“You could have told me.”
“I wasn’t ready to.” His voice lowered.
“I was finally starting to trust you.” I crossed my arms.
“You never trusted me. You still don’t.” Veylar’s brush clanged into the metal bucket as it dropped from his hands. “Having you here with me…it’s dangerous for both of us.”
“Do your parents know I am here?” I asked.
“No.” His eyes narrowed. “If they knew you were here…” Lioran’s fingers gripped my uninjured arm and he pulled me back beside him. His eyes darted around the stable as another fae male entered.
“Go back to the cabin, stay hidden. We will discuss this later.” He towered over me.
I hurried back to the steps. Lioran watched me as I began to climb the stairs. The instant he turned the corner, I stepped back down.
A dense thicket of trees lay beyond the massive trees that housed the village. The winding breeze blew, and a melodic hum sounded with it—calling me into the woods. I followed it, not wanting to be there any longer.
Lioran was waiting to decide my fate, waiting to decide if I was worthy of being here. If he decided I wasn’t—then my life wasn’t my own. The ability to choose my fate wasn’t a luxury I’d have on either side of the divide.
The wind rallied as the first tear fell. Grey clouds overtook the white before the droplets fell from the sky. The more I cried, the more the water cascaded, until the sky opened and a downpour began.
Cool rain slammed into me. I wailed—it vibrated through me into the ground.
Freedom was a fleeting dream.
There would always be more powerful men to decide my future.
Bits of emerald grass and mud embraced my boots. A canopy of leaves barely covered me as the rain pelted me harder. A force swelled within me, reverberated through me, something grander than my anger.
The ground beneath my feet quaked.
I stood alone in a world that would never be my own.
Grass shriveled and decay overtook the ground with eachstep I took. It all crumpled beneath my feet. An intoxicating surge stirred within me—commanding something I couldn’t control.
Succumbing to the vibrations, quivering uncontrollably, my body was no longer my own. I sank into the middle of the destruction, fear gripped my throat. I gasped for air.
The war began, because I was born.
The gemstone was like ice on my chest. An unknown weight seized me. My fingers etched channels in the soil. Mud settled in the crevices between them.
“Aelira!” Fyn darted toward me, Lioran raced behind him. “You need to stop!”
Lioran’s chest heaved. Horror dulled his silver gaze—his eyes scanning everything I touched.
He knelt, glaring at me.
Waves of golden light rolled around his fingertips. He pressed his fingers deeper in the soil. The shimmering light rolled over the land between us. A hovering layer of magic that couldn’t touch the soil, it dissipated.
Lioran’s eyes were wild. “It won’t…I can’t do anything.”
“How?” Fyn’s single word hung between them as he backed away from me.
“Fix it! Now!” Lioran yelled.
“I…don’t know how,” I cried.
A desperate hum rose from the land, growing louder until I covered my ears, but it didn’t keep the call at bay.
