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“The nightwalkers were in the human realm before,” I said. “And in Annwyn.”
Lyrena started talking quickly. Cyara’s voice was steady. Percival had apparently decided his opinion was needed. Osheen made loud inquiries about tea.
Our eyes met.
The chaos was just the beginning.
The nightwalkers had come to our kingdom before. They were an old pestilence, a dangerous one if the carvings were accurate. Entire legions of them, facing off against the fae in battle.
But if they’d come before, they’d also been defeated.
If I could control my power…
If we made it to Avalon and found out what the prophecy really meant…
If we made it back to Baylaur before the darkness fell…
Maybe we would stand a chance.
With Arran at my side, I stood a chance.
57
ARRAN
I love you.
I love you.
A cruel, cunning laugh sliced through me.
“How could she ever love you? How could anyone? A male of beastliness—a male of death?”
I didn’t recognize the voice, but still it felt eerily familiar. Like it had haunted my nightmares before. But this wasn’t a nightmare. This was real. This was Veyka, standing at the edge of the forest, staring at me.
Walking away from me.
“Where—where are you going?” I didn’t care that I was stumbling over my words. Stumbling over tree roots—roots that should have bent in my very presence.
All I cared about was getting to her. My mate.
She kept walking.
Didn’t turn back, even as I called her name. Or was that the beat of my own heart?
Veyka. Veyka. Veyka.
“She never wanted you. It was the bond that held her to you all along.”
So many times, the fear had flashed in my mind. In these nightmares. I loved Veyka more than life itself. More than Annwyn or my family or the terrestrial kingdom. I had loved her before the mating bond.
But she’d never said the words. Never given me any indication that she loved me as well. That she was even capable of love.
And she was walking away.
“Veyka!” I screamed—but no sound came out.
I ran faster, forced myself to get to her. I was so close.
