Chapter 19
“Help!” I shouted as loud as I could, my throat burned raw.
Lights flickered on throughout the village, illuminating the surrounding windows.
Luckily, my cries were heard. Within minutes, three guards arrived and helped me carry the prince the long way back to the castle.
He slipped from my grip, crumpling onto the cold stone. I cursed under my breath as the men grabbed Glade under his shoulders, hauling him toward home.
I jogged alongside them, matching their frantic pace as we wound through unfamiliar streets.
My pulse bellowed like the pounding of a drum as we passed through the castle’s gatehouse, up the long, winding path and inside.
Finally, we reached a heavy chestnut door at the top of a staircase I had never climbed.
“You!” I snapped at one of the guards. “Go get my handmaiden, Kaiyah. Now!”
The guard returned my request with a simple yet effective nod before turning and sprinting off down the hall.
One of the men supporting Glade kicked the door open, and they moved inside.
A handsome, darker-skinned guard with cropped, textured hair turned to me. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine,” he reassured me, placing his palm on my shoulder. “I’ve seen him look way worse.” His attempt at humour fell flat, betraying his consoling efforts.
They delicately laid Glade on the night-blue sheets of his bed and began stripping away his bloodstained clothes, one by one. I backed toward the doorway, giving them some space. Then he groaned my name.
“Jane…” His freckled chest was a mess of scattered slices, his torso bruised a sickly purple, and his right wrist covered in horrific toothy marks. Typical Glade, he tried to sit up, only for the guards to push him back down. Still, he mumbled under his breath, “Stay.”
After a few tense minutes, Kaiyah rushed in. She dashed to Glade’s side, then glanced at me.
“What happened?” she nearly yelled. The calm and thoughtful handmaiden I had come to love had been replaced by a detached and numb medic, prepared to treat her patient.
My throat tightened. How could I explain it? One moment, Glade and I were dancing in the tavern, and the next, we were ambushed by some monstrous thing while we were…
Oh God, what had we done?
Mercifully, Glade saved me the trouble. “We were attacked,” he ground out, wincing through the misery. “The Tenebrae—they sent a mutant. I’ve seen something like it before, but this one was…bigger, stronger.”
He gritted his teeth as Kaiyah took hold of his wrist and closed her eyes.
A scintillating violet Light pulsed from her hands, sinking into Glade’s skin. The effulgence travelled through his arms, into his chest, and up to his face, soothing each injury along the way.
I gawked at Kaiyah’s work.
Before my eyes, the wounds that covered Glade’s body faded away, leaving him as almost untouched and pristine.
Glade’s eyelids fluttered uncontrollably and then heavily fell. Within moments, he was asleep in an almost comatose state.
Kaiyah released his wrist and sighed. “He nearly punctured a lung. I managed to heal the wound in time, but if he’d been any worse off… I don’t know if there would be much I could do.” She glanced at me. “I can heal injuries like these, but not fatal ones.”
She faced the guards, her voice crisp and curt. “The prince is stable now. You’re dismissed.”
To my surprise, they obeyed without question, though the guard I had spoken with lingered, peeking back at Glade with visible concern. Kaiyah cleared her throat, and the man reluctantly left.
With the room finally empty, Kaiyah turned to me, her hands on her hips, her pupils blazing with fire. “Jane, what the fuck happened?”
I stepped back, startled by her vexation. Before I could stammer out a response, she cut me off.
She raised a hand, her facial features tightening into rigid thin lines.
“Why were you in the village with the prince in the middle of the night? Why do you reek of ale? And what kind of thing did this to him?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, the exasperation in her eyes mingling with a flitter of fright.
“The Tenebrae…they’re sending monsters to Ornath now? ”
“Glade wanted to cheer me up,” I said carefully. “We went to a tavern, had a few drinks, maybe danced a bit.” I avoided her gaze, feeling the lie burn like acid in my throat.
Kaiyah’s jaw dropped, and her eyes widened.
Her hand flew to her mouth, muffling an involuntary gasp.
“You’re telling me you got drunk with the prince?
You’re set to marry his brother in two months” She stared at me like I was the most idiotic person alive.
“Have you lost your mind? If the king finds out, he’ll throw you in the dungeons. And who knows what he’ll do to Glade.”
A pang of guilt clenched my heart.
She studied me for a long moment, her scrutinizing gaze subduing, though her voice remained stern. “Jane, understanding your role within this universe, this prophecy, doesn’t make it any easier to live with—to accept. I get that. But it is an incredibly vital role.”
Conviction clenched my heart in its grasp, silencing the complaints echoing from my egocentric brain.
Kaiyah’s hand reached out to clasp mine. “Just by being here, you’re giving the people more power than any Light or machine. Just by being here, you’re giving the people hope, and that’s worth more than any weapon.”
My mind relived the moment I felt the Source Light enter me, and I could still feel the prickling sensation as it coated every inch of my body.
I felt incredible—invulnerable. I could see the creature’s body fly across the alleyway and singe with smoke.
I could still smell its burnt flesh lingering in my nostrils.
Amantius granted me her very own Light as a gift to power the rebellion against the Tenebrae.
She did not intend for me to just be a little subdued wife to Jion.
The Goddess needed me to unite with him, to unite the people, and fight for the freedom of the universe.
We were meant to break this vicious cycle together.
That was my destiny.
I bowed my head, agreeing with Kaiyah’s very words. Partying with Glade had been foolish and ignorant. From now on, I would be entirely and solely dedicated to one thing only: perfecting Amantius’ Light.
Kaiyah offered a sympathetic smile, brushing a hand against my cheek before pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Get some rest, Jane. You’ll need it.”
With that, she gave Glade one last glance before slipping out the door.
The room was then hushed, perfectly noiseless, save for the sound of the prince’s soft snore.
I glanced over at Glade. Even sleeping, he looked impossibly impeccable.
Even though Glade was always a force of nature—intense, vibrant, untamed—he looked almost fragile now.
His bloodstained clothes lay in a heap on the floor, a fierce contrast to the calm that settled over his face.
I leaned against the bedpost, monitoring him from a distance, knowing that might be all I’d ever allow myself to do.
His chest rose and fell in a stable rhythm.
His mouth hung open just slightly, and his long auburn hair spilled away from his face, fanning smoothly across the plush pillow.
Not a single mark marred his skin now, only dried blood, dirt, and his intricate swirls of dark tattoos, yet I couldn’t stop the persistent and intrusive thoughts of what might have been if she hadn’t been here.
A shiver crept down my frigid spine, nipping at my heart like a bitter warning, as the image of his broken, bloodied form lingered at the edge of my mind.
What if Glade had died?
That vicious and unrelenting demon had been twice his size. If I hadn’t managed to harness and wield Amantius’s Light…Glade would be dead.
I crept to the bed and sat beside him, careful not to disturb his slumber. For just a moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like if things were different, if there were no prophecies or destinies.
Lying down beside Glade, I turned to face him on my side, taking in every line and curve of his face.
This would be the only time I’d allow myself this closeness, this fragile illusion of intimacy.
From this moment on, I would lock away the wild, forbidden feelings that had seized this night.
Henceforth, he would be my trainer, my friend, and eventually, my brother-in-law—nothing more. That was how it had to be.
I edged closer to Glade on the mattress, feeling his warmth radiate from him, and reached out, my hand hovering just above his chest. Slowly, reverently, I let my palm settle over his heart, feeling the mild, steady beat beneath my fingers.
Thump, thump, thump…
Relief washed over me.
He’s alive. He’s alive.
The words played on repeat in my mind, a mantra that quieted my own anxiety.
When had I started caring so deeply whether Glade Everkain lived or died?
I couldn’t say. I’d known him for barely a week, yet somehow, it felt as though he’d always been a part of me.
Something had changed between us on that dance floor, a connection that left me aching to feel his presence, his touch, again and again, endlessly, forevermore.
Glade’s heartbeat pulsed beneath my fingers, and a bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as if in his state, he sensed my presence.
He was alive.
All was well.
He would be okay.
Leaning in, I pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, where his freckles clustered like tiny constellations. His eyes fluttered at the touch.
“Goodbye, Glade,” I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath, as my heart splintered into a million fragmented pieces.
With that, I slipped out of his bed, making a silent vow to never be in it again.