Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rhune
It starts with a ripple.
Not in the air, but in me. The kind of shift I’ve come to know by instinct—the drag of magic brushing against me, too polished and invasive.
Sorryn.
His power reaches me before he does, like it’s announcing his arrival, demanding surrender in its presence.
I don’t wait for Serenath’s command, knowing this is far too big a display of my powers for him to see. My shadows uncoil before she even turns to me with wide eyes, clearly noticing the tremble in our protective barrier.
She trained all of us and is well adept at sensing our powers.
“Replace them all,” she says sharply, but I’m already in motion.
My shadows pour from beneath my boots, cold and fast, wrapping around the forbidden texts and sweeping them from the table. They slither up the shelves, repositioning themselves where dust still clings.
Serenath’s face pales as she reaches for a new set of books, whispering titles under her breath for me to pull simultaneously. I mirror her urgency, summoning the texts that are basic and boring enough to make Sorryn yawn, despite being in this restricted area.
She slides one toward the center of the table. “Surface theory. Passive affinities. Nothing volatile.”
I nod, sending a final thread of shadow up to one of the tomes that slanted slightly on the top shelf, righting it to match the others.
All along Elysia stayed seated in the chair, mouth agape as she watched my shadows work. For once she didn’t demand to know what was going on, simply staring with curiosity and restraint that felt a lot like … trust.
The dome trembles again.
He’s close now.
I close my eyes and collapse the light barrier, forcing it to retreat into nothing but dust. The second it fades, I slide into the shadows at the edge of the alcove, where I can watch without being the centerpiece of the room.
The curtain parts and there he is.
Sorryn steps into the alcove like a cat that has trapped mice he’s been hunting. Light clings to his frame in a way that makes lesser people mistake him for something pure.
I know better.
His gaze sweeps the room once before it lands on Elysia, and he smiles.
It’s not friendly or warm, if you truly know him. It’s a smile that establishes his power over the room—that he’s in control.
“Well,” he says, voice smooth and sharp all at once as his gaze slithers over to me. “Quite the little hideout. Tell me, Rhune, what is the reason the Queen and her instructor are hiding away back here?”
I don’t answer. My jaw stays clenched, the bite of my molars grounding me more than anything else in this room.
Anything I say will provoke him … we both know it.
So, I remain silent and watch, careful to keep my gaze off of Elysia.
Serenath doesn’t blink, intervening smoothly. “For the Queen’s safety,” she replies coolly. “I’ve found the library less private than one might expect these days. I fear the workers may be too interested in the new queen.”
A lie. Polished, perfect, and close enough to the truth to pass. Everyone is interested in the new queen. They all want a glimpse and a moment to know her.
Sorryn steps forward, slow and calculated. His magic brushes mine in challenge. I keep my shadows tight, coiled behind my spine. This isn’t the time to display my strength to him. I’ve played weak for far too long in front of him to ruin my facade now.
He glances at the tomes on the table, fingertips grazing the nearest cover.
“Surface theory,” he muses. “Harmless. Dull. Not the kind of thing that typically requires secrecy.”
He looks at Serenath again. “Unless there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”
Her expression doesn’t change. “Only if you think your queen’s safety and privacy aren’t worth the extra caution.”
A beat of silence follows, and just like that, she flips it back on him.
I almost smirk.
Sorryn doesn’t flinch, but I see it, the smallest crack in his composure. He hates being challenged. Especially by women who are smarter and unimpressed by him.
His eyes flick to Elysia and that’s when she moves.
I watch her posture soften as she steps around the table with an elegance that doesn’t come from fear, but from confidence. Very quickly my little dove is beginning to blossom into the queen we need her to be. One who reads situations for what they truly are.
I know her strategy before she even speaks. She’s going to play him and get him off of our trail.
As much as the thought makes me want to wrap my shadows around her to keep him away, I swallow my possessive urge. This is the best play for the situation.
Her hand lifts gently, trailing along his forearm as she meets his eyes. “You came all this way to check on me?”
My breath catches and it shouldn’t.
Sorryn straightens, smile blooming into something smug and shining. “Of course I did. It’s only right that I make time for my queen.”
She smiles. It’s perfect and measured.
She leans just a little closer, looking up at him beneath her lashes. “Do you have time to stay with me for a while or do you need to get back? I’d like to know more about the court … and you.”
My hands curl into fists where they’re hidden behind my back.
The flare in his expression is too bright to be anything but victorious. “Of course I have time for you.”
He turns with her, already steering them toward the exit like he owns her. He pauses just before the curtain and tosses a look back at me, thin-lipped and taunting.
“Rhune,” he says, “take the rest of the day off, won’t you? No need to stalk the halls like a shadow with nothing better to do. You may join us at dinner to resume your post if you must.”
I say nothing. I don’t nod. I don’t blink.
The hatred burning beneath my skin doesn’t have a name right now. The way he looked at her and claimed her in front of me like she was already his.
Elysia’s eyes find mine and it’s like I sense her internal plea to take a breath. To trust her. It soothes the rippling anger undulating in waves within me.
Finally Sorryn’s eyes melt away from me, abandoning his obvious quest to get a rise out of me.
My shadow is already slithering beneath her hem, curling quietly and invisibly beneath her steps. I will know if she’s in danger.
The moment they vanish beyond the curtain, it’s like the room itself exhales.
I stay frozen in the corner, eyes on the spot where they stood.
Serenath lets out a slow, shaking breath and lowers herself into the chair Elysia had occupied. Her composure fractures just slightly, but that’s all it takes for the weight of what just occurred to truly settle in.
“That,” she says, smoothing the front of her robes, “was far too close.”
He wants her badly as it is, I think bitterly, but if he knew …
“I fear that if he had even a whisper of the power she may be able to wield,” I murmur as a shudder rolls through my body, “that he wouldn’t give her a choice of which king she binds herself to.”
Serenath’s fingers curl tightly against the table’s edge.
“He’d take that choice away the moment it no longer swung in his favor.
While what occurred with the last queen is still hearsay …
we must continue to treat the situation with unwavering faith that he has done such heinous things. We cannot falter.”
The words sit between us, heavy and unspoken for too long.
Then she lifts her eyes, and this time there’s something colder there … deeper than the fear of a manipulative king.
“Rhune,” she says slowly, “Sorryn will be the least of our concerns if Vayrith is truly stirring.”
I walk toward her, constructing another dome around us to speak freely.
She continues, voice low but firm. “We know blood magic is only given by the Dark God. How could Vayrith stir already if Elysia has no magic yet? Has his reach already extended to her somehow?”
I look down at my hands swirling with magic I swore never to wield in pride. Yet right now, all I want is to use it to shield her from every damned god and king who sees her as a means to their end.
“I don’t have those answers,” I say, “but we need to warn Zayvin.”
She nods once. “You’ll need to leave while he’s occupied with Elysia. You know he watches your steps in this court. No one else can come and go as you do. The unknown variable in his world.”
I don’t like the thought of leaving her in this court without me for a moment, but she’s right.
I turn away from the table and reach into the inner lining of my robes. My fingers close around the waystone, warm and pulsing, ready to take me wherever I desire within our world.
Turning my thoughts toward the shadow that follows her down the corridor, I whisper to them, “Stay with her. Watch her. Never let him see you.”
The shadows respond, curling closer to her.
Please, I think, lifting my eyes to the ceiling as though our goddess might hear me. Let her be safe.
Then I close my fingers around the waystone and vanish. The shadows stretch around me as the magic in the waystone pulses once, then anchors.
When I step out, the air is colder here.
The sharp scent of rain lingers in the breeze, and for a moment, I simply stand at the edge of the courtyard.
The Nithrin Court is nothing like the Dromin.
Every edge is sharp. Every structure, precise. It doesn’t gleam the way the Dromin Court does; instead it absorbs light and holds it.
It feels … honest. There’s no beautiful facade. It simply is.
I make my way to the throne room without announcement and the guards don’t stop me. They see the shadows trailing behind my boots and step aside. I may not be their king, but I wield the same power as theirs.
When the doors open, Zayvin is seated at the base of the raised dais—not on the throne but beside it. A circle of advisors stands nearby, speaking in hushed tones.
He sees me before I can call his name.
Zayvin stands immediately, the sharp silver detailing on his robes catching the low light. His dark brow furrows, and I catch the flicker of something deeper in his eyes. Concern.
“Rhune?” His voice is low, but urgent. “What’s happened?”
I give him a tight nod. “We can’t speak here.”
He glances once at his advisors and gives a curt nod. “Clear the room.”
The room empties without protest, leaving only the echo of boots walking outside and the weight of what I brought with me.
When the doors shut, Zayvin crosses the floor. “What is it?”
I hesitate.
I trust him. He’s my brother. He’s everything Sorryn pretends to be—measured, restrained, intelligent enough to fear the things he doesn’t yet understand.
Still, I don’t say her name.
“Vayrith stirred for someone within the Dromin Court,” I say instead. “The Calling Flame reacted. Serenath confirmed it.”
Zayvin stills, like the breath’s been knocked from him. When he finally speaks, it’s a whisper. “That’s not possible.”
He exhales slowly and runs a hand through his dark hair, tension bleeding into his features.
“If that creature rises again …” His eyes flick to the wall behind me, distant and haunted. “Do you think he could break the seal over the Sacrum Mountains? It’s the only power we know of that can eat through magic.”
I nod. “That’s why I came.”
He falls quiet for a moment, but when he looks at me again, his gaze is focused.
“Elysia needs to see Sorryn for what he is. For who he is. We both know what happens if she binds herself to him blind. The Nithrin Court must receive the Goddess’s blessing if we have an impending war. We are too weak from the last two queens not choosing us.”
“She’s starting to see,” I say quietly. “She’s asking the right questions. Digging for answers.”
Zayvin nods once, and after a long pause, his voice softens.
“I know this is difficult for you.”
My throat tightens, but I don’t respond.
He watched as I fractured, seeing her brave the selection.
He knows so little of exactly what she means to me.
In truth, I still don’t even know what she means to me.
The curiosity that sparked the first time I visited her dreams has grown and morphed into an infatuation.
A relentless need to discover every facet of her.
He steps closer, his expression gentler now.
“If she chooses me … I will treat her with care. You have my word.”
It’s the right thing to say, yet it still feels like the worst thing I could hear.
Because everything in me recoils at the thought of her choosing anyone else. Even him. Even Zayvin. It doesn’t feel right.
Not in my body. Not in my blood. Not in my damned soul.
Yet I say nothing, because it doesn’t matter.
Zayvin studies me for a moment longer, then asks casually, “How’s Maerel?”
I blink and jerk back, the shift in conversation so sudden it catches me off guard.
“She’s the same,” I answer carefully. “Guarded. Watching.”
He nods but his eyes flicker, like he’s trying not to ask something more.
I don’t press, though. Some things can stay unspoken … for now. I, too, have my own secrets.
“I need to get back to Elysia,” I say. “She created a diversion to get Sorryn off of our trail, but I must continue to watch over her.”
He nods again, stepping aside as I pull the waystone back to my hand. “Don’t hesitate to visit me again if you hear more, and be careful, brother.”
I nod just before vanishing from sight, the weight of all we didn’t say following me through the shadows.