Chapter Sixty-Eight
ELYSSARA
The jungle is still, too still, as if it’s watching us.
The further we get from Thornewood, the more palpable its sentience.
Even the air shifts—heavier, quieter, expectant.
The trees’ bioluminescence brightens with our presence and dims as we move past, confirming what I’ve known in my bones since arriving—it senses us. It senses me.
No one speaks. No one dares to.
We simply ride, watching, waiting, alert.
I look down at my chest and see the compass dangling between my breasts. The dial of the compass points straight ahead, never deviating from our destination. It wants me to go there. The compass drives me forward, urging me to keep going.
Ronyn surges his chestnut mare forward in line with us, “So, what’s the plan, El?” His roguish grin kicks up the corners of his mouth, and he adds, “Aside from not dying, of course.”
I huff a laugh, “That’s about as far as I’ve got when it comes to the plan.” I pause for a heartbeat, reminiscing on the sheer recklessness of all the raids, stealing and brawls we encountered—or incited—in Virellin. “But you know I don’t need one. Blind stupidity is as good a plan as any, right?”
“That’s my girl,” Ronyn agrees. “It’s worked for us all these years. Why stop now?” Throwing me a wink over his shoulder, he trots ahead to catch up to Therion. Kael stiffens behind me, his hands clenching around the reins in front of me.
What is it? I ask through the tether.
He doesn’t respond, and just as I go to probe him again, his voice rumbles back down the tether: you’re not his girl.
Kael, don’t be ridiculous. You know he doesn’t mean it like that.
The tether quiets, but his jealousy buzzes like static under my skin.
Kael’s possessiveness has become more intense over the last few days. It coils tighter every time someone else even utters my name. I don’t know if it’s just Zak’s presence that’s setting him on edge or something deeper.
“I know,” he finally says out loud with an audible exhale, releasing the tension from his posture. “But I want the world to know you’re mine.” He presses a hand to my thigh, infusing his strokes with hot need, “And you know I don’t share.”
Before I can reply, the air thickens, and the steady hum of insects ceases instantly.
Therion turns and gives Kael a sharp nod.
We’re here.
The trees part, the vibrant canopy gives way to an unnatural darkness, where obsidian trees rise like monoliths. Too tall. Too dark. Too oppressive.
The trees reach skyward, and loom downward. Watching.
The glow beneath us dims into nothing—even the moss is too afraid to breathe. As if even the light dares not enter.
Ahead, through the veil of vines, it awaits.
Starlit Grove.
My breath hitches at the sight in front of me—the contrast of the onyx trees is offset by the twinkle of vibrant silver bioluminescence that runs through the trunks of the trees like starlit veins.
It truly is a grove of starlight. I rush to remind myself that despite its intimidating beauty, this grove is a seer of legitimacy. A judge and executioner for those it doesn’t consider worthy. A shiver licks up my spine at the thought.
Kael, sensing my unease, soothes me down the tether, I’ll keep you safe, El. Nothing will touch you.
I swallow thickly and slide off Nyx, never taking my eyes from the Grove’s looming canopy.
Kael dismounts with fluid grace, and turns to Therion, “You know what to do if today doesn’t go to plan.” It’s not a question, but a statement. They’ve talked about this already—the possible outcome.
Therion nods tightly, “I’ll be at the edge of The Grove. I’ll only move in if you give me the signal.”
The weight of this moment presses down on me, gnawing at me.
“Morrathys can’t have you today, El,” Ronyn’s words are heavy but loaded with sincerity. It’s rare to see Ronyn without his signature cavalier attitude, which is why it hits so much harder when he drops it and chooses candor instead. “I’ll be right here.”
“Best let the Lightborne go first, Kael. No telling what might sneak up behind you,” Zak’s vindictive words slice through the heartfelt moment.
“No,” Kael responds smoothly, and I’m mildly impressed by his restraint. “I go first, Elyssara follows on my signal.”
“You don’t come back, Kael, and Nalya is as good as dead,” Zak seethes.
“If Elyssara doesn’t come back, so are you,” Kael replies sharply. “You’re only useful to me if she’s alive, Zak, and don’t you fucking forget that.”
Kael spins to me, and holds out his hand. “Ready, your highness?” he banters, all signs of malice are replaced with levity, as if we’re not just about to walk into a death maze.
I slide my hand into his.
My palm is steady.
My heart is not.
“Let’s see if The Grove believes the prophecy.”