Page 55 of What Beats Within the Tunnels

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, and Twig flies in, a tall mug in hand. “Your Highness, I thought you might appreciate this,” he says, extending the mug toward me. Every night, he’s been preparing a special tea for me— a concoction of herbs and magic meant to help me sleep and alleviate the tension I’ve been grappling with.

“Thanks, Twig. Have a good night,” I reply as he departs, and I swiftly consume the soothing beverage.

The draught starts to work immediately, and I’m grateful for it. Otherwise, I’d be up all night with my mounting frustration.

I must’ve contemplated visiting her more than a dozen times. It’s challenging to concentrate, knowing she’s nearby. I could channel there within minutes and take her with me. However, such a move might be in vain. I want her to come to me willingly, especially before he has a chance to harm her. If he’s genuinely entertaining a newfound infatuation with her to spite me—I won’t hesitate to end him.

I need her to understand that my intentions were always to safeguard her. As my feelings for her deepened, I became hesitant to reveal the truth, fearing it might push her away. By the time I recognized the urgency of being transparent, it was already too late. Enough of this inner turmoil—I need to see her. I’ll remain unnoticed and won’t enter his home. I merely wish to catch a glimpse of her from afar, to reassure myself that she’s truly well.

I get to my feet and channel to the Dream Forest. I stop on the outskirts of Colton’s property. I’ve never understood why he’s always preferred living so far away from everyone else. I channel to the other side of the grounds and look around. Seeing no signs of anyone, I channel closer to the house. Then I spot her. She’s in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a long tunic…one of his tunics. Disgusted, I struggle to stifle my rage at seeing her in his clothes.

I take a moment to steady my breathing, focusing on the way her hair cascades down her back, how she moves gracefully from the counter to the stove. It’s undeniable that Lyra has this ineffable allure about her. But right now, it’s not her charm that’s pulling me in. It’s the worry, the anxiety, and the overwhelming need to ensure her well-being.

Watching her, I’m reminded of all our shared moments, the laughter, the secrets we whispered in the dark, the plans we made of a future together. The past few months without her have felt like an eternity, a chasm of emptiness threatening to consume me.

She reaches up to open a cabinet, and the tunic rides up slightly. I catch a glimpse of her legs and feel an even sharper pang of jealousy. The idea of Colton seeing her like this, or even more, is too much to bear. Yet I can’t bring myself to look away.

Suddenly, she pauses, as if sensing something. Her eyes dart around the room, and for a moment I think she’s sensed my presence. I push down the surge of hope. It’s not possible, I remind myself. Yet, as she scans the room, her gaze seems to pause momentarily in my direction. The distance and the walls between us don’t allow for our eyes to meet, but I swear there’s a hint of recognition in her eyes. Or maybe it’s my longing making me see things.

I retreat a few steps, keeping the house and Lyra in view but blending more into the shadows. She’s the same Lyra, yet there’s a difference in her demeanor, a new confidence. I miss her so much, and the weight of my decisions press on me heavily.

The moment is broken when someone else enters the kitchen – it’s Colton. My fists clench instinctively. He says something to her, his tone light, making her laugh. It’s a sound I’ve missed desperately, but hearing it because of him is a knife to my heart.

As they continue their interaction, the reality of the situation sets in. I can’t stand here and watch. The feeling of helplessness, mixed with anger and regret, becomes overwhelming.

I need a plan, something to bridge the gap between us. It’s clear that merely waiting and hoping isn’t enough. With one last look at Lyra, I channel away from the forest, the image of her laughing with Colton seared into my mind.

I settle back into my study. I was miserable without her these last months, but at least I knew she was in Zomea with her father. Now she’s in my kingdom, so close. Knowing she’s with him gnaws at my insides, especially not knowing the extent of their relationship. I’ve been so distracted. I need to focus on what I can control, and right now I can’t control what Lyra’s doing, at least not in a way that would be seen as good.

The door opens, and I look up from my desk to see Twig approaching with a stack of mail. “All of these came this morning, and Bim and Flora arrived wanting to see you again.”

“Thanks, send them in,” I say, taking the stack of parchment from him.

“Have there been more attacks?” Bim asks, glancing at the new stack of mail in front of me that I’m shuffling through.

“Yes.” I pause, taking a deep breath. “It seems there have been, but I’ll need to sort through all of these new ones and respond accordingly.”

“Last night, Colton mentioned the unlocked bridge has been attracting waves of evil creatures, Sarrols included. Do you think that’s what’s behind the recent attacks here too?” Bim asks.

I think about that for a moment. “Granger told me there have been whispers amongst the elders of getting the Luminary Council back together again. I don’t think it’s the bridge being unlocked. I think it’s her—Lyra,” I say, and it burns saying her name aloud. Gods, do I miss her.

“What do you need from me?” Bim asks, knowing better than to probe further into the topic.

“I need you to gather some of the men and look into these attacks.” I hand him a piece of parchment with a list of recent incidents on it. “Whatever I find this morning when I finish going through this stack, I’ll look into myself. Let’s meet back up tonight for dinner.”

“Consider it done.” Bim takes the list and vanishes, channeling to the nearest army headquarters, I assume, to find a handful of men to assist him.

“What can I help you with?” Flora asks, dragging her finger across my bookshelf and examining the dust it leaves on her fingertip.

“You can go to the elders’ palace library. I’ve already told Granger you’ll be stopping by more frequently until we figure things out,” I tell her.

“What do you want me to focus on? Dark magic still?” she asks, turning her attention to me.

“No, I need you to look for something more important.” She narrows her eyes at me, sensing the seriousness in my tone. “Colton gave Lyra one of my father’s journals that day she went with you to the library. She waited to tell me about it—”

“How did Colton get one of your father’s journals?” she asks, cutting me off.

“That’s not important. What’s important is what it said. He spoke of a prophecy regarding Lyra. He always spoke of her darkness before his death, saying Euric’s offspring would destroy everything. He never mentioned another way. But this journal said otherwise,” I tell her.