Page 111
The realness of her standing in front of him after five turnings apart struck him all at once with almost unbearable force.
Elowynn stepped toward him, folding her arms tightly around herself against the cold.
Caelyn didn’t hesitate to shrug out of his coat and moved to stand in front of her, offering it out.
Incredulity was written across her face. “What are you doing here?” she asked softly.
“That is… uh…. well,” he cleared his throat. “It’s a complicated answer.”
She still had not taken the coat. Caelyn shook it out and was about to whisk it around her shoulders, but he was frozen in place with his eyes locked to her upper arm.
Everything inside him stopped and the world narrowed.
“El—,” he growled low, his face darkening into rage.
She must have realized what he saw because her posture changed too late.
Caelyn stepped closer without meaning to and lifted a hand to her arm. He hovered the back of his knuckles over the area, not quite touching.
She didn’t flinch from him.
“What happened to your arm?” he demanded in a low, even tone.
“It is nothing,” she said too fast, her words breathless. “I promise, it is nothing.” She lifted her hand to quickly hide it with her palm.
His expression hardened. “Elowynn.”
She averted her gaze.
Unnatural cold permeated the air. Caelyn felt it spread outward before he fully comprehended what was happening.
Ice crackled against the stone beneath his polished boots.
“Elowynn.” His voice sounded dangerous now.
Elowynn’s chin wobbled, her lip quivering. Tears slipped from her eyes. Slowly, reluctantly, she lowered her hand from where she had been hiding the injury.
Dark fingerprints wrapped visibly around the pale skin of her upper arm. For one awful moment, Caelyn forgot how to breathe. He felt his soul deep beneath his ribs split open, his heart screaming, his anger evident. His eyes were murderous as he looked at those bruised marks upon perfectly flawless skin.
The currents answered his emotion and frost streaked out across the stone railing beside him.
Elowynn’s eyes widened, “Caelyn!” she whispered. “Stop. You need to stop!”
He couldn't stop staring at the bruises. Someone had hurt her.
Someone had put their gods damned hands on her.
Something black and ancient and terrible awoke beneath his skin.
“Who did this to you?” came the quiet demand. He didn't sound like himself.
Elowynn stepped toward him cautiously. “Caelyn. Look at me,” she pleaded. “You need to look at me.”
He tried. Gods, he tried.
But all he could see were fingerprints on her skin. Skin that should be worshipped and revered, not disrespected.
A part of him knew who had done it. A part of him was struggling to remain where he stood and not go find Korvel and break every single one of his fingers before cutting them off and forcing them down his throat to choke on.
