Page 177 of Black Sea

Nauriel.

I rushed toward the windows and grabbed the knobs beneath the thin blue curtains, but stopped the moment I saw my reflection in the glass.

Amlach’s mark was gone.

Beneath the dirt, my face was clean.

Furious and shattered at once, I threw open the glass doors and stepped out onto the terrace. The patch of sun setting beyond the Forest of Witches was so vividly orange that it looked unreal. Above the Kingdom of Men, the slate-gray sky was streaked with thinning clouds in shades of amethyst and raspberry.

There was no longer any sign of the black clouds over Leukós. Still, that battered land now looked exactly that color.

Unable to bear the sight of it, I bowed my head and gripped the top of the balustrade so angrily that the stone cracked.

Nauriel.

My eyes darted northward, toward the dense forest covering the Aroron Mountains, toward the oldest temple far from Aegel’s Palace. Amlach’s voice was echoing from there, I realized with renewed fear.

But when my name reverberated around me once more like a ghost from the afterlife, I understood he was not the one calling me.

It was his magic trapped inside Calien’s Crystal.

How was that even possible? And why did I perceive it so vehemently?

The urge to find my mate hit me like a whip. At the sudden memory of my soldiers pouncing on him, my breath caught in my throat, then it became uneven and distressed. My heart started pounding painfully against my chest, almost making me feel like I was suffocating.

I needed to see Amlach. Now.

Unconcerned that blood and tears and dust were crusted on my face, I left my wing of the palace and moved into the main one through the inner corridors. When I heard my parents’ and Araton’s voices in one of the living rooms on the ground floor, I went in without bothering to knock.

The happiness on my father’s and brother’s faces, who had washed off the slimy blackish blood of the beasts slaughtered in the humans’ farmlands and villages and had worn white and gray robes respectively, vanished the second I opened my mouth.

“Where is Amlach?” I asked imperiously.

“His name is Mornon,” the king scolded me.

“Not to me,” I declared harshly.

Father glared at me.

Araton exhaled forcefully through his nose, ran a hand over his exhausted face, his knuckles scraped and bloodied, and leaned his back against the tall window. “Oh, Sister . . .” he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

Mother, who until then hadn’t uttered a whisper, her fingers pressed to her mouth, couldn’t hold back anymore and pulled me into a tight embrace. “I knew you could do it,” she whispered, tears wetting my hair as she rubbed her cheek against it. “I knew your love would prevail.”

Nauriel.

I stiffened, trying with all my might to ignore the call of darkness. The Queen of the Elves withdrew, peering at me with a cautious frown.

I gave a hesitant smile that didn’t convince her at all, then turned back to Father with a stern look. “Where is he?”

Mother shot him a withering glance as she went back to position herself in front of the sumptuous wooden couch.

He took a deep breath and, in a grave tone, said, “In the only place where an unholy creature like him should be.”

“He’s my mate,” I snarled, taking a threatening step forward, blood pulsing in my temples, my fingers tingling with the urge to tear flesh with my nails.

My family looked at me with concern, as if I were a beast ready to go for their jugulars.

I tried to conceal my own alarmism caused by that fit of feral aggressiveness, wondering why it had pervaded me even though the darkness no longer dwelled within me. Then I continued fervently, “Did you not see what happened? Did you not understand? He has no magic left inside him, not even a drop. All his power and the dark forces he commanded are locked within the Crystal. It’s like his witch side no longer exists. He’s just an elf now.”