Still awake?She stared at the two words, then erased them.Too needy.Too teenage.She tried again.
Don’t forget to sleep.
She hit send before she could think herself out of it.The screen stayed stubbornly quiet.No dots.No reply.
“Fine,” she said, setting the phone down like it might bite.“Be king.I’ll be queen.”
She slid under the covers and turned onto her side to face the door.It was ridiculous, but she slept better like that—watching for the moment he’d finally give up being brave alone and come to bed.She promised herself she wouldn’t cry.She mostly kept it.
When sleep finally came, it came in pieces, images of trees and flickering light, the far-off echo of a song sung off-key.Somewhere beyond the walls, the forest turned in its sleep.Somewhere deeper, older, something answered the book’s call.
Cassie breathed through the ache and let the dark take her, one hand resting over the tiny miracle that would not be a secret for long.
She was not a girl anymore.She was a queen.
And tomorrow, she would act like one.
CHAPTER4
“I think you’re fearless.And I love you for it.But fear keeps us alive.”~ Cush
Elora sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, glaring at the bedspread as if it had betrayed her.Under her skin, it felt too tight, even strange, as if the anger inside was pulling it snuggly over her bones.The darkness that she knew lived inside of her churned in her gut, though it wasn’t fully black, more like the grey of a shadow.She flexed her fingers and pulled her shoulders back, attempting to relax.It didn’t work.
She blew a frustrated breath.The room caught the moonlight as it tangled in the sheer drapes, the balcony door open to the wild, pine-laced air.The palace’s magic usually thrummed in the walls, a gentle background hum she hardly noticed, but tonight it pressed in close, agitated.Restless, just like her.
She rubbed her palm, muttering, “Get it together, Elora.Calm, centered—remember?”
Behind her, leather whispered against metal, followed by the soft thump of a sword set aside.She didn’t have to look to know it was Cush, methodical and silent, always putting things in their place.She’d watched him a hundred times, peeling off armor, organizing weapons, every move precise.It should’ve soothed her, but all it did was set her more on edge.
“You’re still angry,” he said finally, his voice like velvet dragged over stone, soft, but you’d cut yourself if you weren’t careful.
She didn’t bother turning around.“I’m not angry.I’m irritated.There’s a difference.”
“And that difference would be?”he asked.
She caught his reflection in the mirror, bare-chested, hair loose and shining like a weapon, eyes fixed on her with that infuriating, unwavering calm.Her pulse jumped, as it always did.“The former involves thoughts of murder, the latter, only maiming,” she shot back, dry as dust.
His eyes narrowed, mouth twitching in a way that hinted at a fight or a kiss.“You could have been hurt today.”
Elora rolled her eyes, letting her head drop back against the pillow.“I was sparring, Cush.That’s the whole point.”
“With Leeland.”He lifted his arm, his hand wrapping around the back of his neck, squeezing tight.“He’s impulsive and uncontrolled at times in his fighting.”
“He’s competitive,” she argued, “and you’re smothering.”
“There’s a difference between competitive and dangerous,” he said, dropping his hand and crossing his arms in that way that made his biceps flex and her resolve slip.“He could have?—”
“Oh, for stars’ sake, he wasn’t trying to take my head off.If he had, he would’ve done it.You’re giving me too much credit.”
“That would be impossible,” Cush said, so simply, like it was just a fact of nature.The way he looked at her made her stomach twist.It always did.Like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, and that terrified her more than any sparring match.
The silence between them stretched, thick with everything unsaid.She focused on the runes carved into the beams above, the erratic pulse of the palace’s magic.It made her skin crawl, all those anxious little flickers.
She dropped her voice.“Do you feel that?”
He stilled, listening the way only an elf can, head cocked, eyes narrowed.“The magic is unsettled.Probably the book again.”
She huffed, hugging her knees to her chest.“You make it sound like it’s alive.”
