Page 95 of Black Sea

I felt as if the walls were closing in on me, while the lantern flames seemed to whisper my name.

“You’re cruel, Brother,” I said, my voice trembling with a mix of pain and anger. “How can you use that word with me, knowing the Spirits haven’t chosen any elf for me?”

He looked at me from head to toe, almost in disgust. “I’m not so certain anymore, after what I saw.”

“And what did you see, Araton?” I growled.

His expression turned grave. “I saw you fight for that half-elf with a fire you’ve never embraced before.”

I fell silent for a few seconds, my heavy breathing echoing in the hall. Then, slowly, I shortened the distance between us and stared at him with hatred. “If I could have, that day I would have saved every single wounded human on the battlefield. Because it would have been the right thing to do. Just as trying to save the only person who might have had a chance to survive was. I will never apologize for that.”

“You’re lying, Nauriel.” Araton shook his head slightly, watching me with great disappointment. “You’re lying to yourself.”

I recalled Amlach’s sensual voice in my mind persuading me to stay calm. “Just because you decided to shut your heart to goodness after Serie’s death doesn’t mean I have to.”

Pain glimmered in his eyes. “I didn’t shut my heart, Sister,” he replied sadly. “I lost it.”

He hesitated, and that brief pause made me feel so guilty for mentioning his mate’s name.

“And I hope you never find out what that feels like,” he added cryptically, then headed up the stairs.

I remained in the lobby for a whole minute, perfectly still, as if a statue, feeling my lungs burning more intensely with every steady breath. Then, with unbidden tears on my cheeks, I pushed open the heavy oak doors and entered Araton’s sorrowful wing, making my way through the corridors that linked the three grand main buildings of the palace to reach my own.

Because if I stepped outside again, I would go back to Amlach.

57

I couldn’t sleep. I told myself it was just because my mother had knocked on my door twice already, promising to return every hour until I opened it. But I actually did know why I kept tossing and turning under the cerulean-and-white blankets of my large bed, sinking deeper and deeper into the pillows of the same colors.

I wanted Amlach.

He was too far away from me.

Even though I had spent many nights without him when we were in Rubra, I could rely on the sheets soaked with his masculine scent. On the fact that when I woke up, I would find him by my side.

But the one I was in now wasn’t our bed. I couldn’t breathe in his smell on the pillow.

I lifted the tight sleeve of my cornflower blue robe to touch my right wrist. I missed the handcuff that connected me to Amlach, the chain that had always prevented us from sleeping in non-mirrored positions.

I made the mistake of picturing him in that underground cell, curled on that miserable mattress that couldn’t shield him from the dampness of the stone bench. Had he been given at least a blanket? Or was he shivering violently due to the cold? Had dinner been brought to him? Water?

I raised my arm above my head to grasp the elaborate wooden headboard, digging my nails into it to refrain from dashing out of the compound and going to him.

However, I doubted I would succeed because my ears had caught the footsteps of the guards who, by order of the king, had taken positions at the three main entrances to the palace and the secondary ones. He had likely heightened surveillance at the dungeons as well, in case I managed to elude all the soldiers around the palace.

But I didn’t want to do anything that would compromise my father’s decision about Amlach.

So, I rolled onto my back and looked up through the pointed glass ceiling, observing the blanket of stars in the nearly black sky. Thin, elongated silvery clouds covered the bottom of the full moon, casting darkness on one side of my bed.

I turned and ran my hand over the pillow, imagining Amlach was here with me, stroking my hair the way we both loved, watching me until he was sure I had fallen asleep in his safe embrace.

Gradually, my eyelids became heavy, and as Amlach’s name echoed in every corner of my mind, sleep claimed me.

* * *

I woke up with a start, sensing I was no longer alone in my room. And I wasn’t.

“Amlach,” I gasped, sitting up abruptly.