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“Uh-huh. And this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that a certain knight is on his way to this very same village at present?”

“Never even crossed my mind.”

“It’s dangerous for you. We know Kinsgaith to be home to scores of sympathizers, at best, and full-blown sanguinagi at worst. They will not be happy to see an Arcanian in their midst. And unlike Zephyr, you do not have the ability to glamour yourself into looking human.”

Ollie tsked. “Unlike Zephyr,” he mocked, “I do not have green skin or sylvan proportions.” He raked his fingers through the mop of turquoise hair on his head. “All I need is a proper hat, and we’ll be golden.” As if to emphasize his point, he snapped his fingers, and the ice-blue wings on his back disappeared.

Tenny bit her lip, and victory flashed in Ollie’s brown eyes.

“Don’t get too excited. We can’t just up and leave,” she said. “There is still work to finish here. And we need to prepare an official petition for King Callum before I can even think of going anywhere.”

“To send reinforcements to Luminaria?”

“Yes. Reports say that the castle has been re-warded and is impenetrable once more, but who knows how many of Malakar’s followers are living within the walls of the Lost City?”

“Right. And whether he’s hiding once more within the castle or is licking his wounds somewhere else, we all know his plan cannot be finished.”

Tenny breathed in, her lungs filling fully for what felt like the first time since the night of the attack on King’s Keep. This was exactly what she had been missing these past weeks. Drive. Purpose. Something to push all this agony into.

Tenny did not want to miss out on anything else.

She would not let her father’s shadow define Kingshelm.

She would not let Malakar tear the world apart.

And she would not let the people she loved face it all without her any longer.

16

HOME AGAIN

ELYRIA

Warmth.

The kind that seeped into limbs, curled over goose-pimpled skin, heated chilled bones. Sunbeams streaming through light-dappled leaves. A roaring fire in a cozy hearth. Warmth and light and an unmistakable hum of power coiling right in the center of her chest. That was what Elyria felt as she roused.

Such a pleasant dream, she thought, the final vestiges of sleep still clouding her mind. A welcome reprieve from the nightmares she’d had each night since the events at Seastone. The nightmares she’d lived during the days since.

She did not particularly want to wake from this one. Not as that warmth traveled through her body like it was a physical thing, a grip against her body, holding her close, banding around her hips, across one of her arms.

It felt so real.

Understanding crested like dawn on the horizon. It felt like waking up—slow at first, and then all at once. Breath caught in Elyria’s chest as her eyes fluttered open. She dipped her chin to take in the strong, tanned arms wrapped around her midsection, watched the early-morning light glint off the silver ring looped around one finger.

Was it real?

She tried her very best not to move, not even to breathe. She didn’t dare disturb this blessing, this miracle she had been granted. But eventually, the moment came when she could hold her breath no longer, and when she was finally forced to exhale, it was on a shaking sob.

Cedric’s arms tightened around her, and he drew her closer, fitting the length of her body perfectly into the curve of his. His breaths were slow and even, each one the very sound of contentment as they ghosted across her ear, and Elyria had to shut her eyes again to keep the tears burning along the edge of her vision from spilling over.

Please, please, she begged whichever celestial might possibly be listening. Don’t take him from me again.

The memories of everything that had happened rushed in, a violent assault on Elyria’s senses. The warm creep of blood dripping from her back, her head. Malakar’s wretched whisper in her ear, his touch on her body. The sheer amount of death she had witnessed.

But then, also, a spark of heat. A voice that sounded like hope echoing in her mind. Brilliant, blazing, blinding light.

Elyria laid her hand over Cedric’s, lacing their fingers together and drawing his palm to her heart, where it beat a wild rhythm—louder and louder as her recollections surfaced. But he was so warm. He was so solid. And despite the memories still racing through her mind, Elyria felt so safe.