He glances up at Selia. His fingers brush her jaw, tugging a smile up in the corners of her mouth.
“I suppose I do understand the beauty that comes from Vaelier.” The king grabs Selia by the throat, pulling her closer. “Quite difficult to capture, but when you do, easily moldable.”
He holds Selia’s lips near his, but his eyes cut to Wilder. They’re taunting each other, using us to irritate the other. I should mind, but I find myself leaning closer to Wilder, offering him whatever comfort I can as the king claims Selia in a kiss.
When they break apart, her eyes are hazy, but she’s smiling, not the least bit bothered by the king’s display. She juts her chin triumphantly at her brother, ignoring me entirely.
“Are you ready to fulfill your promise to me, Elorie Vale?” King Malachi asks, glancing at where Wilder’s hand remains on my back.
My mouth turns to sand. “I am.”
At the edge of my mind, I feel Wilder’s thoughts scattering around. He’s thinking so many different things that it’s difficult to make sense of them. While he reads my thoughts so easily, I can never understand what he doesn’t send to me directly.
“Very well.” King Malachi waves a dismissive hand. “Enjoy your evening.”
It’s more of a threat than well-wishes. Music filters back into the room, and dancing resumes. It’s utterly pretentious.
Callum and Greer stand in the line of guards at the wall, making them unapproachable. Maybe that’s for the best when I’m already losing my nerve to be here.
“Wine, Ms. Vale?” A female stops in front of me, holding out a glass, and I shake my head.
She doesn’t offer it to Wilder, setting the tone.
Around us, Fae laugh and drink like their existence doesn’t rely on my survival tomorrow.
“Your survival is not in question.”Wilder glances at me.
“Just because my magic is awake doesn’t mean it’s strong enough to get me through the Rite in one piece.”
“Your doubt does nothing but reinforce that. You need to believe in yourself.”
“I’m trying.”I really am, but the more I consider what will be lost alongside what I save, the harder it is to hold faith.
“I know.”Wilder’s expression softens.“Are we done here now?”
“We just arrived.”
“Which means they’ve seen us, and we can go.”
My stomach somersaults at his smile.“We’re done.”
Wilder firms his grasp on my waist as he guides me through the room. We’re no longer in view of the king, but I manage to meet Callum’s stare one last time before we leave. The next time I see him will be at the Rite.
Guards don’t try to stop us, and they don’t follow.
Wilder guides me back down the hall in which we came, veering in the opposite direction when we reach the fork that leads to my room.
“Where are we going?”
“To get some air.” He guides me toward the courtyard.
A honeysuckle-scented breeze whispers in my ear as we step outside. And above, there are so many stars—I could lie here all night and never count them all.
Instead of walking into the ring, we take the path that surrounds it. A stony circle with small alcoves and benches. Trees line every edge, so there’s no way out without a Gate.
And no way in.
I look up at the stars, a never-ending path that glows like it calls out to me. Pausing, I point up at the archer’s bow Father used to show me as a child.
