I followed closely, deciding that the idiot might actually be the lesser evil compared to whoever this lord was. Without another word, he dissolved into a clump of dark mist, leaving me alone in the foyer.
I stood frozen, torn between staying put, exploring the ground floor in search of answers, or bolting out the door and trying to find my way home.
Home. For a short while, in my clueless bliss, I had begun to think of Fogoya that way. But I had none.
My home was my dragon.
No.
I tugged on the bond harder this time.
Nothing.
Again, harder.
Nothing.
They had done something to me. The man must’ve used his shadow magic. Never since bonding with Anya had I felt this silence. I should have noticed the second we landed. Her presence had always been the quiet rhythm beneath my thoughts, our communication instinctive.
Now, there was nothing but the noise of my fears.
I tugged again.
Once, twice, harder.
Nothing. Not even an echo.
Silence. Absence. The man I'd trusted had torn my heart from my chest, and the soul tethered to mine was gone. It was enough to make the world tilt beneath my feet.
Self-preservation finally kicked in. I needed a plan. But plans meant nothing when there was nowhere to run. Despair spread through me like wildfire, burning away every hope I carried from Fogoya.
Did I even want to keep fighting?
Deep down, I felt hollow. Everything I cherished now felt dull and unreachable, as if nothing mattered anymore. As if I didn’t matter anymore.
In a world where everyone just wanted to take, I had offered myself freely. Trusted him against my better judgement. It was stupid. My mother was right to curse me.
And maybe I wished she succeeded.
It would hurt less.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Avari
‘Miss Avari?’ A short, elderly woman in a patched-up flowery apron appeared in the foyer. ‘If you follow me, I’ll take you to our Lord.’
The mysterious lord. The title alone made my stomach twist. I lived in the Elemental Lands my whole life and never once heard of the Isles of Shadow. Then again, I’d been sheltered and kept in the dark, so perhaps that explained it.
Even in my foul mood, walking beside the woman, I couldn’t help appreciating the wooden accents and the cottage warmth of the vast estate. But the air felt too still—like the house itself was holding its breath. The building had a soul; it breathed with me, tracking every move as if something about me piqued its interest.
‘It’s through this door,’ she said, leaving me there as I stared at the heavy wood and wondered whether I was ready for whatever waited beyond it.
What did he want? Political leverage? My dragon? A halfling for some twisted reason?
I knocked twice. The doors opened before I could attempt a third. A tall, black-haired man dressed in opulence—a velvet abyss of a suit—stood waiting. Older than me, though fae rarely showed age until a couple of hundred years in, faint lines creased his forehead.
‘Finally,’ he said, voice smooth and unsettlingly amused. ‘I’ve waited a long time for you.’
