I tear my eyes away from Fenris, suddenly aware of the intense glare I have been giving him. Shit, talk about sayingfuck youwith my face. I drop my focus to the floor, trying to ground myself and regain control of my emotions.
Slowly, my fists unclench, the tension releasing from my fingers. However, my attention is immediately drawn to an odd sensation brushing against the skin of my palms. My hands shake as I lift my palms. The cloak I'm wearing falls to my elbows and a sharp gasp escapes my lips. Hidden beneath my sleeves, vibrant green vines emerge and wrap themselves delicately around my wrists and fingers. Magic dances along my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I can feel my magic expanding, granting me the ability to summon vines from within myself rather than relying on the earth alone.
“That’s new,” Raiden says, breaking me from my reverie.
Rolling my shoulders, I finally turn to face the others again, finding traces of concern mixed with astonishment etched on their faces.
“It is,” I breathe.
“Can you summon a weapon?” Alivar inquires with a hint of curiosity.
I scowl, locking eyes with him, frustration already bubbling beneath the surface. “What do you mean?”
“Like Maxon and I,” he clarifies evenly. “Our swords are elemental magic, a part of us. Part of the dragon clan that chooses us.”
Weapon. I look down at my hands, the vines now nowhere to be seen. I called them, but not consciously. It wasn’t something I controlled.
“I don’t know,” I reply, my voice softer now.
Uncertainty gnaws at me, memories flickering in my mind—my battle with Yumekui. I summoned those warriors, but they weren’t a singular weapon. They were more like extensions of my will, not something I wielded in my hands.
“Too bad everyone who would know is dead.”
The words slice through the air like a dagger. My heart stalls, and I snap my attention to Fenris, who leans casually against the wall, his face betraying no emotion. The room goes still, a heavy silence falling over us as I blink in disbelief.
The cruelty of his remark echoes in the quiet, stinging worse than any blade. My fingers dig into my palm, but the anger is drowned out by a deeper ache—a reminder of all that I’ve lost, of all the knowledge that’s been wiped from existence. I open my mouth, ready to bite back, but before any of us can speak, a voice rumbles from the doorway, low and commanding.
“Not everyone.”
The air in the room shifts, the tension crackling like a live wire as every head turns toward the door. Standing there, framed by the dim light, is a figure I wasn’t expecting.
The vines cast such a spell on us that we failed to notice the door to the war room opening. Nymeria and Anika, my ever-alert companions, even failed to notify us of the presence of anyone else.
“Valric,” I acknowledge, staring at my childhood paladin.
The silver-haired fae stands in the doorway, a heavy frown on his face as he stares at Fenris. When his attention shifts to me, hisviolet eyes soften, and a ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Seeing the scar that runs down his cheek hurts more than I can explain. I know it came from the night my parents died.
“Princess Vera,” he replies, with a slight incline of his head.
Alivar pushes himself away from the table, stretching slightly. “That’s my cue to leave,” he remarks with a casual grin. “I’ll be back in the morning. Tomorrow will be a long day. I suggest rest.”
I feel a pang of guilt. I know I’ve been a bit of a brat toward him, despite his efforts to help us. As he turns to leave, I open my mouth, intending to finally thank him. But before I can speak, Raiden discreetly elbows me, a silent reminder. He knows exactly what I was going to say, but he also understands the importance of maintaining my composure. I’m no longer just a human; I’m a queen, and I need to act like one.
Taking a deep breath, I straighten my posture and address Alivar with a measured tone. “I appreciate all your assistance over the last few days,” I say, trying to convey the sincerity behind my words.
Alivar’s eyes twinkle with mirth, a playful smile spreading across his face. “Anytime, Princess.” There’s a lightness in his demeanor that suggests he doesn’t take my earlier behavior to heart, but I still feel a twinge of embarrassment.
Alivar summons a portal, the shimmering air warping and swirling in front of him. With a final wink in my direction, he steps through, vanishing into the glowing vortex. The portal closes behind him with a soft whoosh, leaving only the faintest ripple in the air where he stood moments before.
“Right, all of you out. I need to speak to Everly and Valric,” Raiden’s voice rumbles through the room.
His commanding presence leaves no room for hesitation; everyone seems to sense the urgency in his demeanor. I catch a glimpse of his face as he turns toward Fenris, his usual calm and collected expression replaced by something harsher, something edged. His brow is furrowed, and his jaw tightens as he leans in, exchanging hushed words with Fenris.
I can’t hear exactly what Raiden is saying, but the low growl of his voice tells me enough. Fenris doesn’t flinch under Raiden’s intense scrutiny, but I can see the subtle shift in his posture, the hardening of his stance. His eyes narrow, a flicker of defiance crossing his face, but he stays silent, listening to whatever Raiden has to say.
Deep down, I know it’s about me.
Fenris may not know me yet, and maybe he doesn’t trust me. I can see it in the way he looks at me—quizzical, skeptical, as though he’s measuring me against some unseen standard and finding me lacking.
