“I could dispatch a letter to Ariesian and inform him of our findings so far.” Kjeld gestured around the glowing warmth of the sitting room, to the Druids who most graciously welcomed them into their sacred haven. “And until we hear back from him, we shall bide our time here, in Wenfyre.”
Caelian hesitated, tangling the ribbons of her dress into knots around her fingers. “I suppose…”
“Listen to your dragon rider.” Morwyn offered them another genuine smile, so the faint lines around her eyes crinkled. “There is much to learn. The Myrkwild is full of knowledge, so long as one chooses to listen.”
“Very well.” A despondent sigh slipped from between Caelian’s lips. “We shall stay, but only if Ariesian confirms all is well in Aeramere.” She dropped into a curtsy. “If you’d excuse me, I think I might like to go for a walk and clear my mind.”
Without another word, Caelian bolted from the sitting room. Kjeld made to follow her, but Morwyn stepped directly into his path. She stopped him with one hand, her palm flattening against his heart.
Morwyn nodded toward the door in silent command, and both Sylvan and Lira exited the room without hesitation. Herhand fell away from his chest and she peered up at him, years of wisdom brewing in the depths of her brown eyes.
“Tell me what troubles you.”
Kjeld clamped his mouth shut, knowing there was no way to avoid the truth.
“You needn’t be afraid to speak your mind here, Kjeld.” Morwyn raised both her arms, and a warm breeze flowed through the room, ruffling his hair and woven braids like a mother’s gentle caress. “The Eldergrove’s secrets are as deep as its roots and as long-standing as its branches. Sometimes the truth is difficult to hear, and the magic of the Eldergrove helps to ease some of that pain.”
Kjeld scrubbed a hand over his face. He could be careful, mindful about how much he shared. Or he could unleash it all and alleviate the burden of guilt and indecision that blurred his consciousness.
He chose to start slowly. Carefully. “I was not always fae.”
“No.” Morwyn looked him over, one brow arching. “I imagine you weren’t.”
“Caelian saved my life. She wished for me to live, and so I lived. She wished for me to be fae, and…” He stretched out his arms wide. “I became fae.”
“And do you not enjoy living and being fae?” Morwyn asked, a glimmer of afternoon sunlight splintering in through the stained glass window, sending tiny rainbows dancing throughout the room.
“I do. More than I thought.” Kjeld swallowed, his throat working around the lump of emotion lodged there. “I’m grateful for her. But…”
“But?” she prompted.
“I fear she manipulated me. You see, I was immensely attracted to her when I was mortal, and it’s my belief my feelingsare not honest. Because what was once a mild infatuation has morphed into total obsession.”
Kjeld blew out a breath, his shoulders dropping. He’d finally said what had weighed so heavily on his mind, he’d finally shared with someone the bitter anguish raging inside of him. And he felt lighter. Better. Stronger. More empowered, even. The heaviness that had been draped around him for months fell away, releasing him. He was no longer a prisoner of his mind and heart.
It was like a discovery, a taste of freedom.
“I see.” Morwyn tilted her head to one side, nodding slowly. “And how did she do that?”
“When she wished for me to fall in love with her.”
“Oh, my boy, how you have been fooled.” Laughter erupted from Morwyn, full and loud. She shook her head, her smile broad and her eyes dancing with mirth. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she sighed, then gave him a hearty pat. “Wishes or not, magic holds no power over the heart.”
Kjeld blanked, staring at the ancient Druid who mocked his torment with a charming smile. He blinked. “I don’t understand.”
Morwyn thumped him lightly on his chest with the back of her hand. “It means your head has been playing games with your heart. Whatever you feel in your soul for that darling child of the stars is more true than any whisper spoken in these woods. No magic in the world can control the desires of the heart. Does your blood sing for her?”
“Yes,” he rasped, raw honesty escaping him before he could hold it back.
“Then go find your harmony. Your balance. Your peace.”
With that, Morwyn glided out of the sitting room as though she was walking on clouds, and Kjeld was left standing therealone, struggling to make sense of everything she’d just said to him.
He closed his eyes, searching the darkest parts of his soul for that lingering truth, the one he’d been determined to ignore for so long. It was still there, a dwindling flame, like a candle burning out into a puddle of melted wax. But it could be saved. Salvaged. Protected and cherished.
“I love Caelian.” Kjeld opened his eyes and spoke his truth. “I love her.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
