Chapter 43
I’m ten years old, rocking back and forth, holding my arms around my legs, crying into my knees.
The sight of the Onyx Wraith’s soulless hands wrapped around my twin’s throat sears into my mind, making it impossible to think. To breathe.
“Elara,” Ferria says softly, trying to coax me out of my misery.
I press my face harder against my legs, unable to look at her. Not without seeing my failure.
“Elara, please.” She sighs. “You have to stop this. Everything is fine.”
“Fine?” A hiccup catches in my throat, turning my laugh into something broken. “There is nothing fine about what just happened. About what almost—”
The word fractures into another sob. I curl tighter, hiding my face, but Ferria’s hands are already there, warm and steady as she cups my cheeks and gently forces me to look at her.
Her green eyes—too sharp and steady for a ten-year-old child—hold mine.
“I’m safe,” she says firmly. “You’re safe. There’s nothing to be scared of. We escaped the forest.”
A shudder tears through me. I press my lips together, trying to trap the truth before it spills out.
How do I explain this feeling tearing me apart?
How do I tell my twin that something irrevocable happened the moment I met that creature’s gaze?
That when I stared into the Onyx Wraith’s malicious eyes, it saw me in return?
That by thwarting the monster with my magic, I lit a beacon in the world that every wicked thing can see. I put a target on our backs.
And I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before they come for us.
Ice-cold water crashes over me, ripping me from the haunting dream. The fragments of my worst childhood memory scatter, dissolving into panic and confusion.
I cough and splutter, shoving myself upright on a sticky, unforgiving surface. I blink furiously, my palms aching as I wipe moisture from my eyes, then gasp.
A man stands in front of me.
No.
A Fae.
Several gold hoop earrings glint along the pointed crest of his ears. Short, stark-white hair is slicked back from his chiseled face, accentuating tan skin and youthful, wrinkle-free features.
He is, without question, one of the most striking men I’ve ever seen.
He’s also wearing the same leathers as the men from the beach. The same as the man I murdered with unsettling dark power that refuses to leave my body.
The ground beneath me rolls violently. The lanterns hanging from the beams behind the Fae’s head sway in wide arcs.
I slam a hand against the wooden floor to keep from toppling over.
My stomach drops.
I’m on a ship.
The pirates’ ship.
And the leather-clad pirate…sailor…whatever the Fae is, stares down at me. A wooden bucket dangles loosely from his curled fingers.
“You’re awake,” he says, his voice melodic and smooth. “Good.”
A shiver ripples down my spine.
“My apologies for the less-than-ideal greeting.” He sets the bucket on the warped floor by his boots. “But time is of the essence, and I need you conscious for what comes next.”
An ominous undercurrent coils beneath his words.
I push wet strands from my face with a trembling hand. “Who are you?”
“Who I am is of no consequence.” He straightens. “You, on the other hand, are of very great consequence, it seems.”
I force myself to hold his gaze, refusing to cower.
His eyes are a clear, bluish-green hue, reminiscent of the shallow ocean tides along the coast of Astloria. They’re…beautiful.
I swallow the bile crawling up my throat and say, “I’m no one important.”
His lips twitch. “Come now, sea star. We both know that’s not true.”
I frown and finally drag my gaze away, unsettled by the intensity in his stunning stare and the taunting nickname.
The cabin comes into focus. It’s smaller than the captain’s quarters on the last ship I was on, but it’s finer, too.
Silver knobs adorn the drawers fixed to the wall, as well as the hinges and clasps of the traveler’s trunk to my right. Cresting waves are carved into the surface of the trunk. Hand-painted scrollwork traces the edges.
Near the bay window, a modest bed is tucked beneath the sill. A plush, silk-cased pillow rests on top of a thick blanket, tucked neatly under the edge of the mattress.
Everything here is high quality. Neat. Not what I imagined for a pirate ship.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“On one of His Highness’s finest sailing vessels.”
My head snaps up. “M-marek’s ship?”
Am I the Fae king’s prisoner?
The male’s upper lip curls, revealing a sharp fang. “Absolutely not. Every soul aboard this ship would sooner drown in a tempest than serve that usurper.”
What?
My gaze flicks to his ears once more, confirming he’s Fae.
He is.
And yet…he doesn’t like the king?
The stranger reads my reaction like I’m an open book. “So, it’s true. You know next to nothing about the world.”
My pulse pounds in my ears as I straighten my spine. “I know plenty.”
“Do you? Well, that’s a relief. I was beginning to suspect the stories of the famed human healer were exaggerated.”
He grins, and the pleased expression illuminates his features.
Heat creeps up my neck.
He’s your captor, Elara. Control yourself!
I close my eyes and think.
This male knows I’m a healer, but he called me human. He could be tricking me, or he might not know I’m part Fae.
Either way, I’m resolved not to admit anything. At least not until I know what’s going on.
Once I’m confident I can look at the handsome stranger without succumbing to distraction, I open my eyes.
“Did the mayor’s wife ask you to abduct me?” I ask, tone flat, hoping my directness will dissuade the male from lying to me.
“Yes.” He crosses his arms and leans a muscular shoulder against the wall next to an oil painting of an unfamiliar island.
I blink.
That was easy…
“Why?”
“Now, that is a more complicated question.” He pushes off the wall, wearing another charming grin. “And considering the fact that you are, currently, my prisoner, I retain the right not to answer.”
My lips twist into a scowl.
He’s certainly not speaking to me as if I’m a prisoner. In fact, I’m not even chained up. Which begs the question—
“What do you want with me?”
He tilts his head, studying me. “That’s another complicated question.”
“It’s really not.”
He throws his head back and laughs. His gold earrings glint in the dim light.
Then he resumes his relaxed sprawl against the wall, ankles crossed, entirely at ease while my nerves coil tighter.
Tired of being looked down upon, I push myself up and rise on shaky legs. My gown’s skirt is stiff with dried seawater and blood, and the top is soaked from his rude wake-up call.
Not two seconds later, the ship lurches. I teeter back, and my thighs collide with a narrow table. A glance reveals that it is cluttered with unrolled maps.
One catches my eye.
“Why do you have a map of the Fae lands?”
I recognize it from the Virendrellian library. Only, unlike that map, this one shows many more towns, roads, and cities peppered across the green landscape.
“You mean Eranthia?” The male crosses the small space between us in two long strides.
I lean away when he stops just in front of me.
He bends forward and purses his lips, making a show of looking over my shoulder at the map. “Interesting… Perhaps you do know things, after all.”
His lips curl into another distracting grin.
I bristle.
I don’t know what to think of this male. He’s not threatening me. I’d almost say he’s…teasing me.
“What do you want with me?” I ask again.
His stunning sea-green eyes swirl like disturbed water.
“I told you…” His breath brushes against my cheek. “That is a complicated question.”
My heart thumps an odd rhythm.
Have I met him before?
Impossible.
I’d remember someone like him.
Shouts erupt overhead.
Heavy bootsteps thunder against the deck above.
I tear my eyes off the disconcerting male and look up, shielding my face when dust falls from the beams.
“Ah,” he murmurs as the swirling in his eyes stops. “Right on time.”
“What is it?” I drop my gaze. “Who’s coming?”
“Your savior.” His lips curl into a mischievous smirk, and he holds up a hand, lifting three of his unadorned, long fingers.
“By my estimate, your grand rescue will occur in three…two…” He lowers a finger with each count. “One.”
The cabin door explodes inward with a vortex of shadow.
Wood splinters fly.
In a blur, the white-haired Fae grabs my shoulders and pivots, throwing himself between me and the blast.
I clutch his tunic on instinct and brace for impact.
But the vortex never touches me.
Streams of shadows spin around me and the stranger, pressing close without making contact.
My wide eyes slide up to the Fae’s face.
Any words I might have said die on my lips.
A storm surges in the depths of the male’s sea-green eyes. Waves crash violently, and the undertow threatens to pull me under.
My depleted magic is nestled in my chest, weakened, but that doesn’t stop it from nudging me forward—urging me toward the Fae protecting me with his own body.
I search his stare. “Who are you?”
The stranger’s lips twitch, but the amusement rings hollow. “A male with terrible timing.”
His thumb brushes my arm.
The darkness in my chest flickers, displeased.
“What does that mean?”
He grimaces. “I—”
“That’s enough,” a familiar voice snarls, and my heart skips a beat. “Step away from her, Erik.”
The male’s stormy stare clears.
My head snaps to the doorway.
The shadow remnants zip through my veins while my thoughts muddle when I identify the male sneering over the threshold.
“Rian?” I stare at the Shadow Prince, ignoring how my heart flips, and zero in on the cut along his neck. “You’re hurt!”
I shove against the white-haired Fae’s chest. His hands flex for a split second before falling away.
I rush to Rian’s side.
I reach out, but he catches my hand before I can touch the wound. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t listen to him, Elara,” another voice says. “He took a nasty hit to the back that needs healing.”
“Jaxon!” I throw myself at the Fae.
He catches me with a laugh. “Come now, love. It’s only been a few days. Surely you didn’t miss me this much.”
I draw back and take in his features—features he shares with his sister.
“How are you here?” I ask.
“I hitched a ride with Erik.”
The white-haired Fae, Erik, steps forward, a smirk firmly in place. “More like you threatened your way aboard my ship.”
Jaxon shrugs. “Well, when I heard you were on your way to abduct a young woman from Virendrell, I knew I had to tag along.”
My gaze bounces between the Fae, brows lifted. “What’s going on?”
Are they friends?
“And that is my cue to leave so you two can explain.” Erik crosses the cabin.
He claps a hand on Jaxon’s shoulder as he passes, making a point to step around Rian, whose agitated shadows curl around his torso and back.
Erik places one foot out of the cabin before stopping and pivoting on his heel. “Oh. Forgive me. Where are my manners?”
A gust of air blows back the strands on my face. I blink, and Erik is in front of me.
I lean against the table as he bends forward and takes my hand.
Sparks radiate from his touch.
I suck in a breath.
He smirks then presses my fingers to his forehead for a prolonged second.
When he finally looks up, he lowers my hand, but he doesn’t let go. “My name is Erik Malestrom. Miss Elara…”
Warmth deepens the color of his aqua eyes.
I cannot explain what possesses me to respond, only that it feels imperative that I do.
“Stonebloom.” I clear my throat. “My name is Elara Stonebloom.”
His eyes glint. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Elara Stonebloom. I only wish it had been under less chaotic circumstances.”
I don’t know what to say.
I dip my chin.
He smiles widely.
Tingles skitter across my cheeks.
Rian growls again. “That’s enough.”
Erik’s smile morphs into another smirk.
“We will see.” He straightens and releases my hand, but he holds my gaze for a moment longer. “Be safe, Elara.”
Before I can respond, he turns and disappears down the ship’s corridor.
“Jaxon,” Rian barks. “Go make sure the others are ready to set sail. We leave within the hour.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Jaxon says with a mock salute.
He shoots me a wink, then leaves, closing the door behind him.
I release a heavy sigh then turn to Rian. “What in the Gods was that—”
My words cut off as Rian wraps his arms around me, yanks me into his chest, and seals his lips with mine.