Sometimes, when she was still a child, she’d dreamed what it would be like to have magic of her own, but when she’d asked her adopted father, he’d told her that she’d be executed.
So she’d ignored the dreams and the flickers of what the world could look like. She ignored the images assaulting her when she hid in the peace and quiet of her rooms.
“I’ll need you for the ceremony tonight.” Not a question, but a fact. She was part of the celebrations for the Tears of the Gods every year. There was no reason it should be any different this time.
Running a hand over his beard, he studied her slow gait, her slender figure. “Another attack happened last night.”
Elina’s hand stilled mid-motion to the cup of rose-scented water in front of her. “Where?”
“Toward the coast this time.”
Forcing her hand to grab the cup and lead it to her mouth, Elina nodded. “How many?” The aftermath of those attacks was always gruesome. Her father’s guards needed to ride out into the heat of the desert to reach the affected regions. The rebels responsible usually had disappeared back into hiding, and all that was left was death and destruction. Corpses over corpses for them to bury and mourn.
“Twenty-three,” Ulder said, chin lowered and gaze cast to the floor. “Seven of them were children.”
Elina stifled a sob. Every time news of attacks reached the palace, she dreaded to hear how many of the good people of Sen Dunai had been killed. Except for those few loyal men and women training with General Ycken, they all belonged on the butchering block, especially the Flame-born who kept causing such uproar.
“I’ll say prayers for all of them,” Elina promised as her father walked the length of the room to pull on thepurple velvet cord beside her bed. A breath later, a guard entered the room, bowing low before the king.
“Unlock the anklet,” Ulder ordered, and the guard—a fine man who often stood watch in front of her chambers—knelt down in front of Elina, who lifted her lilac silk skirts a few inches to give him access.
She didn’t wince as the metal grated against her flesh, but the taste of salt and iron filled her mouth as her teeth cut the inside of her cheek.
“The general found some of the rebels hiding here in Dunai,” Ulder said as he watched the guard free Elina’s foot.
Elina cocked her head, dreading to hear what would happen to the people in question. “Flame-born?” It was all she really needed to know.
Ulder shrugged. “Perhaps. But most of all, Criu.” His face turned into a grimace at the last word.
The Criu were almost as bad as the Flame-born, their rebels still fighting to regain control over trading routes and territory. Thank the Guardians, Ulder had replaced their duke years ago with a man he could trust. Couldn’t those rebels see they were tearing this kingdom apart?
The entire Criulian nobility had abandoned their province. Sometimes, when she was little, Ulder had told stories about the former Criulian rulers, the Pervailles. They’d led their people into ruin with their favoritism of the magically gifted, and their hunger for power had nearly destroyed Brestolya.
When they left the room, the sun had almost set, and the usually light sandy color of everything she could see from her window was now a murky, wet brown.
The air tasted of hope and despair, and of a new year that would only bring her more misery.
Twenty-Nine
Lory
“Oh my gods,”Lory cried as she panted into Khayrivven’s shoulder, his wet hair dripping onto her cheek. “Oh my fucking gods.”
“This was?—”
“Incredible?” Lory supplied, but Khayrivven shook his head against her hair, brushing a kiss on her neck.
“Life-altering.”
He was right, and the sensation running through her body as Lory examined the thread connecting them almost made her cry out once more.
“What just happened?”
A low, sensual chuckle sounded against her ear, soft and gentle and full of promises.
Unlike the last time they’d been together, Khayrivven didn’t slip away to start pacing. “Our mating bond.”
Holy fucking GODS.
