Page 23

Rowan watched as the body emitted a small amount of light before slowly combusting into thousands of light shards that dispersed into the air before them.

“I was the reason she felt she had to go so far.” He spoke minutes after the last light went out. “This is the second time you’ve helped the Thunder out.”

Rowan let out a hum before saying, “Are you going to spirit me away again?”

XOXOXO

Alessandro turned to the woman. Never having had trouble seeing in the dark, he could see that her eyes were blank. Her bloody clothes were so soaked they clung to every part of her body. She was exhausted, and she was still cracking jokes.

“No.” He held a hand out and a dark glass bottle appeared in it. He uncorked the top and took the first drink. Ambrosia laced wine, as sweet as pomegranates and honey crisp apples, meltedon his tongue as he handed her the bottle. “Any time I make a kill, this helps me dull the sting.”

Rowan turned to look at him, bright blue eyes wide. “You’re going to drink with me?”

Alessandro smirked. “Yes. I am.”

She took the bottle, and he watched with surprise as she chugged. He thought to warn her of the potency, but there was an ease in her body that assured him she had enjoyed the spirit more than once in her life. Perks of being an elven princess, he supposed.

She let out a sound of refreshed satisfaction, gave the bottle back, and turned to the lake behind them. Without warning, she shot up into the sky and dove deep into the dark water, still clothed.

Alessandro’s eyes turned to the musical instrument that had cost him Elaine. How had she gotten her hands on such a thing? His curiosity was momentary because the elf had breached the surface and was floating face up, her moment of elation suppressed by a wave of grief.

It had been one thing to see the marks of a Blessed in her aura when he’d taken her into his cavern, another to see her perform a cleansing. How many times had she done it? It didn’t seem to be her first.

He waved a hand over the flute, executed a precautionary sweep for tracing spells before he sent it to his hoard to be examined later.

“So, who was she?” She had moved to the edge of the lake where she could sit submerged to her shoulders. The water was so clear he could see she was sitting cross-legged and her arms wereplaying with the hem of her pajama shorts. He could also see through the white fabric of her shirt to two dark spots where her areolas sat puckered. It seemed she was unaware, so he averted his eyes.

Alessandro took a drink before he answered. It was difficult for him to talk about his dragons to those outside of the Thunder, but he supposed the woman had earned his trust twice over. “Her name was Elaine Hitori. She belonged to one of the Thunder’s most prominent families.”

“There was a more intimate history between you.” He could see the waves forming on the hair plastered to her scalp as it slowly dried. She crawled out far enough to where she could reach the bottle and she took another chug.

Her tolerance amused him. For someone so small, she should’ve already been tipsy with the amount she was inhaling. “I saw it in her eyes when she looked at you. She was in love with you.”

Yes. She had been, but he had a feeling that Elaine had loved the power that came with being his partner a bit more than she loved him.

“Like most kings, my people have wanted me to find a partner to make my Dragon Queen. Elaine was hopeful for the position, but before I offered it, she took it for granted. A side of her came out with the imagined power that let me know she would be a failure. As part of a powerful family of the Thunder, she had allegiances and she let them blind her. She could not make fair and rational decisions. Perhaps that would have been a bit more forgivable if she’d had the right. But she didn’t, so I cut off the courting and she ran away.” He shook his head, “Headlong into a cursed object that might have killed my dragons had it not been for—well, you.”

Rowan blew bubbles in the water as she pondered her next statement, but he saw an opening.

“This isn’t the first time, is it? That someone with an irreversible curse has come to you?”

XOXOXO

Rowan’s first instinct was to lie. Hadn’t her godfather warned her to hide her true nature?

But he had seen with his own eyes what she’d done. She had no delusions that he hadn’t already put two and two together.

Besides, talking to a spellcaster as capable and as old as Alessandro himself—three centuries’ worth of life last time she checked—might give her information she could use to one day complete the first full cleansing.

As far as she knew, while many Blessed had cleansed the possessors of cursed objects, each possessor had ceased to live almost immediately after. Worse yet, the object had remained cursed, waiting for its next victim to fall into its arms.

“No. The Cursed often find themselves at my doorstep. The first time it happened, I was only nine. I had been playing in my mother’s gardens with my sisters when he showed up. He was just a kid too, but he had been so malformed that he scared us all. To protect them, I needed a weapon and a sword of light appeared for me as soon as I reached that conclusion. I just wanted to scare him off, not kill him, but he thrust himself right into the tip while trying to claw my face off. He returned to his normal appearance, and he died right in front of us all.” She shook her head. “Ever since then, I’ve tried to tear the curses off, to keep them alive, but nothing works. I’ve studied scroll after scroll, grimoire after grimoire, but I always fail.” The wordwas more breathed out than said. Rowan Dahl was not used to failure.

XOXOXOXO

Blessed. It was a term for those who could end the misery of the Cursed with a weapon made of a rare bit of magic afforded to very few individuals. Over the years, some could even hear the words of full-fledged gods. Powerful entities whose powers were so grand that they couldn’t fit in the dimension their worshippers filled.

The Blessed had become coveted, their identities protected with utmost diligence. Connected to celestial power, he could see the marks of the Blessed, even as he refused his godhood candidacy.