I stood, then rolled up my sleeves.
“Now,” I said evenly. “Tell me what you know.”
50
CARWYNN
How strange. . .
The onyx box was smooth under the pads of my fingers. Like cold, crisp glacial water luring me in to take a sip.
I traced its edges. The strange engravings suddenly sparked to life. Radiant gold light burst, spewing out in a sparkling blaze, catching me off guard. I snapped my eyes shut, shielding them with a hand.
“Finally,”a low, compelling voice whispered. That one word enveloped me like two strong arms, encircling around, locking me in place.
An immense feeling awakened deep inside me, almost hypnotic. As if my senses had fused to the box’s power, engulfing me like a hungry flame. But I was standing too close . . . about to get burned.
A sudden heat rushed through my body, my veins, my very soul.
“Finally,”I answered, spirit possessed, echoing its words.
The black box slipped through my hands and I scrambled, desperately trying to catch it.
Smash!
I shot upright in my bed, heart jackhammering like a fire alarm in the night.
“What the—” I clutched my damp chest, unsure if I was having a minor heart attack.
The box, that voice, the heat—it was all gone in an instant. The ache still flared in the pit of my soul, but felt more like a warning . . . or worse, a promise . . .
A nightmare. It was just a nightmare.
Breena’s petite hand squeezed my ankle. A warm, steadying anchor to reality.
“Sorry! Didn’t mean to give ya a fright!” she said, too chipper to actually be sorry. “You nodded off. Figured I’d wake ya so you’d have time to wipe the drool off before Finley arrives.”
“Shit,” I groaned, rubbing palms against my eyes. “Thanks, I didn’t mean to pass out.”
Between training, packing for Fecunditas, and digging through Lochlainn’s archives for clues—I’d absolutely worn myself ragged. I’d spent half the night lost to book pages and ghosts only to wind up empty handed again. The nightmare was probably a side effect of my sleep deprivation.
“What time is it?” I stood, glancing out the bedroom window.
Radiant light spilled through the moss-rounded frame. The sun was sinking low. It looked like a golden coin being tossed into a well, striking the hem of Breena’s dress and scattering into prismatic strokes against the floor. She looked stunning all dolled up for the ball.
Breena glided to my dresser and picked up my gold choker. Next to it, a matching pair of gold pearl earrings sparkled. Her eyes briefly scanned them. She bit her lip hiding a smile.
“I see we’re beginning to have a favorite,” she said, raising a devious eyebrow. “And don’t worry, ya have an hour.”
I let out a breath.Thank the fucking Lord . . .
Ignoring her insinuation, I gave her a blank look. For a moment, I felt like a little girl meeting a fairy for the first time. Breena wasn’t wearing a skimpy pixie dress tonight. No, she looked like goddamn regal princess.The Si Princess,if there were such a thing. A fitted, white gemstone dress hugged her slender frame. The material flowed like streaming water, cascading down to pool at her feet where small green gemstones dotted from the bottom up, as if splashed upwards from puddle-jumping.
“Two things.” I held up my fingers. “First, don’t give me that look. I see those excited little gears in your head grinding overtime. Again, there’snothingbetween me and Lochlainn. He asked me to wear it tonight—something about sentimentality and representing Luckland.” I waved a hand like a limp flag.
“Mmhmm,” Breena gave me pointed look, holding back a laugh as she passed me the choker.
Her eyes dipped to the scar on my throat for the briefest of moments. With anyone else I’d turtle away, immediately getting a rush of self-consciousness . . . but not with my her or Aine. Breena always looked, not with pity, but with some twisted satisfaction—like the mark was just an IOU note for when I’d payback the Skell King for what he did to me. With Aine, it was an IOU remindingherto collect blood.
