Which left Cashure behind with the rest of her mates.
“What the fuck?!” Morgan whirled and glared at Atlas and Caedmon. “Why didn’t he follow?”
“He’s no longer needed.” Caedmon surveyed their surroundings, his eyes narrowed, his body tense, as if waiting for an attack.
“What do you mean?” Morgan marched toward him, getting right in his face until he had no choice but look at her. “Are you telling me we left him back at the coven? He’s a threat?—”
“He’s not interested in them,” Atlas countered, but Morgan wouldn’t be appeased.
“You don’t know that.” Magic stirred in her bones, heat tingling down her arms, ready to rip open a portal to get back. Before her magic could take shape, Caedmon lashed out and grabbed her wrist, his hold brutal.
“Don’t,” he warned, ignoring the sting of her magic that crackled along his skin. “Cashure isn’t interested in them, but if you try to go back without finishing the trial, you will be found guilty and sentenced accordingly.”
“But—”
“They will be fine,” Atlas assured her, coming to stop in front of her, cupping the back of her neck. His skin darkened, once again becoming her beloved dark elf. “Trust me.
“I do, but I refuse to believe this is the last time I’ll see them.” Panic twisted her insides at the very thought.
“Then stay alive long enough to beat Cashure’s ass the next time you see him.” Caedmon released her slowly, searching her face for reassurance that she wouldn’t do anything foolish. “You feel vulnerable without your mates near—that’s normal. Just remember that you are not alone.”
Morgan blew out a heavy breath, then gave a jerky nod.
Vulnerable was exactly how she felt.
She wasn’t worried about herself, she could handle whatever was thrown at her. She just hated not knowing her mates were safe.
“You must resist using your magic here in Faerie.” Caedmon cupped her elbow, squeezing her arm to emphasize his point. “Not only will it draw attention to us, it will make us a target.”
“Not at all?” Morgan was appalled, then exasperated and jerked away to glare at him. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that sooner?!”
She’d come to her powers late in life, but she’d become accustomed to using them to stay alive. They were so a part of her that not being allowed to use them was like losing a limb.
“It’s not forbidden.” Atlas tried to soothe her. “But every time you use them, you will put us in more danger.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” she huffed and grimaced.
How the fuck was she going to remember not to automatically reach for her magic?
They were so screwed.
“We need to go.” Caedmon nodded in the distance, then began walking. “We don’t want to be out in the open after dark.”
She trailed after him, falling into step behind him, while Atlas brought up the rear. “So this is Faerie. Tell me about it.”
Caedmon peered back at her from over his shoulder. “Everything on Faerie can kill you—the plants, the animals, and most especially, Faerie itself.”
“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” she muttered to his back, eyeing their surroundings more closely. The vegetation was wild and beautiful, the greens and blues so vibrant, it didn’t look real. If she stared long enough, she’d swear it actually moved, then she shook off the sensation, because that would be foolish, right?
The air was so fresh that it almost hurt to breathe. Magic soaked the atmosphere like a living beast. It was almost peaceful…if it didn’t feel like it was hungry and wanted to eat them.
The sounds were different from earth. Insects still buzzed, birds still chirped, but there was a more ominous tone to it.
Like they were being hunted.
“Faerie is similar to Mount Olympus, though there are a few big differences. Consider Faerie like it is its own continent. While other places have progressed with technology and made advancements, fae retreated from the world. It’s one of the last places that remain wild and free. The people revere the old ways. Lots of the mythological creatures migrated here to stay safe.”
A touch of longing entered his voice, and she realized that this was the first time he’d been able to return to his home in centuries, maybe even longer. She spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the silence and draw attention to themselves. “You miss it.”
