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“Ready?” I asked my mate and guards. When they all nodded, I inclined my head to Drachu who’d already pulled out a portal key. “We’ll follow you.”
We reappearedon the top of a mountain on an island just north of the Lochen continent. Colorful leaves coated the island’s plants, not one speck of snow or frost anywhere.
A fierce wind whipped the air around us, and hundreds of feet below, the ocean crashed against a pale sandy beach. The breeze was warm and salty, and a clear pale-green sky stretched above us.
Drachu and Tylen regarded us from near the stairs.
“Back to the warmth, I see,” Nish said on a low growl.
Haxil widened his stance.
“Cheer up, Nishy,” Sandus called. “If this truly ends here, we’ll be on the Solis continent at the heart of winter for the foreseeable future.”
“This ends here, or Drachu’s life is mine.” My lip curled, and I stuffed my hand into my pocket, firmly grasping hold of the pendant.
Ilara stood stiffly at my side. She grew even more rigid when Drachu and his son walked toward us, but my mate’s gaze never left Drachu. I had a feeling that if she didn’t fear the repercussions, she would have burned the king out of existence right here and now with her fire elemental affinity.
“Priestess Genoova?” Drachu called toward the temple rising from the mountain’s peak.
Positioned above us, the Adrall Temple waited. White stone stairs rose from the mountaintop. They were made of the same pearly rock as the temple. Air swirled through the open, circular design. Its domedceiling and freestanding pillars allowed all of us a clear view of the temple’s interior.
Magic rumbled inside me. It was here that my mate had met a god and experienced the depth of Drachu’s ambition.
All of my guards kept their swords up. At the top of the stairs, the priestess appeared. Her eyes widened when she beheld us, yet her scent reeked of contempt. Ilara had told me of this female, how Priestess Genoova had played the part of a gentle fairy, yet my mate had seen enough to know that the snake had relished taking her magic.
“Come.” Drachu beckoned the priestess closer. “We have something to rectify with the crown prince, and I have need of your expertise again.”
“My king?” she said, her voice light and innocent sounding.
Drachu just growled and waved her down the stairs.
She descended the steps slowly, her pace wary. Like all Lochen fae, the priestess had startling green eyes. Dark hair, a shade lighter than my mate’s, hung in ringlets to her shoulders. The sunlight shone off her umber-brown skin, then caught on the pendant hanging from her neck. Like Drachu, she also wore a necklace with shells and gems, but unlike the fae king, there wasn’t a central stone throbbing with light.
“Where’s my pendant?” Drachu demanded of me when the priestess reached us.
I pulled it from my pocket and dangled it from my fingers. “Here.”
The sunlight flashed on the green stone, and Drachu’s features sharpened with feral need.
Ilara narrowed her eyes at the priestess and then Drachu. “Will returning my magic to me involve asking God Zorifel for help again?”
“No,” Drachu replied. “Genoova will be able to conduct the ceremony without summoning any gods or goddesses.”
Genoova brought a hand to her throat. “My king? Are you sure that you no longer want her tethered to you?”
“I’m sure,” he replied in a clipped tone. “In exchange for removing Ilara’s magic from my pendant, the prince has agreed to return it to me. We’re sealed by a bargain. I must comply.”
The priestess dipped her head. “Of course, my king, if that is what you wish.”
“I shall remind you,” I growled softly to him. “Should you fail to uphold your end of our bargain, your immediate surrender to me will follow.”
“I’m aware,” Drachu all but snarled in return.
Priestess Genoova eyed me cautiously. “If you would all follow me.”
“Not him.” I nodded toward Tylen. “He stays down here.”
Drachu smirked. “Are you afraid of my son?”
