“Hold on,” I murmured as I stepped onto the icewalk forming beneath my boots. Batty tucked herself beneath Everly’s chin as though she could shield her from the cold.
The ice carried us away from Frost Grave Pass—away from its graves, its ghosts, and the weight of every sin that had brought me to this moment, and those that would inevitably follow.
I knew better than to believe the Shard Mother was finished with me—and if she dared reach for Everly again, she would learn precisely how much of this world I was willing to burn.
Chapter 37
Everly
Idrifted awake to the unsettling sensation of being watched.
My eyes snapped open to meet familiar golden ones.
The Archmage stood over me, close enough that I could make out the faint shimmer of silver thread along the sleeve of his robe as he held a gleaming crystal above my head.
The facets pulsed softly, catching the light in a series of delicate refractions—one moment cool blue, the next a sharp flash of white—each shift accompanied by a faint hum that vibrated through the air. As my vision sharpened, the crystal brightened once, then dimmed, almost as if acknowledging that I was conscious.
Isren’s expression warmed with quiet satisfaction. With a graceful flick of his wrist, he turned the crystal in his palm, watching the final ripple of light fade from its surface before slipping it into an inner pocket of his robe.
He was composed as always, his gaze observant in a way that made it feel like he saw far more than he chose to speak aloud. He tilted his head, studying me with calm intensity.
“Well,” he murmured, voice smooth and ageless, “you are remarkably resilient.”
It took a beat for his words to settle, and then memories slammed through my mind.
The Korythid behind Draven. Its stinger raised. Draven unaware as the venom dripped like deadly ink.
Ice and shadows and panic… and.. Draven?—
My heart lurched violently in my throat.
I’m here, Morta Mea.
His voice brushed through my mind, and relief broke across my chest so abruptly it nearly hurt.
Then he stepped into view. Tall, and imposing, and mine. My gaze swept over him—over his face, shoulders, hands, the fall of his cloak—searching for blood, or torn fabric, any sign he’d been injured in the fight.
There was nothing.
He looked untouched. Whole and safe, and perfect as always… aside from the exhaustion carved beneath his eyes. Dark circles bruised the skin there, stark against the rest of him.
A fresh knot twisted in my chest.
How long had I been unconscious? How long had I left him alone to worry if I would wake up again and?—
Less than a day, this time.His words wrapped around me like warm silk.
Memories flooded my vision. Kaelen. His warning.
The Unseelie?I asked.
I’ve already spoken to Eryx to make preparations, and I sent word to our allies.
I nodded, swallowing down the guilt that was trying to consume me. Was that better? Would my mother be leading the war in spite of everything, and now I was supposed to be grateful we had allies coming in to slaughter her.
Bile rose in my throat, and every part of my body cried out as I attempted to sit up in what I now realized was Draven’s bed. Orourbed—something that was still nearly impossible to wrap my mind around.
I took a deep breath in, allowing the familiar scents of juniper and snow to fill my lungs and ground me in the moment. Everything else… we could handle it later. Find a way to stop the war, rather than just prepare for it.
