All the warriors moved to his side, as if backing him. No doubt, to make sure she didn’t somehow break free, fall back into peril, and be stuck with her again.
Lykon put his arm around her. She shut her eyes and clutched his shirt as he dematerialized them, her mind refusing to grant her reprieve, remembering the cold, aloof expression Aerén donned in front of these strangers. A deep hurt burrowed within her chest.
Did she honestly think she mattered a little more because he seductively tormented her?
She wasn’t this important Chosen and didn’t matter in the long run.
CHAPTER12
Aerén turned awayfrom the empty spot where Lykon and Leya had been moments ago. The image of her in his old friend’s arms, and with her holding onto him, wasn’t a sight he wanted imprinted on his mind.
Vae. How could one tiny human cause this much chaos?
No one pushed him the way she did. So, she hated him. It didn’t matter as long as she was safe. While his warriors could shield themselves if his powers slipped, she couldn’t.
But the savage desire consuming him—causing his power to hammer at his mind shield—was his penance. He shouldn’t have touched her, no matter her jibes.
“Let’s go.” He dematerialized and shot toward the south side of Na’Tol, past the haunted forest to the marshlands. Moments later, he reformed on the edges of the reeking wetlands, as did Thiorr and five other enforcers. They spread out, searching the place.
Thiorr remained.
“How are you here?” he asked the male. “Didn’t I last see you on Earth?”
“What can I say?” Thiorr kept his attention on the dead-still marshes. “I was curious about this female who rattled my unflappable prince.”
He snorted.
“And having seen her, now I understand.”
Aerén cut him a side-look, a brow arching, but Thiorr remained as unperturbed as ever. “She isn’t the usual, fawning type, is she?”
Aerén frowned, casting his attention back to the looming navy-hued mountains. “No. She isn’t easy.”
“Indeed. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen anyone pull true emotions from you. Anyways, I did track you to her place of business in the Village. But neither you nor your female was around.”
Aerén didn’t bother correcting Thiorr, who liked being a pain in his ass.
“Then I smelled sulfur and rebels, saw the destruction and open gateway. So, I texted High Lord Reynner about what I suspected, cleared up the mess, crossed through, and shut the portal.”
Good. Reynner would take care of her family, and they wouldn’t report her missing to the authorities.
“What did the test reveal? Is she a Chosen?”
Hell, all of Empyrea, especially Élendium, waited with bated breath, hoping the next Chosen would come to their kingdom. Now, this utter failure with Leya. How could he have been so wrong?
“I don’t know…” He frowned at the swampy marsh and yellowed, wilting grass. “All the signs are there, but the scroll test is inconclusive. We need a Chosen on Élendium, Thiorr, before more disaster strikes and another of our isles is lost.”
“No one could have foreseen that tragedy,” the warrior murmured. “Only the Fates know why they allocated us this hand.”
Aerén’s mouth flattened. Everything and everyone he cared for had been taken away from him by death or in some other way. He didn’t believe in the fucking Fates any longer.
“Let’s go find them.”And the bastard who hurt Leya.
A coldness settling within him, he flashed to the foothills of the Angempion Mountains.
“Yo, Ren.” Drav’n, another of his childhood friends and his enforcer, appeared at his side. “You’ve got to see this.”
Aerén dematerialized, following him. He slipped through a crevice in the mountain. As he reformed in the dark cave, his skin pulled tight over every inch of him as if it would split apart.
