Then she had no choice. She had to stay… long enough for Rune to break the curse. Then she would run. To the Midlands … or to the one place she knew he couldn’t reach her.
But the thought of waiting within the dark depths of Karag Dûr made her heart sink.
She was never more utterly alone.
Alora stared down at her blurry reflection in the pool. She missed Theia and Caelum. Lady Zinnia. Even her empty cottage and the sterile hallways of Argyle. She missed her father and mother’s voices.
Voices she would never hear again.
Alora returned to the bed chamber. A neatly folded white nightgown waited on the sheets and the table now held a crystal decanter of water and a bowl of fruit.
Such an accommodating castle.
As she dressed, the silky nightgown fell like mist on her clammy skin. She sat on the bed, sinking into the softness she hadn’t felt in years.
“Thank you,” Alora whispered to the walls, or to whatever had heard her plea. “I suppose you couldn’t provide me a friend, too, could you?”
No answer came but the mountain rumbled again.
She laughed at herself, half mad, half incredulous. She was talking to a castle which may or may not be sentient. Unless she truly had lost her mind.
A soft, high-pitched mewl cut off her thoughts.
Alora blinked and looked down.
From beneath the bed, a creature emerged on delicate paws. A kitten, black as void, but with fur that shimmered as if it had been dusted with starlight. Its eyes were twin galaxies, swirling amethyst, yellow, and deep blue, like it had plucked the universe and tucked it into its gaze.
The kitten stretched, gave a delicate little yawn, shaking out a pair of feathered wings. On its head were tiny little horns. It padded over to her with unhurried confidence. She stared at it, her breath catching. It mewed again and bumped its tiny head against her ankles.
“Oh…hello,” Alora said shakily. “My, you’re far too precious to be a demon.”
She carefully picked up the small creature in awe, and it licked her cheek. It was affection without strings. No bargains. No crowns. No blood spilled on cold stone. Tears welled up, hot and blinding. Everything she had held inside poured out andAlora broke. She curled forward, hugging the kitten to her chest as she wept.
CHAPTER 20
Rune
Rune sat in the shadows of his chamber, the fire in the hearth burning low. The castle was quiet with the coming of dawn. Though there were no windows in his room, the impending sunrise ached in his bones. Candlelight danced along the cavern walls, casting sharp shadows that writhed like living things. The air tasted of her, like dew on flower petals, sorrow, and the ghost of something forbidden.
The mountain had changed since Alora’s arrival. It was no longer merely his fortress. It had become something else. Her scent was so intoxicating, he got carried away. How could he forget how delicate her heart was?
Rune lifted a hand and summoned the Veil’s Eye.
Shadows peeled from his body and gathered, smoothing into a flat pane of darkness that hovered before him. Its surface wavered, liquid and unsteady, until it stilled into something like glass.
It shimmered faintly with shifting light, and shapes stirred across its depths, hazy at first, then sharpening. Until at least it cleared, revealing the one he longed to see.
Alora curled up in the center of her bed, knees drawn to her chest. He studied the line of her bare legs, her lacy white nightgown ending a little past the curve of her hips. Her hair, still wet from her bath, was unbound, spilling over her pillow.
Tears glistened on her lashes. She’d been crying.
He had caught snippets of her thoughts earlier. Her worry for Argyle. Her mother and father. Grief had wound itself tightly in her chest, it weighed in Rune’s, too.
Nestled beside Alora’s cheek was a tiny creature small enough to fit in her hands. He watched, both fascinated and unnerved.Where did that come from?
The kitten licked her cheek, and she laughed softly with her eyes closed. Soft and tired. Rune’s chest tightened at the sound, a sound he hadn’t heard in years.
His shadows vibrated around him, longing to touch what he craved. Seven Hells, he could still feel the softness of her skin and hear the flutter of her racing heart when he had her beneath him. That mortal scent of hers was truly maddening. She smelled of briar roses and something else so incrediblymouthwatering.
