Page 46

Everly

I ran.

Faster than I had ever run in my life, faster than when my mother unclasped manacles from my wrists and told me that speed meant my life. My muscles screamed in protest, pulsating beneath my skin.

Images flashed across my mind, so vivid they nearly blinded me from the path.

Wynnie’s gentle hands rubbing ointment into my scars.

Her pinkie curled around mine.

Her head thrown back in laughter, eyes sparkling with mischief.

My heartbeat pounded in step with each muffled footfall of my leather boots against the solid floors. A trail of blood marred the pristine white marble, spilling out from each point where my nails had pierced into my skin. I clenched my fist harder.

You can call me Wynnie.

But I was still so shards-damned far away from my suites. From Draven’s suites.

You’re the only sister I need.

Why had she waited for me to come to her?

Because she didn’t want to face me? Or because she was stalling me on purpose?

You want to save people you can’t .

No . Not Wynnie. She was not someone who couldn't be saved. She was the brightest light in this world, and I would not see it snuffed out.

I had to find my husband.

I followed the pulse of his mana to our wing of the palace, ignoring the stares of the courtiers I flew by. Guards shouted questions after me, but Lumen’s growl kept them at bay.

Just as I crashed through the doors to our entryway, Draven emerged from his rooms like he had sensed my arrival. His lips were parted, his shirt laces undone, his hair still damp from a bath.

I stopped just short of running into him, and he darted his arms out to steady me. One warm hand circled each of my biceps, grounding me enough to breathe.

“What is it, Morta Mea?” Draven’s gaze raked over me, searching my face, my arms, my body, looking for any sign of what might be wrong.

Ragged breaths escaped me, tears pricking behind my eyes.

“We have to get to Thistlerun Keep,” I panted out. “You have to take me there now.”

His brow furrowed, his grip easing ever so slightly. “Why?”

“Monsters,” I gasped out the word, my mind reeling with memories, nightmares, and everything in between.

Not her. Not Wynnie.

“Did Eryx tell you?” he asked. “What?—”

I cut him off with a shake of my head, setting Batty down on Lumen’s head and ignoring her squeak of protest. “No, Batty,” I said flatly. “It’s too dangerous for you.”

I turned my full attention back to him, trying to keep my voice from breaking. “Nevara told me, just now, and we’re wasting time. My sister... Nevara said the keep has already fallen.”

My voice rose with every word, panic edging out every trace of reason in my tone.

His gaze sharpened with understanding. He stepped back from me, dropping his arms. “Then I will go, Morta Mea, but you will stay.”

No. Because if…if something had happened to her, if she was still clinging to life, I needed to see her. I needed to at least be there with her. She didn’t even like her husband.

I wouldn’t let her die alone, even if I couldn't save her.

And if…if she was already gone…I wouldn’t think about that. Couldn’t .

I closed the distance between Draven and me, fisting my hands in his shirt, clinging to him like the world might rip apart if I let go.

“I have never asked you for anything.” The words cracked out of me, like jagged bone splintering through the skin.

“Not when you had us bound against my will, or when you dragged me to the Heartstone ceremony, or when you took me to mages who wanted to wrench my mana from my body along with my blood, but I am begging you now.”

“Morta Mea.” He said it again, this time like a warning.

But I heard the barest edge of doubt. I switched from pleading to bargaining, my words tripping over each other in their urgency.

“I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll go back to the mages. I’ll let them experiment on me.” Tears fell down my cheeks, but I didn’t care.

I would beg for my sister if that was what it took, and I would damned well cry for her.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to unlock my mana, and you can use it however you need for the kingdom, just please, please , take me to my sister.”

Indecision warred on his features, a muscle working in his jaw.

“Please, Draven,” I whispered.

His expression flickered, just briefly. But it was enough for me to squeeze my eyes shut in relief.

He let out a breath that was more than just frustrated. It was pained. So was the mana that washed over my skin, searing straight through to my soul.

But I could not stay safe in my glittering palace with Wynnie’s life on the line.

He opened his eyes, boring his gaze into mine.

“If you go, you do not leave my side while there are monsters, no matter what asinine notions of heroism might cross your mind.” His voice was darker than I’d ever heard it. And somehow laced with even more authority. “Is that understood?”

“Yes. I swear it.”

He glanced at his ring—checking to see if it vibrated, I realized. When it didn’t, he swore under his breath, pulling me against him with a growl to not let go.