Chapter 40
Chapter
Forty
Araya woke slowly, stirring from the deepest sleep she’d had in months. Muscles she hadn’t even realized she had ached, bringing a flush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips. This was where she wanted to wake up every morning, safe and warm in her mate’s arms.
She tilted her head to look up at him through her lashes, not surprised to find him already watching her.
“How long did we sleep?” she asked.
“It’s morning now,” Loren answered, turning a strand of her hair between his fingers.
Araya frowned, pushing up to her elbow to look at him properly. There were still dark shadows beneath his eyes and a tension in his jaw that had no place there after everything they’d done last night.
“Loren.” She covered his hand with hers, stilling it. “What’s wrong?”
He looked at her for a long moment, his jaw working. Without speaking, he raised his other hand, tracing his fingers across her cheek, the curve of her jaw, the sensitive scarred edge of her ear. His eyes followed, filled with an intensity that made Araya’s chest tighten.
“I had a dream,” he said finally. “About the forest.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s…unnerving.”
Araya sat up, pulling the blanket over her chest. “What did it say?”
“Nothing we didn’t already know.” Loren’s hands stroked down her arms, his thumbs tracing slow circles against her skin. “I think it’s time for us to go in.”
Araya nodded. But her heart pounded, cold sweat breaking out on her palms. She’d thought they would have more time. They were supposed to have had more time. They—she wasn’t ready. Not yet.
“We have to go back to the others,” Loren said gently. “They’re probably already looking for us.”
Araya closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Right,” she said. “You’re right.”
She threw back the blankets, grabbing her clothes from the various corners of the room where they had landed last night.
Loren had already pulled on his pants and shirt, the sword from beside the wardrobe hanging at his side.
Gods, had it really only been hours ago that they’d been so wrapped up in each other that she’d forgotten what they were doing here?
Loren caught her by the wrist just as she was buckling her belt, pulling her gently toward him. Araya looked up at him, her heart in her throat as he stared down at her like he could memorize her face.
“I love you.” He squeezed her hand, his green eyes soft. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he continued. “And whatever happens—”
“No.” Araya jabbed a finger into his chest, silencing him. “No goodbyes. We’re fighting to win, Lorendrael. Promise me.”
Something flashed across his face, too fast for her to read without the bond. But he leaned down, dragging her into a kiss that threatened to sweep her up and make her forget everything she’d ever worried about.
“I promise,” he murmured against her lips.
“Good.” Araya stepped back, her lips tingling and her knees weak. “And I love you too.” She turned for the door before her resolve could desert her entirely. “Now come on before I change my mind about leaving this room.”
Loren took them back through the main hall this time, navigating the maze of corridors and staircases as if he’d been here just yesterday.
Araya trailed a step behind him, unable to keep herself from gaping at the faded tapestries that adorned the walls.
So many of them depicted stories she’d never heard, history that the Arcanum had erased.
When this was over, she’d make Loren tell her the story behind every single one.
After all, they’d have time. They were going to have a lifetime together.
They found Caela sitting cross-legged outside the sitting room where the others had made camp. She held an arrow across her lap, nimble fingers flying as she bound feathers to the shaft. She glanced up as they approached, a wide grin spreading across her face.
“Well, look who finally decided to rejoin us,” she said. “Did the two of you have a restful night?”
Araya flushed, heat rising all the way to the tips of her ears. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have left—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Caela laughed, dropping the completed arrow into her quiver. “I don’t think anyone actually slept here last night. Everyone snuck off.”
Loren didn’t laugh. “I’m going to find Finn,” he said, dropping a quick kiss to the top of Araya’s head.
Caela scowled after him. “He’s awfully sour for someone who just spent the night alone with his mate,” she commented, turning back to Araya. “Just because we might all die here doesn’t mean we have to act like it—”
“Don’t say things like that,” Araya snapped.
Caela’s laugh died on her lips. “Did something happen?”
Araya swallowed hard, brushing her hand against the little shadow coiled around her wrist. “I think we’re running out of time,” she admitted. “We’re going into the grove.”
Caela whistled softly. “Better you than me,” she muttered.
Araya nodded, sinking to the ground beside her friend. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “Coming here was my idea. Whatever happens—it’s all on me.”
“It isn’t.” Caela frowned, putting aside her fletching. “You didn’t drag anyone here against their will. We all agreed to follow you—because we believe in you and Loren.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Caela said firmly. “Finn had us go through the armory last night. We have real weapons now, armor—the kinds of things that would have saved lives in Farhallow. And our magic—” she smiled, her face lighting up despite the grimness of their situation.
“I had no idea it would be like this. I feel like I could level a building.”
“I hope you don’t have to,” Araya said softly.
“But if I do have to, I can,” Caela pointed out. “You gave us that, Araya. Kai might have been the one to figure out how to release our magic, but he never even would have been in Farhallow if not for you. Even if we all die here, I’ll die glad I felt my full magic at least once in my life.”
Caela held out her hand. Araya took it, her throat suddenly thick.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said. “But if it does…I’m glad I met you.”
Caela smiled. “I’m glad I met you too.” She climbed to her feet, brushing off her pants. “Come on, let’s find out what we can do to help prepare.”
Things moved quickly after that—with not even an hour passing before Naeva bolted upright from a dead sleep, her violet eyes wild. Araya had never met someone with an affinity for premonition before, but she’d felt the surge of magic and heard the panic in Naeva’s voice. They were close.
Finn spread the others out across the second-floor balcony, where they would be able to pick off anyone who came through the doors below with arrows or stones or magic—hopefully before they even realized what was happening.
Brynn stood at the upper window, ready to rain fire down on them from above.
Serafina set herself up at the back, piles of bandages Araya prayed they wouldn’t need stacked up at her side.
“I should be up there too,” Araya said, watching the others take their positions from where she and Loren stood amid the overgrown garden. “I could shield someone.”
“They wouldn’t be able to fire arrows from behind a shield,” Loren pointed out. “And you’d draw the Arcanum’s focus away. We want them to come straight for the grove.”
“Straight at you, you mean.” Araya wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging her elbows. “I don’t like this.”
Loren adjusted his sword at his side. “My father always said it was good to feel fear. If you aren’t afraid, you’re overconfident.”
Araya shook her head, blinking hard against the tears stinging the back of her eyes.
She could already smell the smoke. Unlike Brynn’s clean-burning flame, this reeked of scorched magic.
The Arcanum’s forces were burning their way through the forest. Destroying trees that had stood for centuries just to get to her.
“Hey—” Loren pulled her into his arms. “We’re fighting to win, right?”
Araya grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down to her in a crash of lips and teeth without caring who might be watching from the second floor. Both of them were breathing hard when they broke apart, Loren’s face filled with something between wonder and fear.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” he said.
Araya’s stomach dropped. “What?”
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “About my mother and how she died. If we lose—”
“No.” Araya shook her head. She didn’t want to hear this.
“We have to consider it, ael’sura.” He cupped her face. “If Shaw wins here, he will kill me. But there’s no reason you have to stand in that grove and sacrifice yourself.”
“Loren—”
“Let me do it.” He talked over her, his voice rough. “It doesn’t have to be you. It shouldn’t be you. You—you can find another way out. Go back to Eluneth, stay in Aetheris—”
“No.” Araya jerked back a step, her eyes burning. “No. Neither one of us is supposed to die.”
“I know,” Loren said, his voice very quiet. “There’s nothing I want more in this world than to live a long, uneventful life with you. In peace. But if that’s not meant to be—” He smiled sadly. “I want you to live, ael’sura. Queen or not, that’s up to you. But live.”
Tears dripped down Araya’s cheeks. He was giving her an out.
She could leave them all—go back to Aetheris or Eluneth, or somewhere else altogether.
Somewhere no one knew who she was. But Loren would be dead.
She’d be leaving Serafina behind to die.
Abandoning Finn and Caela and Kai and Brynn and Naeva.
Araya opened her mouth, knowing she had to say something—but what did a person say when given a choice like that?
The sentry rune shrieked before she found an answer, its shrill whistle shattering the air. Loren flinched, his expression shuttering.
“It’s time.” He dropped his forehead against hers for a moment, their breath mingling between them as the shadows caressed them both. “Fight to win, ael’sura.”
And then he pulled away.
Araya pressed her fingers to her tingling lips as she watched him walk away. The shadows brushed one last lingering touch against her legs before they were gone too, vanishing into the ruined garden. Araya blinked hard, wiping away the last of her tears.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Fight to win.”
And then she turned her back on her mate and walked into the trees.