“In the stables,” Kian answers, his tone careful but firm.
My frown deepens. “Why?”
“You’re taking the carriage, Princess.” Tristan gestures toward the second one in the procession.
I bristle at the implication, my pulse quickening, and my voice a little sharper than intended. “I don’t want to take the carriage.”
Being confined in that small space, away from the open air, it already makes me feel trapped. Feelings of claustrophobia rise to the surface and I do my best to keep my breathing even.
Kian sighs, stepping closer. “Trust me, it’s going to be a long day of riding, followed by a night of rituals, and then we’ll be traveling back at dawn. You’ll be dead on your feet before we even finish.”
I cross my arms, still not convinced. “I can handle it.”
“Not in that dress,” Kian murmurs, trying to disguise his words with a cough.
Tristan shakes his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I know you can. But Lutin and Senka will be with you and Zaria in thecarriage, and it’s not just about you being tired. It’s about safety. We need to make sure you’re well-rested and protected.”
My attention flickers over to Lutin and Senka, who remain silent, their stoic expressions betraying nothing.
“What about Raiden?” I counter, searching for some argument that might let me ride with the others.
“He’s leading the convoy with Fenris.” Kian’s tone leaves little room for negotiation. “And I’ll be riding alongside your carriage with Tristan. You’ll be safe, I promise.”
“It’s not that,” I whisper, and if I was honest with myself, it isn’t just my fear of small spaces. Unease twists my stomach at the thought of leaving Storm here.
If I can’t have Maxon with me . . . he is part of Maxon.
I start pacing, trying to get my feelings under control. My chest grows warm with the telltale signs of my magic burning brighter by the second.
Maxon.
My mate bond sits silent, making my throat tighten with the urge to scream—to rage at the heavens for the sheer injustice of it all.
A warmth at my fingertips begins to spread, and I glance down, startled to see delicate flowers sprouting from the ground where I stand. Petals of every color push up from between the stones, their beauty mocking the storm brewing inside me.
Shit, Everly, pull it together.
“Princess?” Kian’s voice cuts through the maelstrom, but I barely hear him.
A low growl escapes my throat before I can stop it, a warning more primal than I expected. Once again, my magic flares up,reacting to my emotions as I struggle to maintain control. I was perfectly fine just a moment ago.
I can sense the fae around me, their shock and uncertainty evident in the way they subtly shift away. Suddenly, Kian’s face fills my vision, his gentle touch sending a comforting warmth coursing through my body as his hands gently settle on my shoulders.
“You’re okay, Everly.”
But I’m not okay.
Magic swirls within me, a tempest ready to break free. The air crackles with energy, my hair standing on end. Kian’s touch anchors me, but I can sense his concern, his fear. The ground trembles beneath us, making my heart pound harder against my chest.
“I can’t leave Storm here.” My voice trembles, and with it, the ground beneath us shifts, as a wave of magic surges outward, rolling over the ground like a storm cloud.
“What was that?” Tristan asks.
I blink, feeling the magic withdraw and curl back into the recess of my chest as if it just threw a temper tantrum. Two loud howls pierce the sky, followed by the unmistakable sound of hooves pounding the earth in the distance like thunder.
We all turn, eyes wide as the sound grows closer.
Nymeria and Anika round the gardens into the courtyard, followed by Storm.
