Page 84
He nods, silver hair falling across his forehead. “The court showed me visions of what it once was, what all fae courts were meant to be. But the knowledge came at a price.” His fingers curl into fists. “I couldn’t escape, and the court was remaking me into what it needed.”
“A new Opal King.”
“Yes. But I wasn’t strong enough. I was dissolving.” He turns fully toward me, gratitude burning through every word. “You saved me, Amalia.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” I gesture at our surroundings. “We’re still trapped.”
“Together, though.” He reaches for my hand, and the touch sends warmth spiraling through the cold crystal in my veins. “Which means we still have hope.”
The court hums around us, as if considering his words. For a moment, its ancient attention fixes upon our joined hands, curious about the connection flowing between us, warmer and more alive than the crystal bond it forced upon me.
Elionn’s fingers trail from my hand to my wrist where the stone pulses, but he doesn’t touch it. “Could you feel me all this time?”
I don’t pull away despite the warning prickle along my skin. “I’m not sure what I felt, beyond annoyance.”
“So many prickles, but I remember you can be soft, too.” His fingertip brushes the stone’s surface.
Silver-white light erupts beneath his touch, burning through my vision. My spine arches, breath catching as a flood of emotions, not my own, crashes through me.
Joy, pure and bright at the sight of me alive.
Relief, spiraling into worry.
And beneath it all, a physical yearning that blazes hot enough to steal my breath.
His presence floods me. Not just his skin against mine, but the electrical storm of his thoughts, his desires, his fears, all pouring into me through the stone that binds us. His emotions tangle with mine until I can’t separate where he ends and I begin.
“What…” I draw in a shaky breath. “What did you do?”
Elionn freezes with his hand still touching the stone. “I can feel you, too. Your exhaustion. Your determination.” A beat passes. “Your confusion.”
The chamber pulses faster around us, reflecting my racing heart.
“I never wanted this for you,” he whispers, rough with an emotion that catches in my consciousness. “I wish you hadn’t come.”
His fingers tighten around the stone, and another pulse of feeling crosses between us. “Yet I’m so glad you’re here.”
The honesty burns between us, too raw. I grasp for a way to deflect, to pull us back from the brink of whatever precipice we stand upon.
“Your brother told me you’ve been watching me.”
His brow furrows. “What?”
“Caelan.” I twist my wrist, not breaking contact but testing whether I can. “He said you’ve been spying on me through mirrors in the human realm.”
To my surprise, Elionn doesn’t deny it. His thumb strokes over the stone, sending ripples of sensation up my arm. “Not spying. Observing.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Intent, perhaps.” A smile touches the corner of his lips. “I was curious about the life you lived. The mirrors showed me glimpses, moments of solitude when you believed yourself alone.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “That’s the definition of spying, princeling.”
“You fascinated me.” His admission comes without shame or the pretense of court manners. “A hunter who moved between worlds, answering to no one.”
Our connection leaves no doubt that his fascination is genuine, untainted by the manipulation so common among fae. “So you spent your time spying on me while I killed monsters and cleaned blood from my weapons. Thrilling entertainment.”
“I saw the way you dance when there’s no one else around.”
