53. Lora
Lora
“Seriously?” Disbelief churned through me as I stared at the prince.
He nodded, that smug smile adding a dangerous flare to his handsome features.
My gaze dropped to my hands, smeared in sticky crimson. “So your blood opens the Forbidden Archives?”
His smirk faltered. “Only works if it’s fresh, of course.”
“Of course,” I scoffed. “How convenient.”
“Also,” he added, a beat too fast, “the Forbidden Archives is a tangle of winding corridors and endless rooms. And I happen to know my way through the labyrinth.”
I lifted a brow. “So what are you suggesting? We parade over there, offer your blood to the door, and any scholars inside will just accept us loitering about, snatching whatever we want?”
“No.” His tone flattened. “I’m exiled, remember? I’m as unwelcome in the Forbidden Archives as anywhere else in the country. We’ll need to sneak in after dark when the scholars have gone home.”
“Sneak in?” My teeth clenched. “Won’t there be guards?”
“Very likely.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Can’t argue with that.” A mischievous smile curved his lips.
Heat prickled up my neck at the intensity in his gaze, stirring a treacherous flutter beneath my ribs.
Erion hovered beside me like a protective shadow. Ever since returning to the cave, uncharacteristic tension had radiated from his stiff frame. Not just from the reminder of Caldera’s death and the lost guards. Something else troubled him.
Swallowing my frustration, I fixed my gaze on him, softening my voice. “Maybe this is our best chance?” I didn’t bother to whisper since the words would carry around the cramped space anyway. “We really need that sun stone. But… I don’t want to rush us into another disaster.”
My throat tightened at the thought of how I’d insisted on joining Kestrel despite Erion’s objections. Straightening, I met his hazel eyes. “What do you think we should do?”
Tension melted from his shoulders. His fingers brushed my cheek. “I don’t like it, but I agree. It’s our best option.” A gentle smile played on his lips, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. “And with you by my side, I feel like anything is possible.”
Warmth bloomed through me. He was such a tender sweetheart. He deserved everything his heart desired, even if it happened to be me.
A disapproving growl rumbled beside us.
Zaivareth’s eyes blazed, sending prickling tingles up my spine.
“What?” I snapped.
“Nothing,” he muttered. “Just trying not to choke on all the devotion.”
“Must be difficult.” I fixed him with a cold stare. “Seeing people actually care about each other.”
His expression hardened, something dangerous flashing in those amber eyes. But he bit back whatever retort burned on his tongue.
“Great. Glad we settled that.” I turned my attention to the torn flesh beneath my palms, pouring soothing glow through damaged muscle and coaxing tendons to knit back together.
I spent the better part of a candlemark working on his leg. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I wrestled with magic that had never come naturally to me. By the time I’d repaired most of the damage, exhaustion dragged at my bones.
Erion and Kestrel had gathered leaves into makeshift beds, and I didn’t even bother washing my blood-crusted hands before crawling onto one of them.
Birdsong drifted through the cave opening as my eyes fluttered open.
Erion knelt beside me. “Morning. Or should I say afternoon?”
“Mmm. Already?” The word scraped in my throat as I blinked away sleep.
Across the cave, Zaivareth rose from his bed. He carefully shifted weight onto his injured leg and took several steps without wincing or limping.
“Completely restored.” His gaze found mine, something unreadable flickering in those amber depths as he dipped his head. “Thank you, Lora.”
Heat climbed up my neck, and I tore my attention away. By the deep, I preferred his insufferable smirk to this honest intensity.
Kestrel popped up from his leaf bed, smacking his mouth with a displeased expression. “Does this mean we’re finally leaving? Because I desperately need a river to freshen up. I’m pretty sure something died in my mouth while I slept.”
After a meager breakfast of leftover bread, we set out, stopping at the stream to wash up. Kestrel and Zaivareth agreed Sunrise City should be around half a day’s walk away.
We pressed onward in tense silence. The prince led the way with confident strides. Nothing in his movements betrayed yesterday’s wound. Either he bolstered himself again, or my healing had worked better than I’d thought.
Erion stayed close by my side, his hand occasionally brushing my back as we navigated the uneven terrain.
By the time the sun disappeared below the treetops, the city’s tall wall loomed before us, stone ramparts rising like teeth against the darkening sky. As we neared the road leading to the main gate, two men heading away from the city strolled past.
“…go about catching the Dual Wielder alive? How would you even contain him?”
Erion stiffened, backing into the dense underbrush, his entire body rigid.
“Contain him?” The second man scoffed. “First off, you’d need to be a wielder, you scorching fool.”
“I’m not talking about me, you ash-wretch. I mean in general.”
They passed without noticing us standing ten paces into the tree line. Parchment crinkled between the first man’s fingers, and the sketch caught my eye, its rough lines forming a face.
I mouthed to Erion to stay, then hurried onto the road. “Excuse me.”
Both men turned.
My pulse hammered as I forced casual curiosity into my tone. “Sorry, I just heard you talking about the Dual Wielder. What’s going on?”
The one clutching the parchment thrust it toward me. “A new message from the King. He’s raised the reward for capturing the Dual Wielder. And now they’ve got his image too.”
My fingers closed around the rough paper.
The face staring back at me turned my blood to ice. The earnest features and those expressive, round eyes. Stars and sea. Every detail captured Erion with devastating accuracy. And the reward had been doubled to two hundred crystals, provided the Dual Wielder was brought in alive.
I offered the poster back, but the man waved a dismissive hand. “Keep it. It’s not like we’re going to catch him anyway.”
He launched into a theory about requiring at least a dozen sun wielders to capture him, but I cut him off with a “thank you” and spun away, clutching the parchment as I hurried back into the trees.
“Well, this can’t be good,” Kestrel said as I showed them the drawing. His hand landed on Erion’s shoulder with an awkward pat. “Every man, woman, and child will be hunting for you now, buddy.”
Erion’s teeth gritted as he stared at the drawing.
I searched his face. “You understand what this means, don’t you? You can’t go into the city.”
His gaze flicked to me. “What?”
“You can’t come with us. It’s too dangerous.”
“You mean you’ll go without me?” His hands fisted at his sides. “No, absolutely not.”
“Erion, please.” I brushed his shoulder. “Kestrel can keep you company while Zaivareth and I sneak into the Archives.”
“Oh?” Kestrel’s voice chirped. “I’d love nothing more than to stay behind, truly, but I need to get into the Archives too, remember?”
Erion ignored him, hazel eyes burning into mine. “I’m not staying behind while you head into danger. If you go, I’m coming too.”
Kestrel’s cheery voice drifted through the tension. “For the record, I have absolutely no problem staying behind while others head into danger. But I do need my—”
“Don’t you get it?” Frustration surged through me. “You’d put me in more danger by joining us. With that poster out, every person in Sunrise City will be hunting you.”
Erion’s jaw set. “Then you should stay behind. I’ll go with the prince.”
Heat flared in my chest. “That’s ridiculous. Someone will capture you!”
Kestrel piped up behind us. “So, um… does that mean I stay here with Lora?”
My gaze slid to Zaivareth. Amusement flickered across his face. That infuriating smugness only grated against my nerves.
“I don’t care if I’m ridiculous.” Erion’s eyes flashed. “I’ll do whatever you need me to, but I’m not leaving your side.”
Fury ripped through my chest, tearing loose words I’d kept buried deep inside. “How can you do what I need you to when you can’t even control your powers?”
Erion flinched as if I’d struck him, and regret instantly crashed over me. Drowning stars, what had I just said?
“Erion, I—” My throat tightened around the apology.
He stiffened, his expression closing off.
Ebbs and darkness, I wanted to snatch those words back and swallow them whole.
Kestrel raised a finger. “For what it’s worth, I’m excellent company. You two should be fighting over who gets to stay behind instead of throwing yourselves into mortal peril.”
His chatter invaded my mind, scrambling my thoughts, and my insides twisted with renewed irritation.
He rocked back on his heels. “But honestly, I don’t care who stays or goes—just as long as someone retrieves my family’s cookbook from the Forbidden Archives.”
My annoyance stuttered as I whipped toward him.
Zaivareth spoke before I could. “Cookbook? You want to break into the Forbidden Archives for a cookbook?”
He flashed a wide grin. “Oh, right, I never got to that part. Well, have I got an epic tale for—”
My hand shot up. “This isn’t the time.”
I grabbed Erion’s wrist and dragged him several paces from the others, lowering my voice. “Please, Erion—you’re being unreasonable. You can’t head into the city. It has to be me. I promise, I’ll be fine. I need you to trust me.”
“I trust you,” he hissed under his breath. “It’s him I don’t trust.” He jerked his head toward Zaivareth.
The prince leaned against a tree, arms crossed, amber eyes pinned on us.
“Him?” My gaze flicked between them. “What happened to winter melting into spring?”
Erion huffed. “It’s the spring flood I’m worried about.”
My eyes widened. “Oh come on—you’re not jealous, are you?”
His lip curled in an uncharacteristic snarl. “Haven’t you seen the way he looks at you?”
A prickling heat crawled beneath my skin. “You’re imagining things. He glares like that at everyone.”
Erion fixed me with a flat stare.
I cupped his cheek. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it quick.” My thumb traced his tense jaw. “You’ll barely notice I’m gone.”
His features softened as his hand covered mine. “I always notice.”
His arm slid around my back, pulling me against his chest. His lips claimed mine—not with the gentleness of our kiss in the keep, but with fierce possessiveness. Part of me couldn’t help but wonder if it was more a statement for prying eyes.
As I kissed him back, something hot coiled in my chest at the thought of those amber eyes watching us.
Pulling away, my breath unsteady, I took his hand and led him back to the others.
Kestrel gazed at the canopy overhead, gentleman enough to offer Erion and me some privacy. But Zaivareth stared at us from beneath his lashes, head angled downward, like he’d tried to look away and failed. Those amber eyes burned with an intensity that made my pulse stutter.
I forced steel into my voice. “All right, prince. Let’s get this over with.”
Kestrel’s gaze snapped to us. “Oh, great! And you’ll grab my family’s cookbook too, right?”
My chest tightened. Another task to juggle while sneaking through a labyrinth of forbidden items. “I don’t know if—”
“We’ll find it.” Zaivareth’s low voice cut me off, his gaze fixed on Kestrel.
I shot him an annoyed glare, but he ignored me.
“I’d be endlessly grateful.” Kestrel beamed.
“It’s bound in leather with ‘Uma’s Cookbook’ stamped across the front.
” His voice cracked slightly, his usual cheer dimming.
“It’s been in my family for generations.
Every previous owner has added their own recipes, sketches, and notes in the margins.
My mother and father contributed a few of their own, and…
” He swallowed, fingers twisting together. “It’s all I have left of them.”
My annoyance melted away. “We’ll do our best to find it.”
Kestrel grinned wider than ever. “Great! And we’ll wait here.” He patted Erion’s shoulder. “We’re going to have so much fun, don’t you think?”
Erion didn’t answer. His gaze fixed on me. “Be careful.”
“I will.” I squeezed his hand before letting go.
My stomach twisted as I trudged through the underbrush toward the road with Zaivareth following behind me.
Madness—that’s what this was. Pure, rotten madness.
How in the twisted deep had I ended up here? Breaking into one of the Sun Kingdom’s most secure location with my enemy, the tide-sodden sun prince himself. The man who’d hunted us and tried to kill me.
But he’d also saved me.
And now he claimed he wanted to help.
My insides squirmed as we stepped onto the road and Zaivareth strode up beside me, matching my pace.
Trusting him might prove a fatal mistake, but I had no choice. The eclipse loomed less than two weeks away. Before then, we had to secure a sun stone, figure out how to use it, and return to Blightlands so Erion could seal the rift.
Time was running out.
I drew in a calming breath. One thing at a time.
Right now, I just had to sneak inside the Archives, grab the stone, and get out. Even if it meant teaming up with my enemy.
I could do this. I had to.
For Erion. For Caldera.
For Mother.