“Still yourself, dear,” Queen Karasi says, her face turned up to Tamra’s from where she remains seated on her throne.
A hushed silence falls around us the instant the Queen speaks, and now I sense all eyes on her.
It’s so quiet that I can hear my sister’s sharply indrawn breath. “But?—”
“Darkness surrounds your sister,” the Queen says, her face turned up to Tamra. “I can sense it. A terrible, destructive evil. It’s best if you stay here, where it’s safe. I’m sure that’s what Asha would want.”
With that, the Queen turns her gaze on me, her smile soft while her sunlit eyes are sharp.
Despite the barely hidden calculation in the Queen’s expression, I don’t object. My sister is safer as far from me as she can be.
“It is what I want,” I rasp, emphasizing my speech for the listening fae. “To touch me is to die.”
Tamra’s chest rises and falls rapidly, but she stops tugging against the Queen, who slowly unfurls her hand.
Tamra’s forehead is pinched, tension growing around her mouth as she lowers herself to her seat. She’s smart. I can practically read her thoughts:How can I heal Asha if I can’t touch her?
I give my head a little shake, unsure if she’ll read it the way I intend:You can’t heal me.Not yet.
Maybe not at all. But I’ll face that problem later.
“Fuck that.” Thaden’s voice is a soft rumble as he rises from his seat. He grasps Tamra’s hand briefly, as if to reassure her, before he hurries toward me.
I’m on the back foot, surprised by his exclamation. “Thaden, what are you…?”
“I can help you.”
All of the fae, including the Queen, are watching him as he skirts around the stretcher and strides toward me. His features tense at the sight of the Vandawolf, but his focus returns swiftly to me.
“No, Thaden.” I backpedal as fast as I can—which, in all fairness, is not fast in my current state—but he keeps on coming.
“Asha, you can’t hurt me.” Thaden reaches out with his scaled hand, his pace only increasing. “The worst was already done to me. Let me make something good of it. Let me help you.”
His dragon scales glisten in the bright lights. I’m reminded that they act as a barrier that can withstand the power in my dark medallions. When Thaden was a captive in the Vandawolf’s prison and I attacked the Vandawolf out of pain and fear, it was Thaden who disarmed me.
Still, my left hand is up, a visual warning not to come near me.
He doesn’t stop, and instead catches my dangerous hand within his scaled palm, enclosing it and covering it.
I shudder to a halt.
The cruel malice within me comes to a blissful cessation that makes me gasp with relief, my eyes filling with tears. I can still feel it, writhing in my arm and hand, but it has nowhere to go. Of course, if I pressed it to his other arm, it would be a different story, but for these precious moments, the burden has lifted.
I don’t miss the way Thaden winces at the contact between us before his expression wipes clean.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, brushing my tear tracks with his other hand. “I’ve got you.”
As his gaze takes me in, he seems to relax even further, as if he has no reason to fear me whatsoever. As if this new version of me doesn’t frighten him. I suppose holding my powered hand without suffering any consequences must give him some level of confidence.
“I’m glad you made it. We were worried when you didn’t find us.” He lowers his voice. “We’ve gained amnesty for now, but we aren’t among friends.”
Aside from my brother and sister, most people aren’t happy to see me. This isn’t new to me. I am hated. My power is hated. My presence is reassuring tonobody.
I press my lips together, trying to stop the pain in my chest as he continues. “But it’s clear you’re in a bad way. Tell me where you’re hurt.”
I shake my head. Every moment we spend talking, the Vandawolf draws closer to death. “I’m not the one who needs help.”
He grimaces. “The damage to your armor says otherwise.”
