When I wake, the first rays of the sun are just barely visible, bathing the room in a soft, orange glow. I stretch. The muscles ache between my thighs, but in a good way, reminding that I’ve been thoroughly claimed by my High Elf husband.
Caelen is on the balcony, and I observe as he holds the mirror shard in his palm. His brows furrow deeply in contemplation as he murmurs the words of enchantment, staring into the future as he tries to find a way around what the magic has foretold.
He clenches his jaw, and tries again. The witch’s warning rings in my head. Those who stare too long can go mad.
I pull my robe over my shoulders and walk up behind him, resting my hand lightly on his arm to draw his attention to me. His expression is pained as his gaze meets mine. He swallows hard. “I can see no course that does not result in—”
I press a finger to his lips to silence him.
He takes my hand and brushes a tender kiss across my knuckles as he continues despite my protest. “I keep seeing the dragon, a sylven apple, and you in a glass—” his voice breaks on the last word and he turns away from me. He swallows hard and stares out at the sea a moment before he swings back and crushes me to his chest.
He runs a hand through my hair. Gripping the long strands between his fingers, he tips my head back to face him. Caelen cups my cheek and drops his forehead gently to mine, his eyes bright with tears.
My heart clenches. “How long have you been doing this? Staring into the mirror?”
“Hours,” he admits.
“Give it to me,” I tell him.
He shakes his head. “I must keep trying. The answer is there. It has to be. It—”
“Give me the mirror,” I state firmly. “Now.”
Reluctantly, he hands it over. Before he can stop me, I fling the shard out into the sea.
“How could you do that? That was our only chance to figure this out.”
I cup his cheek. “The witch said that those who stare too long into the mirror can go mad. I’ll not have that happen to you, my love.”
“But I could have found a way to save you, Lyana. Even if I take you to Rivenyl and we never return to Eryadon, you still—”
“We’ll find a way, Caelen.”
Anger flashes behind his eyes, but he says nothing. Clenching his jaw, he retrains his face into a perfect, stoic mask; one I haven’t seen since the day we first met… when we were nothing more than strangers.
He turns and heads back into the room. He changes quickly and then begins placing our belongings into our packs. It is easy to see he is upset, but I don’t want things to be this way between us. “Caelen, I—”
“We’re going somewhere far from here,” he says. “I am taking you to Anara. The Fae Prince Ryvan has taken a human mate. We are allies with them. They will not turn us away if we wish to remain in their kingdom, behind the Veiled wall that keeps all others out.”
“I’m not going to Anara, Caelen. I am going to ask the dragon to help me, and I’m going to take back Eryadon, with or without your help.”
“Why?” he asks, frustration easily read in his features. “Why not go somewhere else? Live out our lives in peace?”
“Because my people have been left under the rule of those who murdered their rightful king,” I state firmly. “It does not matter where we go or what we do, Rina will search for me, Caelen. I’m the rightful heir to the throne. Their position is not secure so long as I am alive.” I take both his hands in mine. “Don’t you understand? I cannot run from this. No matter how much I wish that I could.”
“What about us?” he asks, mouth pinched with tension. “Do you not care what it would do to me if I lost you?”
“Of course I care, Caelen.”
“Then, I am begging you to listen to me,” he pleads. “Please, Lyana.”
“I have to do this, Caelen. I cannot just abandon my people.”
His nostrils flare, and he turns back to his pack, filling it with our supplies.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice tight.
“I am going to Rivenyl.”
My heart stops and my stomach twists in a violent knot. Tears gather in the corner of my eyes, but I blink them back. “If… that is what you want.”
“It is,” he says, not bothering to look up at me. “Come with me.”
“Please, Caelen, do not ask me to abandon my people.”
“Fine. I will not.”
With that, he stands and starts for the door. He grips the handle and then pauses. “Goodbye, Lyana.”
He turns the knob and steps out into the hallway. Traitorous tears escape my lashes and roll down my cheek. I open my mouth to say something, but the words will not come. I’m frozen in place as devastation fills me.
He drops his bag and turns toward me. He crosses the room in less than five steps and gathers me in his arms. “Why did the gods curse me with such a stubborn mate?” he groans as he holds me close. “Are you really so determined to do this?”
“Were you really going to leave?” I ask, my heart in my throat.
Sighing heavily, he shakes his head. He brushes the tears from my cheek and I notice the ones of his own that he struggles to hold back. “No. I was bluffing. Praying you would follow… beg me not to leave and then agree to run away to Anara with me.”
Relief fills me along with a healthy dose of anger. I glare up at him despite my tears. “That was a terrible plan. What kind of husband plays with his wife’s emotions that way?”
He places a finger under my chin, tipping my face up to his. “The kind who would rather she be safe and angry at him, than watch her rush headlong into danger. I would not care if you hated me forever, as long as it meant you were safe.” He pulls me to his chest, running his fingers through my long, dark hair.
And gods help me, I melt into his embrace.
I tip my head back to look up at him. “The words you spoke to me last night, in your Elvish tongue, what do they mean?”
He presses a tender kiss to my forehead. “I love you more than anything, Lyana.” He murmurs, pressing another to my cheek. “My heart is no longer my own.” His lips brush mine, and he whispers against them. “It is yours, my beautiful, human wife.”
I cup his cheek. “What are the words for I love you in your language?
“Ashal’veh,” he breathes. Closing his eyes, he leans into my touch. He turns and presses another kiss to my palm. “Ashal’veh, my Lyana.”
I brush my lips to his and whisper against them. “Ashal’veh, my Caelen.”
