55. Lora #2
“Here, let me see.” I grabbed his wrist, cradling his hand in my palm as I called on my healing magic. Cool energy flowed from my fingers into his torn skin, knitting flesh together. “Did it occur to you that maybe you just needed to prick your finger? You should try that next time.”
That infuriating smirk slid back across his lips. “You enjoy giving orders, don’t you?”
Annoyance prickled through me. “I enjoy keeping us alive.”
The wound sealed beneath the blue glow, leaving only a smudge of dried blood across his palm. Releasing his hand, I stepped back.
He studied the healed flesh, then lifted his gaze to mine. Something unreadable swirled in those amber depths—something soft and warm.
“Thank you,” he murmured, voice low, almost reverent.
The unexpected tenderness sent tingles racing across my skin. I instantly wrapped my veins in a new wave of dousing chill.
“Don’t mention it.” I pivoted and marched through the doorway before he could see the traitorous blush threatening to break through the cold.
He shoved the heavy door closed behind us.
The flame above his palm multiplied into a dozen glowing orbs that drifted toward the ceiling.
Their golden light spilled across towering shelves crammed with oddities.
Chipped pottery, tarnished jewelry, rusted tools—and books.
An entire section sagged under volumes ranging from massive tomes to slender journals, some bound in leather, others in fraying cloth.
Zaivareth strode toward the nearest bookshelf. “If Kestrel’s book is in here, this is where we’ll find it.”
My gaze snagged on the range of curious objects as I drifted past. Each bore a small tag dangling from twine.
I snatched a tag attached to a wooden toy talanox with only five legs and a broken horn.
Faded ink revealed a name and what appeared to be a village somewhere in the Sun Kingdom. The owner of the toy, perhaps?
A frown creased my forehead. “Why are all these broken things locked away in a heavily guarded place like this?”
Zaivareth rifled through a row of books, pulling them out one by one, glancing at each cover. “This is where the sun guard sends everything they deem suspicious or dangerous. The scholars work through each item to determine if they pose any threat. If not, they ship them back to their owners.”
My gaze swept the shelves, taking in the sheer volume. “How long does that take?”
His hand paused mid-reach. “Last time I was here, I heard them complain about lagging years behind.”
“So some child has been waiting years to get their toy back?” Annoyance flared in my chest as I reached for a wooden box with flowery patterns etched onto the lid.
Books scraped across the shelf as the prince yanked them out. “Would you prefer we return cursed objects to them?” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening. “Don’t touch that!”
But I’d already cracked the box open.
A churning mass of insects crawled out, scurrying over the rim in a writhing wave. A yelp tore from my throat as I stumbled back.
Strong fingers clamped around my arm, hauling me behind a wall of muscle. Violent flames flared in front of him, casting orange light across the shelves.
My chest clenched at how fast he’d moved to protect me, positioning himself between me and the unknown threat.
Clutching his tunic, I tugged him back. “Relax, hothead. It’s just bugs.”
His tense frame sagged on a growling exhale, and the flames guttered out, leaving only the floating orbs above.
Pressing my hand over my thundering heart, I peered around his shoulder at the box. Half-buried beneath crawling larvae sat what might once have been sweets, now bloated with mold and decay. Why would the sun guard confiscate a box of pastries? Had they truly thought it was cursed?
Either way, I shouldn’t have opened it. A twinge of guilt curled in my stomach for letting curiosity overrule wisdom in a place like this. But I’d rather drown than admit that to the prince.
He turned to face me, frustration radiating from him. “Stay close and don’t touch anything but books.”
I met his glare head-on. “Look who enjoys giving orders now.”
Those amber eyes narrowed, but something mischievous danced in their depths. “I enjoy keeping you alive.”
My pulse skittered, heat tingling across my skin. I reinforced the chill through my core. He’d thrown my own words back at me, except he’d changed us to you. What a load of silt-waste. He was just messing with me.
“Could have fooled me,” I sneered. “Considering the number of times you’ve hurled molten metal at me.” I moved past him toward a bookshelf, rifling through books at a rapid pace.
He angled up beside me. “I believed the Dual Wielder a threat.” His voice came low, stripped of its usual sharp edge. “A weapon forged by the Moon Queendom to be used against us.”
My hand stilled on a spine as he spoke.
He pulled out a book, studied the cover, and shoved it back. “I came after you—after him—” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Because I was hunting a lie I’d never thought to question.”
I wanted to shout at him that he rotten well should have questioned it, but the words lodged in my throat. Could I blame him, really? I would have eagerly jumped to the same conclusions about the Sun Kingdom if the roles had been reversed.
And the sincerity in his voice tugged at something raw inside. That part of me still carrying the loss of Caldera and the remorse of distrusting her for far too long.
But while Caldera had showed us nothing but kindness, the prince had hunted us, fought us, and caused the death of our friends. I could never trust him.
By the deep, I needed to focus. Find the cookbook, grab a sun stone, and escape this suffocating space. The sooner we finished this, the sooner I could breathe again.