Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Glass crunched under Araya’s boots.
She was inside the palace this time, picking her way across the shattered marble.
Araya barely spared a glance for the soaring windows or the vines crawling up the broken columns.
Her steps quickened, marble giving way to soft dirt beneath her feet.
A meandering path carved through the ruins of thorn-choked hedges, pale blossoms tangled among spines as long as her hand.
Bones—human and fae alike—gleamed between the vines, long since stripped of flesh and blood.
Araya shuddered, averting her eyes as she passed. None of these people had died a kind death.
But she was almost there. The pull was as undeniable as her own heartbeat now, drawing her forward, forward, forward—
Araya gasped, her eyes flying open. For one panicked moment, she didn’t know where she was. Her heart pounded in her chest, every instinct screaming at her to run—
But the ceiling above her was wood, not canvas.
She could smell the green sap from the fresh branches they’d cut to reinforce the roof, the faint sweetness mingling with the scent of the harsh soap Serafina used to scrub everything down.
It had been weeks since Caylin nearly killed her.
Since Kai drove a sword through Garrick Shaw and carried her into the forest.
She wasn’t in Elvanfal anymore. And the arms wrapped around her did not belong to Jaxon Shaw.
“Nightmare?” Loren asked, his breath stirring her hair.
“Just a dream.” Araya turned carefully in Loren’s arms, letting the cold rain and stone scent of him fill her nose and calm her racing heart. His shadows surrounded them, cocooning them both in velvety darkness.
Safe. As long as she was with him, she was safe.
“Did you sleep?” she asked.
“Some.” His hands smoothed down her arms, his thumb brushing lightly across the little shadow that had been wrapped around her wrist since she woke up. “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine.” Araya pressed a kiss against his shoulder, then stretched up, pressing another to his throat, the corner of his jaw. Loren’s magic raced across her skin, heat flaring between them as her still-healing body greedily drank in everything he could give her.
“Ael’sura—” whatever Loren had been about to say cut off in a rough groan as she shifted, settling herself on top of him. “You’re still healing.”
“Serafina cleared me,” she murmured against his skin. “Remember?”
She leaned forward, deepening the kiss when he opened to the soft flick of her tongue. His moan was music to her ears, his hands leaving trails of fire where they slid over her body, careful fingers tracing each rib—
Until they caught on the first raised, tender line of scar tissue.
Loren froze, his lips turning wooden against hers. He gripped her hips—not to pull her closer like she wanted, but holding her back.
“We shouldn’t,” he mumbled.
We should, Araya wanted to scream. They should, because she was alive and he was here, and Jaxon Shaw couldn’t take this from her too.
But Loren was already easing her aside, rolling away from her to grab his shirt.
Araya would have given anything to know what he was feeling, what he was thinking—but even though he’d stopped the tea their bond hovered just out of her reach, locked away from her by the sor’vael runes carved into her flesh.
“Is something wrong?” she asked instead.
Loren’s shoulders tensed, the pale, scarred expanse of his back tightening as he dragged his shirt over his head. Her own skin prickled at the sight, leaving her suddenly very aware of the healing lines of scar tissue across her back.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said, still not looking at her. “You need your strength if you’re still insisting on going through with this foolish—”
He cut himself off, snapping his teeth shut on the last word. But it hung between them like an accusation.
“Going through with what?” Araya demanded. “Removing the runes? If I recall, you were the one who wanted them gone so badly back on Eluneth.”
“That was then.” He turned, reaching for her. “Things are different now—”
Araya pulled away, grabbing her own shirt from the floor. It was too large for her, hanging nearly to mid-thigh. Serafina had discouraged belting it, concerned the pressure would irritate her healing scars. Everything in her life revolved around those scars, now.
“Different how?” she challenged. They had already had this argument—multiple times. “You said it was my decision.”
Loren dropped his hand, frustration and something rawer flickering across his face. “You nearly died in my arms, Araya,” he whispered. “Haven’t you been through enough pain? Why let another human cut into you—”
“Kai isn’t just another human,” Araya protested. “He got me out. He killed Garrick Shaw—”
“I’m aware,” Loren snapped. “He’s also the one that put those same runes on you. So forgive me for not being more grateful.”
Araya’s breath caught. “Loren—”
“I’ll let you get dressed,” he said stiffly.
He was gone before she could answer, the door swinging shut behind him so quickly that the last of his shadows had to squeeze beneath the door, leaving her staring at the empty space he’d left behind.
The shadow around her wrist tightened its grip, squeezing gently. Araya smiled down at it through the tears suddenly flooding her eyes, stroking it with one finger. At least one of them didn’t care about her scars, or what Jaxon Shaw had done to her.
Maybe it was a coward’s move, but Araya waited until she heard the murmur of voices beyond the door before she finally slipped out into the main room.
Serafina and Kai sat across from Loren at the same heavy wooden table Araya had spent days laid out upon, drifting in and out of strange dreams and confused wakings. Serafina leaned forward, both hands wrapped around a steaming tin cup as she spoke softly to Loren.
“—can’t stay in bed all day,” she was saying. “Part of recovery is getting up and moving around—”
“She’s barely back on her feet,” Loren growled. “She almost died. She can’t just go marching through the forest like nothing happened—”
“Araya,” Kai said, his voice jarringly bright. “Good morning.”
Loren snapped his mouth closed on whatever else he’d been about to say.
“And there she is,” Serafina said, smiling. “How are you feeling?”
“Maybe not like I could march through the forest.” Araya slid into the seat next to Loren, her gaze fixed deliberately on Kai across the table. “But I’m certainly looking forward to having these runes removed today.”
“Well—” infuriatingly, Kai’s gaze flicked from her to Loren, his brow furrowing. “I’m ready whenever you are. But there really isn’t any rush—”
“I want Serafina to examine her again first,” Loren said.
Araya’s head snapped sideways, meeting Loren’s furious green eyes. “Excuse me?”
Serafina made a noise somewhere between a cough and a gasp, burying her face in her cup. “Loren,” she said when she’d recovered. “I’m not sure that’s necessary—”
“It’s not,” Araya cut in. “And I don’t need you second-guessing me,” she added, glaring at Loren.
“I just want you to be safe,” Loren argued. “You almost died—”
“But I didn’t!” Araya shoved back from the table, rising to her feet. “I’m your mate, Loren. Not your ward. So if you don’t like the decisions I’m making about my own body, you don’t have to be here—”
Serafina cleared her throat. “Actually,” she said, slowly setting her cup down. “He does. I only cleared you because Loren can share power with you. Otherwise, it will slow your healing too much.” She winced, glancing between them. “Sorry.”
Of course. Araya clenched her teeth, tilting her face up to stare up at the patched roof. The backs of her eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall. Of course she couldn’t have just this one thing to decide on her own.
“Well,” she said carefully when she trusted her voice again, her gaze still fixed on the ceiling. “I suppose it is up to you after all.”
For a moment no one spoke, the uncomfortable silence stretching too long as Araya blinked hard, fighting not to let the tears fall in front of all of them. Then, Loren’s fingers brushed hers.
“I’m sorry, ael’sura,” he murmured, his voice soft. “I’m not trying to take your choice from you.” His shadows wound around her ankles, cool even through the thick fabric of the men’s breeches she wore. “If it’s that important to you, we’ll do it. Together.”
“It should be important to you too,” Araya snapped, jerking her hand away. “This is what’s keeping me from accessing our bond. Don’t you care?”
“Of course I care,” Loren said, his voice low. “But I care more about your recovery.”
Araya didn’t jerk away when he reached for her this time, letting him pull her back to the table.
She scrubbed a hand across her eyes, a lump in her throat as he wound his fingers through hers, squeezing gently.
There shouldn’t be this distance between them.
Fate had bound them together—it wasn’t supposed to be this hard.
“Alright then,” Kai said, clearing his throat. “Now that that’s settled.” He spread a fresh linen cloth across the table, unrolling his toolkit beside it. “You know once I start, I won’t be able to stop, right?”
Beside her, Loren went still, his fingers tightening around hers. But Araya just stared at the needles, her world narrowing to those sharp, iron points.
“I remember,” she confirmed.
“And some people prefer to have a leather strap to bite down on,” Kai said carefully. “Would you—”
Araya’s heart skipped a beat, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of her neck. For a moment, she was back on that table, leather straps pinning her down as they cut her dress off her. On the rack, as Caylin cut into her—
“No,” she said, too quickly. “No strap.”
“Right. No problem.” Kai pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his face with a shaking hand. “Like we discussed, I’ll start with the ly’ithra rune. Then once that’s off I’ll see what I can do to unravel the sor’vael.”