Page 270 of The Edge of Darkness

Breck was quiet for a long moment, then his shoulders sagged with relief, and he let out a breath. “The realms are better for it. You did what I failed to do.”

“You didn’t fail to do anything, Breck. You risked everything. For all of us.” The words—though they were as sincere as I could say them—didn’t feel like enough.

Weston came up to my side and extended his hand toward Breck. “I would like to offer my thanks as well.”

“You were there to protect her before I was,” Breck said. “I should be thanking you.” He took Weston’s hand and shook it.

It was then that I noticed Weston’s face. Before, it was strewn with small scars. Now, it was smooth. Not a blemish or remnant of injury in sight.

“Weston, your scars . . . The water must have healed them.”

He reached up and touched a finger to his cheeks, finding unmarred skin. Whether or not he considered the healing to be a blessing, he didn’t have time to say, because the wraith drifted forward with a chilling warning.

“You must go,” she said. “I feel something terrible is on its way. There is a shift beyond the mountains that has tainted the atmosphere.”

I straightened and looked at Breck. “Lyceius.”

The time had finally come.

I reached for the wraith’s hands and clasped them in mine. “You must stay hidden here, in the caves. War is coming. If our enemies somehow manage to get past the territory lines, they will scour the realm, and they must not find this place or you.”

She squeezed back. “I will make sure they do not find it.”

I nodded and released her hands, then stepped away and reached for the Dionachs and Breck. “We’re going to the war camp.”

Breck glanced between the Dionachs. “You can port the three of us and yourself?”

“How do you think we got here?” I lifted a brow.

His mouth fell open. “You did that while you were on the brink of death?!”

“You’re welcome.” I winked.

The wraith stepped forward once more. “I-I never learned your name when you came here before,” she said, almost shyly.

“Auren.”

“Auren,” she let the name linger on her tongue. “Will you return after the war, Auren?”

I paused and stared at her. Perhaps after being alone for so long, these unexpected visits to the cave had brought something back to life within her. Whatever it was, I saw the determination in her eyes. A spark had indeed ignited, and it was kindling a flame.

“Yes, I will,” I said, giving her a smile. “I believe I owe you a great deal of shadows for letting us barge in and use your sacred water.”

Her expression brightened as she grinned. “I am happy to help.”

“And what shall I call you, then?” I asked her.

She lifted her chin, flushing with pride, as if she had been waiting for so long to give her name to someone. “Sahren,” she said. “My name is Sahren.”

The moment the queen barged into my war tent with Folquin, I knew something was terribly wrong.

Auren was nowhere to be seen.

The sun had yet to crest the mountains. Shadows still slunk through the camp.

And my mate was missing.

Corinne moved with urgency, striding toward me, her robes billowing behind her.