“I understand my position perfectly, Stadiel,” my mate snapped back.
“Good. Now get out of my sight. Take the attendant with you. She’s not to leave Sylaira’s side from here on out. The moment she Sees something, it is reported directly to me.”
Lyriasthe went ashen, but she bowed to the Koron anyway. For her to be in such close proximity to him was as much of a risk as any of us.
“Noted,” Vaeron gritted out. Then, without waiting for a proper dismissal, he tucked me into his side and steered me out of the room.
All around us, Seers drank from the chalice. Sex had resumed, the tang of sweat and sanctimony mingling with burnt herb smoke.
Twin smears of blood shook me to my core. I looked up, starting at the sight of the two lifeless bodies slumped against the wall and Lyriasthe standing nervously beside them.
“Figured you might have to make a run for it, and these two would only get in the way. Again.” She shrugged, then handed a bloody dagger, twin to the one Vaeron still held in his hand, to Maelsar.
“Did you–” I started, but the question died on my tongue.
She shook her head. “I didn’t start it. Only ended it when I realized one was still alive.”
I didn’t know what to make of that. But my body buzzed from the events that had occurred, and I could think of nothing else but fleeing the scene.
Vaeron seemed to sense this. “We’ll walk back together, but don’t stick around,” he told Maelsar and Lyriasthe.
“Best not to disobey the rules so soon,” Maelsar commented with a wry grin. His levity fell flat, unwelcome and unwanted.
Vaeron glared, still vibrating with thin restraint. “Let’s go.”
We slipped into the servants’ corridors, Lyriasthe creeping ahead of us so we’d remain unseen. Yet everyone seemed to know what had happened already, if the whispers that drifted out of sight were any indication.
By the time we stumbled out from behind the painting by Vaeron’s rooms, I didn’t dare breathe. All I could do was offer my new friend a quick embrace as my mate shooed the two away.
My heart thundered, twisted, and roared as he pressed his hand to the door, a flare of radiance unlocking it. The moment we were sealed in, Ibroke.
Each tear carved down my cheek, splattering on the floor like a rainstorm. Sobs wracked my frame as I clutched my stomach and bowed over. Vaeron’s warmth enveloped me as he gathered me in his arms.
His leathers smelled of stormwood. My nails scraped against them, searching for a grip. For a way to bring himcloser. Our bed blurred as he placed me on it, curving around me like a shield amid the storm.
“Shh, you’re okay,” he soothed, strong arms tightening around me.
“I was so scared,” I wept, words shattering in my throat. My fingers dug into his flesh. I needed him closer. Needed him to hold what was left of me together.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured into my hair. I hadn’t realized I’d spoken more aloud.
“Don’t let me go,” I pleaded, unmoored in the memories that whipped through my mind. Tremors shuddered through me, each more violent than the last. “All I could see was Heraphia.”
Flashes of white. Bubbling foam. Absent aquamarine. Pearlescent hair coated in sweat.
I whimpered, knees tucking up to my chest.
“Sylaira,”Vaeron crooned in my mind.
Heraphia’s scream echoed in my ears.
“Little fugitive,”he called out like he was trying to anchor me in the present.
The final moment of Heraphia’s life flashed, clearer than those damn crystal chairs.
Eyes that had spent centuries laughing with me, wide open and crazed. The bruising way she gripped my shoulders, the phantom pain biting into me now.
And the words that wrecked my soul.
