As I approach, I look down and see a pattern around her body, etched in the stone beneath our feet.
Like rays of sunlight.
I suck in a breath, and her eyes drag open.
“My Queen!” a voice calls, followed closely by the sound of stirring all around the room. In a second, Arlet is at her side.
“Estela,” she cries, shaking her shoulder.
I move in protectively, not wanting any part of her body jostled. “Arlet,” I say with a demanding tone.
Others circle around us, and I can scarcely bear to reach out and check for a pulse. Her chest doesn’t rise or fall.
She doesn’t move.
My sunlight…
Tears slip down my face. I put my hand on her cheek.
And her eyes snap open.
A collective sigh burns through everyone in the room. I look over to see the elves gazing in wonder.
My mate pushes up and winces.
“Is everyone all right?”
Her eyes find me first, and the glow returns to her body.
It is a primal pleasure to see that it is my face that heals her, that she is moved by my presence.
“Yes,” Vann says to the side. Others agree.
I slide my hand around her, helping her to stand.
Everyone gazes on her in wonder.
“We are safe now,” I say to her. “You saved us.”
She looks around the room, surprised. I grin.
It’s Mrath who steps forward, her face reverent and thoughtful.
“This morning, I promised you one thousand of my finest women.” Her eyes take in my mate, clearly in awe. “Make it two.”
Chapter 38
Hauyne
ESTELA
Two Weeks After The Feast
I’m tired of training. It takes from sun up to sun down.
The terrifying, unsettling thing about feeling the power thrum under my skin is my inexperience. No matter how much I learn, there seems to be more. I could dedicate a lifetime to playing the enchanted lyre of my music and still find new chords. Some of my attempts at melodies prove weak, others too strong.
Tonight, it wakes me up from my nightmares. Screams plague my sleep like almost visions. That is why I rose earlier than any Enduar—even Liana.
