Elorie’s eyes brighten. The corner of her mouth lifts. It’s not a smile, but it’s amusement. If only she knew the awful things Wilder has done over the centuries to her precious humans, she wouldn’t look at him like that. Gods, if she knew what he would do to the few who are left if she chose him, she’d leave him alone in the courtyard and go to bed.
She doesn’t know, of course. And either way, she won’t choose him.
Hate me all she wants, I’ll make sure of it.
The realms are starting to flicker. Soon, the Well will claim one, and I will do anything necessary to ensure it’s Vaelier.
Wilder grins when his back is to Elorie, careful not to let her see his true smile, but taken by her, nonetheless. I understand his interest. Elorie Vale is a pretty girl, even with her human blood. And humans do taste different enough from the Fae when you take them to bed that it makes them interesting.
When I was still a prince, I had my fun with plenty of humans on trips to the Mortal Realm. But a human isn’t worth the time of a king.
Maybe once she unleashes her power, I’ll have a taste.
Wilder says something that makes Elorie smile, but with his magic masking their conversation, I don’t hear what it is. He has his aura stretched beyond the edge of the ring so even Fae ears can’t spy on what he’s saying to her. Charming her like he’s good at. Something she doesn’t realize he’ll simply use against her like he’s done with his mate.
While Aurora sits on his throne, sending rebels to my shores to get her king back, he frolics with a human.
I’m tempted to visit her in Vaelier myself simply to see her face as she learns that bit of information, but the Arches are too unstable.
Elorie throws the dagger again, and it lands lower this time. Still not a flicker of magic. Greer and her ridiculous training methods. If it weren’t for her aunt, I’d disregard her entirely.
Pressing my palm to the glass window, I let it fizzle to nothing more than a warm glow. I turn in the large bath that makes up nearly half the floor in my bathing chamber and settle my head against a pillow on the ledge. My arms stretch out, while the orb burns against my chest.
Power floods my veins. The water slowly starts to bubble around me. Warming as steam licks up my skin. It fogs the air.
Closing my eyes, I listen to the orb. Whispering with the secrets of the gods.
The answers are just out of reach.
Soon.
I’ll have them soon.
We’ll complete the Rite, and I’ll have the power to harness what I’ve waited to claim for a century.
The door to my room clicks, and I crack an eye to see Selia walking toward me in her storm-gray dress. Darkness hangs around her golden-brown hair. Not even my light shines all the way through now that her brother is out of the prison.
For many decades, she was enough of a trophy to prove my strength. The daughter of Vaelier in my bed. I had won. But as magic flickers, winning the battle of Crowns is not enough. Until Vaelier is no longer feeding on the magic of my land—until the heartbeat of the kingdom returns to Lyrichia, I will not be strong enough.
“You didn’t fetch me when you returned.” She frowns.
“My meeting with Cyan and Alasdair left me on edge. I needed a bath.”
Her gaze moves to the window, fogged with magic. “You were watching them.”
“Clearly, you were too.”
She sighs, circling the room. “She’s nothing special.”
“Her magic is.” I watch Selia carefully as darkness stirs in her eyes. “You’re jealous. The question is, why? She’s not sharing my bed yet.”
Her back stiffens, but I don’t mince my words. Selia is not my queen. I’ve vowed never to take one. And only I choose who sleeps in my bed. More often than not, it is Selia, but other times it isn’t. And at some point, I will bed Elorie to make sure she understands which king she will bow to. Selia will have no choice but to accept it.
“Don’t worry, little storm cloud. You’re forever my favorite. I won’t leave you.”
“You won’t be loyal to me either.”
“A king is loyal to nothing but his kingdom. Offering you that would be a desecration of my crown. As the princess of Vaelier, you know this.”
