Releasing a shuddering breath once the words she’d wanted to say were out there, Lessia bent down to get her tunic, and as soon as she did, the person she loved most in the world—her everything—was at her side, helping her into it.
While he didn’t speak any words… she could tell she’d done the right thing.
“You’re the one who rose from death,” a cracked voice whispered, and Lessia whipped her head to the Oakgards’ Fae again, watching an older male with gray streaks at his temples join the one with the black eye by the bars. “I heard one of you had come back… but I didn’t believe it.”
Lessia just stared at him. She’d never seen a Fae look old before.
Experienced, yes. But old? Never.
Merrick seemed to think the same thing, because he pulled her against his chest, his heart thumping so hard she knew he was preparing to get her out of there if needed.
“What do you know? And…” Pellie stepped forward, her nostrils flaring. “You’re half-witch.”
Soria stepped forward as well, her eyes sharp as they went between her sister and the old man.
“I am, yes.” The man grinned at the sisters. “And like I can see you’re realizing… that’s why I appear to be an old man at merely forty. Can’t be both Fae and witch without balance. Early death is my fate.”
“What’s the one who rose from death?” Merrick demanded, ignoring how both Pellie and Soria pressed forward, Kerym following them like a shadow.
“Oh, I don’t know much. The guardians aren’t too excited to share with those who decide not to practice, but there is a widely known prophecy that for the one who clings to life, there must be one who rises from death.” The man’s eyes roved over Lessia, and she almost gave in to the urge to shrink into herself, feeling much more vulnerable under his stare than she had been when she was half naked before.
With a hiss, Merrick spun to Loche, who bowed his head.
“Old man, you’re going on a little trip,” the regent said, waving for Raine and Merrick to get him out of the cellars.
“For the rest of you”—Loche shared a look with Iviry before continuing—“I think Lessia said it all. We’ll give you the night to decide what you’d like to do: rot in these cellars or join us in a new world.”
With that, Loche spun on his heel, Iviry following asif they’d practiced their exit for centuries. While Lessia cast the old man a final look, she couldn’t help the hope that warmed her chest as her friends placed hands on shoulders and backs, talking quietly to each other the entire way back to the cabin, no one wanting to spend the night alone.
Chapter 12
Frelina
Frelina’s hand dropped to her side when the water swallowed the ship carrying Elessia, Merrick, and the others, including Ydren, who’d refused to leave Elessia’s side, even though Auphore and the rest had stayed at her sister’s command.
Trying to distract herself from the goodbye, Frelina had spoken to the water wielder to understand how he was able to get them to Vastala in mere hours instead of the weeks it would usually take. Apparently he was able to influence the currents, opening up an underwater tunnel that almost flew them forward by the mighty force of the Eiatis Sea.
Frelina tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear as she turned her face to the sun, leaning her lower back against the railing of the ship she was meant to sail on to the border of Ellow and Vastala.
She’d hoped she could sail with Iviry, not because she’d grown particularly close to her, although she’dcome to admire the stoic Fae leader—especially how she handled the tension everyone was aware of but no one spoke about, between her, Elessia, and Loche—but because she knew the only other option was Raine, and…
She didn’t know what to make of him anymore.
She’d shown him everything she wanted after that battle—when she thought she might die—and while she’d told herself she didn’t expect anything back… if she stopped lying, she did want it. Like she wanted to experience all she could in life, she wanted love, the kind that Elessia and Merrick had, the kind that was building between Kerym and Pellie, the kind Amalise resisted, although Frelina doubted she would be able to much longer, since Zaddock was definitely wearing her down. She even wanted the kind she suspected might spark between Loche and Iviry, regardless of how much they tried to pretend it wouldn’t.
If she continued to spend time with Raine, Frelina wasn’t sure she’d be able to ever let him go. Somehow the stupid drunk had burrowed himself into her heart with his dumb jokes, his vulnerability and pain, and yes, those hands that still left her breathless at night when loneliness sneaked into her room.
She loved him, but if she let him go now, she could keep him as a friend. Frelina could heal the parts of her that still cracked and ached, and find someone who would love her back in the way she wanted.
It didn’t matter that she didn’t have a mate. After seeing Kerym gravitate toward Pellie, the way he had just opened his heart again to her, watching her as if she were the only light in his world, she knew that kind of love wasn’t just restricted to soul bonds.
Chosen love could be just as powerful.
Perhaps even more.
Frelina closed her eyes when the sun’s rays drifted across her skin, then pulled up her sleeves when a warm breeze enveloped her. The damned storm that had reigned had finally broken at dawn, but a chill still had goose bumps rise on the exposed skin as she thought of Lessia’s body—the scars and brands Frelina had heard of but not seen until last night.
Her sister also needed to heal, and while Frelina’s heart hurt with every beat at not seeing Elessia by her side, she was glad her sister was getting away for a bit, even if it was to figure out how to yet again stay alive.
