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“Thank the Maker,” Thane said, kissing the inside of his fingers and raising them up as a sign of praise. “There’s one good thing about this day.”

She turned back to glare at him, and even hissed like a cat. That was new.

“Stop it. Both of you,” Layala said, shaking her head and trying not to laugh. Even in the worst of times that gnome could brighten her day. Layala smiled and pulled the note out of the envelope and it read:

Meet me at the stone circle for mage training just before sunset. I’ll be waiting.

~Vesstan

“Since when does he want to train me?”

“Since I asked him to. It’s time you learn to control your magic, rather than hide it,” Thane said. “This will be good for you, Laya. I think you’re capable of much more than we’ve seen.”

“You think or you know?”

He smiled. “I know. Meet me in the Hall of Kings when you’re ready. The new Lord of Calladira is hoping for an alliance. Bringing the elves together might finally happen.”

Layala set the note on the dresser and walked over to the window. She had a feeling the new Lord of Calladira wouldn’t be the only person making an appearance soon.

Chapter4

THANE

Thane closed the door gently behind him and then leaned against it, slamming his eyes shut and heaving a breath. It was torture resisting her when he wanted nothing more than to give into those blue eyes begging him to touch her—to love her. Seeing her half-dressed, all that exposed skin and Maker above, he wanted to grab her and show her how much he loved her still. The thought of it set his pulse racing. But he wasn’t the same elf he’d been months ago, and neither was she.

His vivid dreams kept him tossing and turning half the night since that day in the tower. Maybe it was Hel’s awakening that triggered the memories, maybe something else. Awake, asleep,Helkept flashing in his mind, of times of them together as children fighting against each other in a small dirt floor arena; someone he couldn’t quite see clearly forced them to spar. Many nights of running through woods laughing, catching critters, or sitting on a mountain top counting the stars, a different sky than the one he looked at nowadays, surmising if they’d ever fall in love. Hel said he wouldn’t. He hoped he would.

There was something broken about that young Hel, something that made him a little more ruthless, jaded. It prompted War to want to protect him, to make sure no one hurt him.

But it made Thane wary. He remembered how ruthless he could be to someone who stood against him, and they weren’t on the same side anymore.

Then there was Valeen’s infectious presence, her sheer power—a primordial goddess. She was like Layala in appearance but so sure of herself, so strong.

Unbreakable.

Flashes of him fighting beside her in a place with dragons where he was someone the shifters looked up to. It wasn’t the same architecture or landscape he’d been to up north in Adalon, so he couldn’t say it was just him dreaming of Prince Ronan’s dragon kingdom. It was another realm with a landscape vastly different, a sky with two moons, rolling fields of amber and sparse trees. And although he knew he had feelings for her in these dreams, she wasn’t his lover there.

Other times she was with Hel, he saw her in excruciating detail dancing with him, his hands all over her near a bonfire and half-shifted dragons partying around them. It made him insanely jealous, and he woke up from that dream covered in sweat.

But the absolute worst memory was the one that kept him awake at night. The one that made him pull away. The one that made him question everything. A week after they’d arrived home to Castle Dredwhich from the Void his mind slipped into a vision while he was still awake…

It was midnight and neither he nor Layala were able to sleep. She’d paced the room, her feet quietly clapping on the stone floor. Her anxiousness put him on edge too. “Let’s go for a walk, Laya, it will help you relax.” She’d been like a penned-up wildcat since they returned home. Anxious to escape but to where?

They made their way outside, along the prim path around the side of the castle. “It’s a warm night,” Layala said conversationally. They’d done their arguing and fighting over what happened with Talon; she’d cried about it and asked for forgiveness for what she did to hurt him, and he gave it. They were passed it but their problems with the Black Mage—Hel had only begun.

Thane didn’t respond to her comment on the weather. He was thinking about what Hel had said. “She’s my wife. My mate. Queen of Villhara.” He couldn’t remember exactly what Villhara was yet.

Layala pointed to a bushel of jasmine, “Do you like the smell of jasmine? Aunt Evalyn always said it’s too strong, but I love it. It’s my favorite.” It was Valeen’s favorite too…

His gaze fell to the white blossoms. Their scent infiltrated his senses and the wedding flashed across his mind as vividly as if he’d stood in that garden of jasmine at midnight surrounded only by a few friends. Soft music played, strings and chimes from an invisible source.

She was radiant in a deep purple dress with stars and moons on the bodice, and a smile that wouldn’t fade. They held hands, cut their skin, bound their union by blood. He’d promised her eternity, and she him. It wasn’t coercion or forced or even arranged. There was no denying they loved each other. Hel never took his eyes off her. She kissed him hard on the mouth, pulled him in like she couldn’t get close enough.

It gutted him to know their happiness, to have witnessed it. And to be so in love withher himself at that very moment… and to feel guilty for it. He even felt the guilt now in this life. He couldn’t make sense of it. Why should he feel guilty? Why should he care about something so long ago? Another life that felt like him but not.

“Thane, what’s wrong?” Layala had asked.

“Nothing. But I think I’m with Evalyn on this one… jasmine is too strong.”