Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Someone had changed her clothes.
Araya stirred, shifting in the strange, soft bed. She was wearing a nightgown of some sort—but the scent of burned flowers and ozone still clung to her skin and hair, not letting her forget for a moment what she had done.
The float—the bodies. She’d been so angry—
Araya gasped, curling in on herself as power stirred sluggishly beneath her skin, crawling through her veins like lava. She clamped down on it instinctively, forcing it back with sheer will—but it pushed harder. Like it had tasted freedom and wanted to be let out again.
“No,” she whispered, a tear squeezing out from between her clenched eyes and sizzling on her skin. “Stay down.”
Somewhere nearby, a chair scraped. Footsteps—someone moving toward her.
“Stay back,” she groaned. “I can’t control it.”
There had been blood. She’d hurt Loren. Gods, had she killed anyone? Eilwen had been standing right there. If she’d hurt Selan—
“You have to stay calm, Araya.” Thorne’s hand touched her forehead, the cool rush of healing magic racing across her skin. “The more upset you get, the worse it will be.”
“I told you to stay out,” Araya snarled. Her power flared violently, rising to meet his touch with a burning snap. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, her skin prickling with heat as the magic tried to defend her from a threat that wasn’t there.
Thorne swore under his breath, yanking his hand back. But he didn’t step back.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she gasped again. She didn’t want to hurt Thorne. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. But she had. “Did I kill anyone?”
“No.” Thorne’s face twisted, but he didn’t lie, even though he could. “There were a few burns, and some people were injured in the crush—but you didn’t kill anyone.”
She didn’t need Thorne to tell her she had Loren to thank for that. He’d saved all those people—saved her. But now…the bond twisted in her chest, his fury raging through it.
“You manifested, Araya,” Thorne said, his voice soothing. “Your power is still trying to protect you, but it doesn’t need to anymore. I promise, you’re safe. You can let it go.”
Araya jerked out of his reach, clenching her teeth so hard her jaw ached. She wanted to believe him—but all she could smell was smoke, and beneath it, the faintest trace of rain-washed granite.
“Where is he?”
Thorne hesitated, his silence saying more than any answer he could have given. “He hasn’t left Lumaria.”
“He’s so angry.” Araya shuddered. He wasn’t here. He’d left her—again. “He’s going to kill someone.”
“You’re going to kill yourself,” Thorne said grimly. “Let me help you, Araya. Please—”
She tried to shake her head, but the room spun around her, black spots dancing at the edges of her vision. Thorne said something else, but she couldn’t hear him over the roaring in her ears. She couldn’t lose consciousness. She needed to hold on—
The next time she opened her eyes the bond was quiet in her chest—content.
Loren held her hand, his fingers tangled with hers.
Power rushed into her through that connection, as bright and warm as his shadows were cool.
He was offering her his strength, just as she had done for him.
Worse, his thumb brushed gently across the back of her hand, over and over again, steady and soothing.
“Don’t touch me.” Araya yanked her hand away, struggling to sit up despite the warning lurch of her stomach.
“Easy,” Loren said. He moved without hesitation, slipping an arm around her shoulders to help her lean over a basin he must have had ready.
Her whole frame shook as she retched, bringing up nothing but bile. But Loren just gathered her hair back from her face, tracing soothing circles across her back with his other hand.
“You’re—”
“Burned out,” Araya rasped, dragging the back of her hand across her mouth. “I know what it feels like.”
Loren winced. “Of course you do,” he said. “I just—”
“How long did you know what he was doing?”
Loren flinched like she’d struck him, his guilt written across his face. “I was trying to protect you—”
“From what?” Her voice cracked. “The consequences of my actions? The truth? Don’t pretend this is the first thing you’ve hidden from me. All you’ve ever done is keep secrets from me.”
“I didn’t want to trap you,” Loren argued, his hands flexing uselessly at his side. “You’ve already had so many choices taken way from you—”
“But you did. Or are you going to deny you kept it from me because you were afraid of what I’d choose?” Araya shook her head, not waiting for him to give an answer he couldn’t speak. “Tell me—how many fae has he killed just because they look like me?”
Loren stared at her without answering. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and even the living darkness that always accompanied him was strangely subdued, but she hardened her heart, refusing to be moved by it.
She should have refused to feel sympathy for him from the first second she saw him in that cell.
It would have been easier—for both of them.
“You let them die because you were afraid to lose me,” Araya said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And now I’m the one who has to live with that.”
The bond stretched taut between them, his anguish swelling in her chest. It choked her, threatening to sweep her away with the intensity of it. She hated it. Hated knowing that he’d done it for her.
“You’re my mate,” he whispered, his bright green eyes never leaving hers. “I’ll always protect you, Araya.”
“At the cost of your own people?” She shook her head. “Are you even the same male who let the Arcanum torture him for twenty-five years rather than give them anything they might be able to use?”
He flinched from her words, but didn’t deny it.
“I’m going back, Loren,” she said.
The shadows stirred at that, hissing softly.
“That won’t stop him,” Loren argued. “When he realizes you’re bonded to me—”
“I can’t let them kill people because of me.
” Araya stared past him, resolutely fixing her eyes on a crack in the stone wall behind him.
Because if she looked at him…she might not be able to break his heart.
“I can transfer control of the shadows to someone else. It won’t fix everything, but at least the fae can survive here—”
“Using what? Fae blood and bone?” Loren sneered. “What you did with Jaxon Shaw is an abomination, Araya. The Small Council will never agree to it.”
“They’re desperate,” Araya said grimly. “They don’t have a choice. And then I’ll go back…and we can put all of this behind us.”
Loren stared at her. He didn’t explode, or yell, or threaten her. He just…looked at her. Like he had no idea who she was. “Is that what you really want?”
Araya forced herself to hold his gaze. The bond howled in her chest again, clawing at her ribs with every heartbeat.
She wanted him to scream at her. To fight.
She wanted to shake him for every silence he’d kept when he could have told her the truth, every deception leading them closer and closer to this.
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” she said. “It never did.”
For a moment, she thought he might argue. But he just nodded once, standing slowly like he wasn’t quite sure of what to do.
“I’ll tell Thorne you’re awake,” was all he said.
Then he turned, gathering his shadows around him like a shield as he crossed to the door.
Only the smallest lingered, its cool touch brushing across her skin as it hesitated.
It hovered there for a long, silent moment—then slipped silently after him, leaving her truly alone.
Araya stared down at her hands in her lap. There was no blood on them. But there should have been.
Maybe one day Loren would understand that this was the only way. She’d made her choice a long time ago. First, when she gave up her name to the Arcanum. Then again when she’d agreed to become Jaxon Shaw’s bond. That was the path she had to walk, even if it broke her.