Faron, Enya’s mind said. The copper of his skin gleamed with the melted snow that shook off the thick white fur slung from his shoulders.
Enya snapped my attention back as Olienna’s lips tilted into a soft grin as she stood. The fabric of her black gown rippled down the front.
Watch, Enya seemed to say.Listen.
“Welcome, Sister,” the queen said. “Thank you for coming.” She gestured to the oval table between them as the Bellators shuffled around, finding their places.
I stopped walking a few feet before my seat.
“Ordell said there would be snacks,” I said, crossing my arms before the group.
A scoff left the sensuous lips of the man to my right. His bright green eyes flared as he glanced at me before softly shaking his head.
“What a sneer to wear on the face of a gentleman, Kyson,” I crooned, clucking my tongue. “One might think I wasn’t welcome.”
Kyson watched as I placed a hand on my heart, noting the darkness slithering in my veins. It rarely left these days, its strength growing to a level I scarcely imagined. A flicker of apprehension crossed his features before he schooled them into cool confidence.That look,my half-conscious self thought.The Ravindra eyes, the Ravindra look.
“One might think you were working with them, given your destructive history, Enya,” Kyson said, his clear voice ringing through the vast, crystal chamber.
The others shifted in their seats at the tone of the king of Lotrennia.
Fury lit the fuse hitched to my powers, and I let a small shadow spin into my palms, where it hovered above my skin.
Kyson’s gaze transformed from green to white flames as he took in the blatant threat. His hands curled into fists.
“Seems you’ve lost your kingdomandyour wits if you think I’d ally with them,” I snapped.
Olienna opened her mouth to interject when the door to the great hall opened, and the warm scent of cinnamon drifted in with the cool breeze from the surrounding mountains. My heart skipped a beat, but I didn’t let myself turn around.
“I brought snacks,” Ordell proclaimed as he strode down the hall, tossing a bag of sweets onto the round table.
Do not smile.
I chanted the command in my mind as the handsome, tawny-eyed elf shot a quick look in my direction before finding his seat among his brothers and sisters. He ruffled his short, sandy brown hair in that I-don’t-give-a-shit way before pulling a round, sugary piece of taffy from the bag and popping it into his mouth.
“Caramel?” His lips kicked up into a smirk as he lifted an eyebrow and nodded to me.
My eyes lingered briefly on the perfect curve of his lips. “I prefer chocolate.”
A quick, barely perceptible twist of his wrist ignited a sprinkling of golden power, and the caramel in his hand took on a dark, creamy hue. He extended his palm toward me, which I ignored. I scanned the rest of the group watching me with wary interest.
Brothers and sisters in bond, not in blood.
The Band of the Bellators.
The final seven. Eight, I realized, if I were to join them.
“We don’t have much time,” Olienna said from the head of the table, her violet eyes sparkling. “By coming here, Enya, you’ve answered the call. The call to protect the innocent from all threats to this world.”
“One thousand, four hundred and fifty years,” the woman to my left said, her heavily accented voice ringing through the room. “According to the constellations.”
Her hair, as dark and deep as red wine, hung in tight curls, draping past her shoulders. I lifted a brow at the young woman.
“Lelyth has never been wrong. And we are the last,” the man nearest me said, pinning his soft brown eyes on me. He lifted a dark hand and scratched at the thick beard covering his chin. “Fifteen hundred years is a long time. Even for the elves, it is too long. We start now or never.”
I blinked at the powerful man sitting before me. My mind whirred as I began reading between the lines. Was he suggesting…
“They are coming for all of us. They want what was taken. We must decide…”
