“What the hell happened?” Ser Aeron bellowed as he stormed into Auraelia’s suite, his eyes wide as they landed on his queen’s limp body.
“I’ve never seen so much…” Xander’s face was white as he stared down at his sister, seemingly unaware of the mass of muscle and anger that was Emerald’s Army Commander stalking toward him.
When Xander still didn’t answer, Ser Aeron pinned Daemon with a hard stare as he knelt next to the queen. “You! Explain.Now!” Effervescent white light radiated from his palms, washing over Auraelia and seeping into her body.
“She expelled too much magic at once. She drained herself.”
“You let herdrainherself?” Ser Aeron’s anger was palpable, his hands shaking as he continued to move them over her body.
Chills spider walked down Daemon’s spine as the memory of watching Auraelia push herself beyond her limits resurfaced. Of watching the color drain from her face. The way her magic spilled from her in rough waves, dragging her further into her well of power until she couldn’t reach the surface. He’d felt her waning. Felt it as she neared the end of her rope, diving headfirst into a burnout.
“Daemon saved her.” Piper’s voice was small and shaky, her eyes welling with tears as she clung to her friend’s hand. “If he hadn’t been there… hadn’t wrapped her in his shadows…I…I don’t know that there would be anything for you to heal.”
“Fuck.” The commander shook his head in disbelief. “Xander,” he snapped, the sharp tone finally pulling the prince from his shock. “Go tell Liza we need fruit, chocolate, and nuts, but don’t tell her why. Ask for some of those silly little pastries that Auraelia likes, too.” Xander stared at the man for a moment, the war between following orders and staying with his sister swimming across his eyes. “Now!” Ser Aeron demanded.
As Xander fled the room, Ser Aeron took a deep breath before asking, “What of the blood? That didn’t come from draining her magic.”
Daemon knelt by Auraelia’s head at the arm of the settee, stroking the hair from her brow. “She and I were attacked in the Amber Woods. The Court of Pearl sent them.”
“They what?”
“Calm down, Commander. You trained your queen well. She took down three of the men and saved my neck in the process. She’s stronger than she thinks.”
Ser Aeron shook his head, his shoulders sagging as he expelled a heavy sigh and returned his focus to healing his queen.
Silence blanketed the room as the commander worked. Piper’s eyes slid closed, her lips moving in what sounded like awhispered prayer as Daemon continued to idly stroke Auraelia’s hair.
Come back to me, my star. Your people need you…Ineed you.
Hours passed, and still, Auraelia hadn’t woken. Her body was unnervingly still next to Daemon’s as he watched like a sentinel.
He’d moved her to the bedchamber after Ser Aeron finished healing her body. Gently stripping her of the soiled garments, he wiped away the traces of blood and grime from her skin before redressing her in one of her silk nightdresses. The slices on her throat and shoulder were now nothing but faint pink lines, and the bruises that once colored her skin were nothing but a memory. But healing her mind and replenishing the stores of her magic was beyond even Ser Aeron’s capability.
Piper brought dinner to Auraelia’s chambers, the hope in her eyes fading when she saw her friend still unconscious and only staying long enough to watch over Auraelia while Daemon showered and ate.
Her presence was replaced by Ser Aeron, then Xander after him, and Daemon watched the pattern repeat, masks of hope slipping into sorrow as their queen’s status remained unchanged.
Anxiety prickled in Daemon’s chest. His shadows were restless in his veins, longing to reconnect with the fire that once burned brighter than the sun inside Auraelia, but there was no change. As he gazed down at her motionless body, at the delicate lines of her face and the way her lashes fanned out against her cheeks, he couldn’t help but notice how fragile she looked. The only thing that brought him hope was that he’d witnessed her strength more times than he could count and in more ways thanjust physical. His star was a feat to behold, an intricate tapestry of power and resilience that would make lesser beings buckle under the weight of what she’d endured.
Daemon watched each pull of breath into her lungs until exhaustion crept in like the tide, dragging him under until he could no longer force his eyes open.
Though sleep claimed his body, his mind swirled back through every encounter he’d had with the woman who’d stolen his heart without even meaning to. The memory of seeing her across the ballroom. The way his shadows called to her, like a wayward ship finally finding safe harbor. Of the fire in her eyes whenever they met his. That undeniable draw to each other, pulling them together regardless of how either of them fought it. Their souls had been braided together, a thread pulled so taut over the centuries that it seemed that not even death could break it. But that thread had grown limp as Auraelia burned through her power. He’d felt it weaken and begin to fray at the ends, their connection growing weaker with every passing second.
It wasn’t until Daemon wrapped her in shadows that it began to tighten again, resolidifying the weakening tether as she collapsed in his arms.
Those shadows now moved frantically in his veins, thrashing against the hold he kept on them and pulling him from his subconscious. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he looked around the room. The moon had nearly reached its peak, its light showering the room in a silvery glow. His heart jolted in his chest as his gaze shifted back to Auraelia. The rose coloring was returning to her sun-kissed skin, her heart a strong, steady thrum in her chest. But then hefeltit, the slow trickle of power filling the once near-empty chamber deep within her soul, and it was as if his lungs were finally capable of fully expanding once more.
Gently, Daemon stroked her cheek, his heart hammering in his chest like a stampede of wild horses as he waited for her eyes to open. To be graced with the storm that swirled in their depths. Seconds turned into minutes that felt like hours, but just as he was about to lean back against the headboard, her lashes fluttered, and he was pinned to the spot by incandescent green eyes.
The air around them stirred, static clinging to it and causing the hair on his arms to stand on end. It was as if her magic refused to be contained, swirling through her irises in streaks of champagne lightning, emanating the power held within.
“Hi,” she whispered, her voice soft and scratchy.
Relief flooded through him, and it took a moment for him to find his voice, to make sure that it sounded calmer than he felt at that moment. “Hi, yourself. How are you feeling?”
Auraelia pinched her eyes closed, wincing as she attempted to sit up before deciding against it and letting her head fall back against the pillows. “I’m tired and sore. I feel like I—”
“Just drained almost every ounce of power you possessed?”
