Page 45 of Crownless Heirs

“No one has to know,” she pleaded, breathless. “I’ll put it back. We can forget I was ever here.”

The guard raised his sword, voice grim. “Bres will know someone entered this room. If I can’t explain it, he’ll start killing us one by one until he’s satisfied.”

She staggered to her feet, crashing into the desk. The book fell to the floor, pages spread wide as the glow deepened. The guard charged. Riona dodged, drawing her dagger just as his blade sliced past her shoulder. She plunged the dagger into his side. He roared, and his sword clipped her back as she tried to escape, blood spilling in streaks across the stone.

“Please stop,” she begged one last time.

But the guard raised his sword again. Riona acted on instinct. She threw the dagger, and the blade struck his throat. He staggered, blood splattering against the pale marble walls. For a breath, he stood frozen. Then his body crumpled to the ground.

Silence followed the guard’s collapse, but only for a moment before the book roared alive. A sudden wave of blood burst from its open pages, flooding the study with an eerie, otherworldly glow. The blood soaking the marble began to stir. At first, it rippled like a slow-moving brook before it lifted, rising in threads that twisted through the air, slow and searching.

Riona staggered back, her breath caught in her throat, as the blood rose higher, twisting around her. It gathered speed, spinning in wide arcs. The blood spilled had become a storm, a cyclone of crimson fury, and she was standing at its heart.

And then it struck her; the force of it hit like a mace to the face. Her scream was lost in the roar as the blood storm slammed into her body. Pain exploded through every nerve. Muscles tearing, bones shattering and healing simultaneously, her spine arched against the pressure. Her vision blurred, as if seeing underwater. Her runes ignited with light, glowing beneath her skin in pulsing crimson. The markings spread, alive and shifting, crawling across her arms, her chest, her back. Ancient shapes, burned into her with every heartbeat. Her body convulsed as more power surged through her, seizing her breath, folding her inward, then forcing her open again. And through the agony, the voice returned.

”All power demands a price, little thief. You desired more, and so the blood on your hands shall become the curse in your veins. You now hold the power to give life or take it. Do not waste the lives it has cost you.”

The room pulsed once more, and then the magic sank into her as naturally as breathing. Crumpling to the floor in a heap of blood and tears, she gasped for breath. Her limbs were heavy and trembling from the aftermath. All around her, the room was silent again. And when Riona opened her eyes, they no longer looked the same.

22

Reunion

Sorcha no longer looked human. When she had first unleashed her power, she had begun to change. Her eyes first, the green flecks had still clung to them, as if refusing to fully fade but now the green was gone. Her irises swirled with liquid gold and crimson twisting together in a constant, hypnotic rhythm, like a fire burning just beneath the surface. Her hair had carried the clash of colors since the first appearance of her power, but now It wasn’t just color. It was alive. Streaks of gold melted through the red, shimmering. She looked otherworldly now, completely. Her slightly pointed ears peeked through the waves of her hair, now reaching past her torso. Nothing about her resembled the mortal girl who had entered this place. She looked stronger not just in presence, but physically. The muscles in her arms, shoulders, and hands were more defined. Not dramatically altered, but enough that the difference was clear. Something had changed. Not enough to make her unrecognizable, but enough that they noticed.

Sorcha saw them and stood from the bed, a radiant smile lighting up her face. “I’ve never been happier to see you two in my life,” she chuckled.

They didn’t answer immediately. Both were still staring, confused, wanting to ask questions, glancing at each other before looking back at Sorcha. But then, a quiet understanding passed between them. Without a word, they smiled back and stepped forward.

Maelan was the first to break the silence, wrapping his arms around her. “And how is my queen feeling?"

Sorcha hugged him tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of honey and cinnamon.

Their arms dropped, and she turned to Kyron, who stood just behind Maelan, watching her closely. “You look like you’re doing much better.” Her eyes went to his arm, then she stepped past Maelan, pulling Kyron into an embrace as well. “Thanks to you both, I’m alive.”

Tears pricked her eyes, her voice trembling.

Kyron held her tightly before finally pulling away. “Can you walk?” His gaze followed her every movement.

Sorcha glanced between them, then down at herself, taking in the way she felt lighter, stronger, different. She took a slow step, then another, walking the room to test herself.

“I feel…” she stopped, the smile dropping from her face. Her eyes were blank for a moment, glazed over, like she was somewhere else. “I still ache in places...” She stood quiet, far away from her body, lost in her thoughts. Her hand hovered over his chest.

Outside, the sun was fading, the sky deepening into an impossible shade of violet as night crept in.

Maelan broke the silence. “ Do you want to take a walk?”

Sorcha hesitated before sitting on the chair near the bed, her voice unsteady. “Can we wait a minute? I have questions. I need to know…” She swallowed hard, palms damp with sweat. Shifting in her seat, she glanced between Kyron and Maelan, who waited silently. “Was Riona there? I swear I saw her.”

“She was there, Sorcha,” Kyron interrupted, his face paler than before.

He knelt before her, his gaze locking onto hers. “She was there,” he repeated, softer this time, more cautious. “She helped Vaelric escape.” His voice trailed off.

Sorcha shot to her feet, the chair clattering to the ground behind her. “No.” She shook her head violently. “She would never do that. I… I…” Her voice cracked. She started pacing, her breaths uneven.

Kyron moved to approach her, but Maelan’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“Let me,” he murmured.