
Standing, I now tower over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I told them it wasn’t happening until you came home.”
“Why?”
One word.
One question.
Filled with so much emotion as she blinks up at me.
“Because I need you.”
Elorie buries herself against my chest, wrapping her arms at my waist while I breathe in the top of her head.
“I missed you so much,” I whisper, not able to form words, so I send them to her through the thread. “Crown or no crown. Life or death. I was aimless without you. You helped me find my path. I’m nothing if not yours. You’re my home, Elorie. My soul, my heart, my being.”
She blinks up at me, and I brush a lock of hair off her face. “I missed you too, Wilder. I missed being here.”
“Why does it seem like that makes you sad?”
“It doesn’t. It’s just… I always thought the Mortal Realm would feel like home. That it was where I belonged, and if I could only go back there, everything would make sense. Growing up on Alyssium, I dreamed of one day going there. But then I did, and I realized something.”
“What did you realize?”
“The ground beneath my feet meant nothing. The only place I belong is wherever you are. Whether that be in Lyrichia. In Vaelier. In the Mortal Realm or in Sarrow. Where you are is my home, Wilder. Crowns and titles and realms don’t matter. Only you.”
My heart jumps to my throat, and I’m at a loss for words, so I lean down and kiss her to unbind this emotion surging in my chest. Elorie sees me beyond who I am or who I was. Beyond my crown or name or title. Beyond the good I’ve done or the blood I’ve spilled.
She sees the depths of my soul.
And she’s all I see when I lay her out on the table and strip off her clothes, unable to wait for our bedroom to feast on her.