Page 163

“You never know with Magnelis.”

Garrik hadn’tawoken in the hours after his traumatizing return. No one knew why.

Limp and pale, Garrik laid atop the plush pillows and furs on his cot. His breathing shallow—too shallow—and uneven. Small injuries like cuts on his hands and little bruises on his neck could be easily healed, but they didn’t dare search elsewhere. And Alora recalled her own injuries, how he’d left her clothing untouched until she regained consciousness.

Thalon vaguely explained that Garrik would never allow it. Never let them know what happened while he visited Galdheir.

They always knew, though. He tried to hide it, but friends always know.

“What if…” Eldacar choked on his words, sitting at the table between Thalon and Jade. “What if Magnelis stole his mind … his power?”

A sharp breath wrenched out of Thalon. “He’s tried before, never succeeded. The deal that he and Kerimkhar struck doesn’t allow him to steal the powers of his blood or name. It’s impossible to take power from him.”

“He could use them, though.” Jade rubbed her temples in agony. “The fucker has done that before.”

Alora stared at Garrik’s chest that barely moved. Thalon, Jade, and Eldacar’s conversation faded as she focused on his face.

Please, wake up.

Nothing.

Through a heavy sigh, she pulled a chair closer to the side of his cot while the others ruffled through books from Eldacar’s library.

A worrisome yet playful grin climbed her face.I’ll let you pin me against a tree again, but only if you wake up, right now.She stared at his expressionless face, hoping that her attempt to arouse him would work.

But again. Nothing.

Come on. I’ll let you do—She couldn’t believe what she was about to think. But if it worked…I’ll let you do anything. Just … wake up.

Alora leaned forward, dropping her face into her hands. Something burned on her palms, and she realized that she had started crying.

Anything?

Her head snapped up and eyes narrowed as that familiar, deep voice caressed her mind. She straightened in her chair, doubting the voice was real. Had her mind conjured it?

Alora looked at his face and expected to see that nothing had changed.

Instead, those usual beautiful, enchanting silver eyes were weak, dull, muddy-gray orbs, peeking through slitted, trembling eyelids. Garrik’s chest moved at a slightly quicker pace, but not much more than before, and the High Prince’s hand softly twitched on the blanket as he struggled to fully open his eyes.

Thank Maker of the Skies.He was awake.

Alora leaned forward and clasped the top of his hand before she started to turn. Ready to tell his friends that he was awake. But his voice stopped her.

I need a moment.Breathless and exhausted, Garrik’s voice strained in her mind.Please. Just a moment before you call to them.

She understood. A few more minutes to pass by in peace before his friends would berate him with questions and heartfelt relief.

Embers lit in her palm, cupping her hand to a metal washbasin on the bedside table until steam rose. Water silently dripped as she pulled a warm washcloth from it and placed it on his chilled forehead.

His eyes widened, opened, and met hers, head trembling at the touch. Something unsettling crossed his face but fell relaxed as his breathless voice brushed her mind.Thank you.

Garrik’s eyes fluttered closed.

What? No clever girl or darling?

Hmm.A calm groan of comfort as a faint grin climbed up the side of his face before collapsing just as fast. He sunk his head back into the pillows before she noticed he fell perfectly still.

A few minutes passed. Alora began to wonder if he would wake again soon. The softness of the back of her hand touched his forehead. His temperature was back to the normal icy chill his shadows kept him in.