Page 102 of Elysian

“I do not believe he would if I were not his bondmate. He loathed me upon meeting me. When he discovered I was a redblood, I was sure I would be slaughtered then and there.” My fingers curled into the arms of the seat I had taken. “No, I do not think he cares for me.”

Liadan paled. Only one person could put that familiar look on his face. I winced, but kept myself composed. Tabby cleared her throat.

“Your Highness,” she mumbled.

I made a show of straightening my shoulders and turned. “Ah, my lord, how is Abrax?” I asked, my tone impersonal. Cassiel’s face was stiff, and he continued staring at me.

‘My lord?’

I did not react to his voice in my head. Only because I knew him on a personal level did I understand that the stillness on his face indicated anger.

“Get the healer!” a shout echoed through the cavernous parlor.

I set my teacup down as many people rushed toward the entrance. “Should we go?” I asked, frowning.

“No, let us wait for them to clear the area. We do not want to be a hindrance.” Tabby took a sip from her tea. From the other circular table where other groups were joined, the women remained still. “It sounds like people seeking refuge. We have a specific alarm that will sound if it is a threat.”

A sharp scream ripped through the halls.

“Now that sounds concerning.” Tabby placed her cup aside and stood. Her gown swayed around her as she walked out. I followed behind her, brushing past Cassiel. He reached for my arm, and I avoided his grip, glaring up at him. He drew straight, but another scream had me rushing.

I neared the circular entrance by the base of the stairs. Bodies compacted the space, making it difficult to see where they stared.

“Get her away from here. That will contaminate all of us.”

“Please, we need help. We are not working with the council.”

That voice . . .

“What if they sent them for⁠—”

All other voices swam into the background. I began to shove through the crowd. One of the men I had to push turned with a shout. He looked over my shoulder at my intimidating shadow and paled, moving to the side.

“We know Damien Rinx. He told us how to get here.”

“And where is Damien?” Archer’s tone held a healthy dose of disbelief.

“We had to leave him behind west of here. He has taken to hiding. He sent us ahead because of Vera.”

“Let me through!” I shouted. “Branwen! Vera!” A crowd of ten men compacted the space.

“Miss, you should get behind,” Stewart, one of the older redblood men I met after arriving, said softly to me.

“Amara?” Branwen cried back.

“I’m here!” I shoved forward another bit.

‘For Saint’s sake, Amara, wait.’ I ignored Cassiel’s chastisement.

The group of men parted.

Branwen and Vera came into view. Dirt smudged their faces. They wore basic black gowns with snags and twigs clinging to the fabric.

“Amara, something is wrong with Vera. I do not know,” she sobbed, readjusting Vera’s arm over her shoulder.

“I am . . .” Vera started as her weight rested more heavily on Branwen. I lunged to catch her other side.

“I worry it is too far gone,” Branwen whispered.