But this was Jaxon.HerJaxon.
“Just… don’t be surprised if you don’t get a warm welcome,” she said. “You won’t undo decades of mistrust and fear in a night.”
Jaxon’s grin softened. “I don’t expect to undo anything overnight,” he said. “But we have to start somewhere.”
“Ravonfar it is then,” Garrick said. “Just be sure the tests are thorough—and keep things contained. We can’t afford a spectacle.”
Jaxon inclined his head. “Understood, Father.”
“And how is the prisoner?” Garrick picked his utensils back up, slicing neatly into a steaming sausage. “You’ve been spending a greatdeal of time with him, haven’t you, Araya? Have you made any progress?”
Araya straightened, the bite she’d just taken turning bitter on her tongue. “I check on him daily,” she said, careful to keep her voice even. “If his blood is the key to this, he needs to be strong enough to provide what we need.”
A flicker of guilt twisted in her chest, but it was true. That’s what his role was—whatherrole was. The dreams had made things more complicated—but Araya couldn’t let herself lose sight of the truth.
“Just don’t forget that he’s a prisoner—not a guest.” Garrick sighed, taking another bite of his food and chewing slowly, studying her. “I know it can be difficult for a soft heart to see—but Darian is looking for an excuse to cause trouble for you both. Do not give him one.”
“I understand, sir,” Araya said, lowering her eyes. Steam curled off her cooling tea, her fingers tightening around the cup.
“When do you leave for Elvanfal?” Jaxon asked, reaching across the table for the stack of papers by his father’s plate.
“Tonight,” Garrick said, a frown creasing his face. “Things are…not going as well as we’d like.”
“Are these the latest?” Jaxon asked, frowning. “We were gaining ground when I left?—”
“We were.” Garrick sighed, suddenly sounding much closer to his age than he usually did. “But the chaos the fae left behind is more persistent than we anticipated in this section—add that to the terrain, and it’s become a holding game.”
“What if—” Jaxon dragged his chair a foot closer to the head of the table, their voices fading into background noise as the conversation turned to strategy and troop movements—nothing that concerned her.
Araya exhaled slowly, turning her gaze to the tall arched window and the snow-covered skeleton of the garden beyond. What did it look like now, after twenty years of Garrick’s rule? Did it still hold thevibrant greens and bursts of color Loren had shown her last night—or had those, too, been stripped away?
What would Darian Hale say if he found out Loren visited her in her dreams?
She shivered, lacing her fingers together under the table and clasping her hands tightly. She never wanted to find out.
Chapter
Twenty
Araya descended into the darkness,shivering as the damp cold slipped beneath her heavy cloak. Jaxon had gone up to her workshop to retrieve the housings, but she’d come down ahead to check on Loren—eager to begin the imbuing and put this entire chapter behind her. Once the shadows were dispelled, she could be done. Done with this dungeon. Done with the dreams. Done with whatever strange, unwanted connection bound her to the fae prince.
No one would ever have to know.
The thought sent a pang of something sharp and bitter through her chest. She shoved it down, clinging to the same tired logic she’d repeated for weeks. She had done everything she could. If Loren wasn’t willing to help himself… well, that was on him.
And yet, unease clung to her like the living shadows that were conspicuously absent as she made her way through the ruined temple. Her steps slowed, the hair on the back of her neck rising as she passed the desecrated tombs without any sign of them, unable to shake the sense that something was terribly, horribly wrong.
Araya shook her head. “Nerves,” she muttered, tugging her cloak more closely around herself. She hurried past the long procession ofiron doors, more relieved than she wanted to admit when Loren’s cell and the guard outside finally came into view.
“Good morning, Aeron,” she said, dredging up a polite smile for the human man. “How are things this morning?”
“Quiet, miss,” Aeron nodded respectfully. “No trouble reported by the night guard.”
“That’s good.” Araya rummaged in her cloak for her key. “Jaxon will be down shortly, but I wanted to check on Loren before we get started.”
“Of course, miss.” Aeron inserted his own key and then hers, turning them both in the lock together. Araya stepped forward, sketching a quick rune to kindle the aetherlamp, expecting to see Loren sitting on the cot she’d convinced Jaxon he needed. Instead?—
“Gods,” Araya gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth as bile surged up her throat. She staggered back a step, nearly slamming into Aeron as the creeping dread she’d tried to ignore erupted into full-blown panic.
