Page 141 of The Reaping Rose

She told me once she was torn when her father died, that she considered rejecting the crown and offering it to her brother. I asked her why she didn’t, and her answer was simple.

“Because they needed me.”

The blood of the kingdom to guide them. To protect them. To lead them.

They need that certainty again now. Cohesion that only I can bring.

I let my mind travel deeper into the threads. Into the darkness Elorie usually stirs. She isn’t there now, too far for me to reach her. But there are hints. Her emotions linger. Some of hope, others worry. I snag on one that feels like dread, and I caress my magic over it, soothing it.

For her.

For us.

I send her a thought, a kiss of aether. I send her a brush of hope in case she needs it. Even if I struggle to find it myself without her.

Chapter 47

Elorie

Roots jut through the dirt, jabbing into my back as I blink my eyes open. The obsidian shackles have been removed from my wrists, but something still dampens my magic.

Lifting my hand, I flex my fingers in front of my face. My fingertips shimmer with the hint of starlight stirring in my veins. It flecks as I rub them together, but I feel nothing.

It does nothing.

I push myself to sit, finding myself in a cell that reminds me of the one I was held in at the Ley Court. Dark and damp. Deep underground.

Unlike the greenery outside the manor, the moss here is brittle. The roots are gray and splintered as they’ve been in the forests we’ve traveled since being in this realm. Deep in the land, death creeps through.

This is where I wanted to be for so long. The Mortal Realm was a promise of home—of something better. Hope for the humans. Salvation for those of us who have suffered our entire lives on a frozen island. Yet it’s none of those things.

My blood may run back here, but this is not where I belong. I belong at Wilder’s side, however that looks. Whether I’m his queen or partner or simply his mate. The title is not important, although I’m beginning to understand why I feared it. It wasn’t me doubting him; it was the things I’d yet to let go of.

A hope that I’d see the humans home. That we would finally leave the constraints of the Fae when I’ve quickly learned it’s all the same.

Fae. Human. There are monsters among both.

The battles never cease.

The destruction continues.

My home is not here, where my ancestors once walked this land. It is with those who have claimed me—trusted me—regardless of what is in my veins. My friends, my mate, his court. They are my family now, and I belong with them, not just fighting for one side, but both.

My fingers twitch as I start to wake, strength returning to my bones.

“Elorie?” Callum’s voice is raw as his movements rustle in the cell beside mine.

“Callum, gods, you’re alive.” Every muscle aches as I push to my feet and rush across the cell.

My hands shoot through the bars, gripping his arm to confirm he’s not an illusion. After Overlord Farseth said he took care of them, I worried for the worst.

“I’m okay.” He rubs his temples. “Where is Perame? They—” He coughs. “They stabbed her with something. An obsidian spear, I think?”

“She’s not in there with you?” I glance behind him, but he’s alone in his small cell, just like I am.

My legs ache as I move around, searching the corners of the cell on my other side.

“There,” Callum says, and I glance to where he’s pointing into the dim space at the center of the room.