Page 25 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

Miryanne answered almost immediately, her dark curls loose over her shoulders, her night robe cinched at the waist as she blinked sleepily at them.

The moment she registered who was at her door, however, she straightened, her cheeks flushing the faintest pink.

“Lord Vaelith,” she said breathlessly, smoothing her hands over her robes.

Thalia narrowed her eyes immediately.

Vaelith smiled at her, that easy, charming kind of smile that made other women melt. Not that Thalia cared. Not that it irritated her. Not at all.

“She walked straight into me,” Vaelith explained, tone lazily amused as he gestured to Thalia. “Too lost in one of her little daydreams to pay attention to her surroundings.”

Thalia’s nostrils flared. “I was thinking, ”

“Oh, is that what you call it?”

Miryanne giggled.

Thalia barely resisted the urge to jab him in the ribs.

The healer smiled sweetly and gestured for them to step inside. “Come in, let me have a look.”

Thalia thanked her quickly, eager to get this over with. As Miryanne tilted her chin up, fingers delicate as they checked the damage, Thalia could hear Vaelith chuckling softly behind her, still clearly enjoying himself.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Miryanne assured, pulling away after a moment. “Just a small vessel burst. Hold still”

A gentle warmth spread through Thalia’s nose as Miryanne’s light gently washed over her, and within seconds, the lingering ache faded. She sighed in relief, touching her fingers to her skin. No pain. No more bleeding. If only her wounded pride could be fixed as easily.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely.

Miryanne gave her a kind smile, but when she turned to Vaelith again, she blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my lord?”

Thalia’s eye twitched.

Vaelith, ever the picture of ease, gave her a roguish smile. “Not tonight, Miryanne. You need your rest.”

She beamed.

Thalia scowled.

The moment they stepped back out into the corridor, Thalia crossed her arms and shot him a glare. “So, tell me, Vaelith, do you see the temple and the women in it as your own personal all-you-can-sleep-with buffet?”

Vaelith stopped mid-step.

Then, to her complete and utter horror, he threw his head back and laughed.

A full, rich, thoroughly amused laugh, one that echoed off the walls and made her face burn.

When he finally recovered, his silver eyes gleamed with wicked delight as he leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice.

“Your tongue is sharp tonight, little healer,” he mused. “Careful who you use it on.”

Thalia’s face burned hotter, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was from anger

The last of Vaelith’s laughter still lingered in the air as he gave her a sideways glance, amusement twinkling in those sharp silver eyes.

“So,” he said, his tone casual but edged with something knowing, “How are you settling into your new role at the temple? Are they working you hard enough, or should I suggest they push you further?”

Thalia huffed, crossing her arms. “I’m excelling, actually. Not that it’s any of your concern.”

His smirk deepened. “Oh, I disagree. I’m quite invested in your progress.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, highly suspicious. “Why?”

Vaelith tilted his head, pretending to consider. “Maybe because I was the one who assessed your magic, or maybe because you seemed to rather enjoy my… attention.”

Heat flooded her face.

“That was the faerie wine’s fault!” she hissed.

His laugh was deep, thoroughly entertained, and far too pleased with himself. “Was it?” He leaned in just enough for his breath to graze her cheek. “Because I seem to remember you matching me kiss for kiss.”

Thalia practically combusted. “You! I! That doesn’t count!”

“Oh, it counts.” His smirk was wicked, unapologetic. “And if you ever feel like a repeat performance, all you have to do is ask.”

Thalia’s brain short-circuited.

Unfortunately, so did her feet.

One second, she was sputtering, trying to form a single coherent response, and the next, she was tripping over nothing, her arms flailing wildly as she went down.

Vaelith sighed, catching her effortlessly before she hit the ground.

“Clumsy tonight, aren’t we?” he murmured, his hands firm around her waist, keeping her stupidly close.

Thalia swallowed, willing herself to breathe as his body heat radiated through her robes. He smelled too good, his grip was too steady, and she was far too aware of every solid, muscular inch of him.

She shoved him away. “I tripped because you..because you!” She flailed uselessly for an explanation.

His smirk only deepened. “Because I what?”

Thalia refused to answer. Instead, she bent down to grab her fallen satchel, hastily shoving her spilled belongings back inside. Before she could reach for the last book, Vaelith beat her to it.

Vaelith’s sharp silver eyes flicked over the title of the book in his hands.

High Fae Diseases and Poisons.

His expression shifted slightly, just a flicker of something unreadable, but enough to make her stomach twist.

He flipped lazily through the pages, his long fingers trailing over the faded parchment. "What exactly are you researching?" His voice was smooth, but there was something beneath it, something too carefully measured.

Thalia swallowed, forcing herself to act normal. "It's for a patient," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "A man named Aric. He's been sick for over a year, and none of the healers, fae or human, have been able to diagnose him."

Vaelith raised a brow, finally glancing up at her.

Encouraged that he hadn’t immediately dismissed her, Thalia continued.

"He gets these episodes, extreme fatigue, dizziness, loss of strength. His body is failing him, but there’s no sign of infection, no common illness that explains it.

And there’s something else, " She hesitated before lowering her voice. "His skin takes on a green glow."

Vaelith stiffened.

She saw it, the brief tensing of his jaw, the way his grip on the book tightened.

"We've tried everything. Master Elric tasked us with looking through older medical records, cross-referencing past cases. I thought maybe there would be something in here. Something that explains, "

But Vaelith wasn’t listening anymore.

His gaze had fallen to the open page she had bookmarked. His entire body went eerily still, the shift so immediate, so unnatural, that the air around them felt wrong.

Too still.

Too quiet.

Thalia’s breath hitched as the flames from the nearby sconces stilled completely, their smoke curling in the air like frozen tendrils.

Then, so low, so deadly soft, a snarl.

A shiver ran down her spine.

The sound wasn’t just anger. It was something deeper, something dangerous.

She barely managed to keep her voice steady. "Vaelith?"

He said nothing.

Her eyes flicked to the book. His fingers had tightened over the illustration, the one of the High Fae royal family. The king and queen stood poised and regal, but it was the prince’s image that held his attention, the pale blue of his inked eyes still too familiar.

Thalia’s stomach dropped.

" Do you—?" She swallowed. "You recognize him, don’t you?"

Vaelith snapped the book shut, handing it back to her.

His silver eyes met hers, but they were different now distant, closed off, carefully blank.

"The answers you're looking for," he said smoothly, "aren’t in this book."

The way he said it, the absolute finality of it, sent a sharp ripple of unease through her.

"How do you know that?"

For a moment, it seemed like he might actually answer her.

Then, with a slow, deliberate step back, he simply said, "Good night, Thalia."

Then he was gone.

She stood frozen, gripping the book so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Her thoughts swirled.

He had reacted to that image. Snarled at it. Why ?

Her heart pounded as she stared at the empty corridor where he had disappeared.

The silence felt heavier now.

She looked down at the closed book in her hands, the weight of it suddenly unfamiliar.

She turned heading back to her room her mind spinning with more questions and next to no answers.