Page 130 of Cursed Evermore

And Gods help me, I couldn’t let her go, either.

Chapter 25

Elariya

“The Prelude”

My mind drifted through that hollow space between dreams and consciousness, where fragments of memory crashed over me like stormy waves.

The Ruskiel’s laugh. The burning in my lungs. Death in my body. Then Wolfe's lips claimed mine, breathing life and hope into my soul.

I stirred at that memory. At the ghost of his firm lips pressing against my mouth. But I couldn’t move. I was too weak to even try.

My limbs lay laden against the sheet. The feebleness in my body was something I’d never experienced, not even when scarlet fever had nearly taken me at twelve.

I remembered how fragile I’d felt then. So weak I had to be carried from room to room while fever burned through me like wildfire, making me reject every morsel of food, every drop of water, until death's shadow loomed closer with each passing hour. Only my grandmother's magic had tethered me to life.Some of the other children who got sick before me weren’t so lucky.

Grandmother had refused to let death take me, pouring her magic into my failing body before turning her desperate healing toward the others.

Grandmother.

My loving, brilliant, wise grandmother.

That despicable witch had stolen more than just my grandmother's face. She'd claimed her voice, her mannerisms, and even the way her hands had always soothed my fears.

Each word uttered from her vile mouth had been a perfectly crafted lie. From the mention of my mother and Emabelle joining the rescue to the tender way she'd called me 'child.' The deception had been flawless, curated from my deepest memories.

How could I have seen through it when she'd known exactly what my grandmother would have done? Charging headlong into danger to save me, no matter the cost—that was every bit her.

My blood simmered with rage when I thought of how easily I was led away.

And I’d followed. Like a child. Like helpless prey. I hated that I never once thought to question her. My own blind trust had been the yoke that bound me to her trap.

My breath came in ragged gasps as consciousness clawed its way in. When my eyes finally fluttered open, shadows writhed across the ceiling, and terror seized my throat once more. For one agonizing, heart-stopping moment, the shadows morphed into the witch's leeches, coming to finish their feast.

But no. Blessed Mother, it was only candlelight playing against the wooden beams, mocking my fear.

Beyond the window, night still covered the world, wrapping it in layers of shadows and secrets. Time had lost all meaning,but I assumed I was in the breath before sunrise, because last night we’d been close to passing through the Veil.

Or maybe we’d already crossed it and were in the magical realm. No. I didn’t think so.

The atmosphere around me felt like we hadn’t passed through yet. It still carried the weight of mortal air. I didn’t know how I knew that, but I did. I felt it.

I dragged in a deep breath, but it felt like swallowing shards of glass, and my throat was raw from the sea water. I forced myself to breathe slowly, like sipping air through a tube.

As my vision cleared, I suddenly became aware of a presence next to me.

Rolling my head gently to the left, my gaze locked with a dark figure hunched forward in a chair right beside me.

Moonlight silvered over silky black hair and the bare skin of broad shoulders covered in fresh bandages.

Wolfe.

He was here. Here… withme?

My mind slowed, a cacophony of thoughts scrambling to push through all at once.

No doubt the ruthless Fae prince was furious with me. After all, I’d tried to escape. And look what happened. Everyone had been dragged into a battle with the Ruskiel. I didn’t even know if Bastian managed to get Arielle back. What if someone died because of me?